I have been led into this train of contemplation, from having recently witnessed a practical illustration of the wonderful effects producible by what may fairly be termed a benevolent system, for there is no degree whatever of harsh discipline connected with it--no starvation, no blows, nothing of that "reign of terror," under the influence of which Van Amburgh has doubtless effected his dominion over the most ferocious of beasts; the exhibition of which power, while it surprises, does not please us; for, though, by an effort of the imagination, the mind may be led for a moment to the anticipation of the scene in which "the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid," it quickly considers this surprising display of human power with painful sensations, from the conviction that extreme severity of discipline alone has enabled man in this instance to attain his despotic sovereignty, and that the unnatural results which he beholds are an evidence that the legitimate dominion granted to man "over every thing that moveth upon the earth," has in this case, as in ten thousand others, been overstrained and abused. While animals of prey are in a state of nature, they either avoid each other, or meet in deadly contest, according to the degree of their antipathies; and until He who has impressed their dispositions upon them shall bid them lie down together in peace, no efforts of puny man can avail in changing their habits, except under such rare circumstances as confirm the general law of instinct which leads them to destroy each other. But the dislike which many of the domesticated animals entertain for each other, is greatly increased by the encouragement which they receive from man. The dog, which under other treatment would be familiar with the cat or the hog, is taught from his _puppyhood_ to pursue and worry each of them; the cat instinctively defends herself with those claws which are her natural weapons, and she scratches her opponent's face, and through their after life they are never thoroughly reconciled to each other, but live proverbially as "cat and dog." The hog cannot defend himself from the teeth of the dog; his ears are torn by them; he cannot retaliate, but he lives ever afterwards in dread of the whole canine race. Dogs, which otherwise would live in harmony together, are taught to fight; their natural jealousy is encouraged, and they are rendered bullies by profession. That the dread of man is in a certain degree naturally upon every beast of the field and bird of the air, cannot be disputed; but this feeling is increased considerably by the _experience_ which many brutes have of man's caprice or tyranny, and this dread is transmissible (as may be justly inferred from cases which are perfectly analogous, such as the acquired habit of pointing at game) to their posterity.