N—— was just going to reply, when a large bull, rendered outrageous by the stones which the populace were throwing at him, ran suddenly towards the gate at the instant the keepers were opening it on some other account; which threw them into such confusion, that they had not time to shut it before the bull burst out on the multitude. He now became an object of terror to those who the moment before had looked on him as an object of mirth. The mighty lords of the creation, who consider other animals as formed entirely for _their pastime_, _their attire_, _their food_, fled in crowds from one quadruped, and would gladly have fallen on their knees and worshipped him, like so many Egyptians adoring Apis, if by so doing they could have hoped to deprecate the just wrath of the incensed animal.—They found safety at length, not in their own courage or address, but in the superior boldness and agility of other animals, who were leagued with man against him. He was surrounded by dogs, who attacked him on all sides—he killed some outright, tossed and wounded many more; but perceiving his own strength diminishing, and the number of his enemies increasing every moment, he threw himself into the sea, and there found a temporary protection from the fury of his persecutors.—But the dogs were instigated to follow; they at length drove him from this last asylum; and the poor, torn, bleeding, exhausted animal was forced ashore, three or four of the most furious of the dogs hanging at different parts of his head and neck. When they were removed, he raised his honest countenance, and threw an indignant look upon the rabble, as if to upbraid them for such a return for his own labours, and all the essential services which his whole species render to mankind. Upon my soul I felt the reproach. We could not bear his looks, but sneaked away without feeling much pride on account of our near connection with those lords of the creation, whom we had just beheld exerting their prerogative. We walked along a considerable time without speaking. N—— broke silence at last: “Well,” said he, “those amiable creatures whom we have quitted, are what they call human beings;—they are more, they are Neapolitans, men who are moved with the concord of sweet sounds; from which I conclude (Shakespear may say what he pleases), that such men are as fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils, as those who never heard softer melody than that of marrow-bones and cleavers.” “This fondness for barbarous amusements,” said I, “cannot be stated exclusively to the account of Neapolitans, of English, or of any other particular people. I am afraid the charge lies against mankind in general; from whatever motive it arises, a large proportion of the individuals in all countries have displayed a decided taste for diversions which may be ranged in this class.”