THE HEDGEHOG. 
97 
repeatedly rolling itself round in its nest. Thus com- 
fortably invested, it suffers little from the season. Some 
strong smell must proceed from this animal, as we find 
it frequently, with our sporting dogs, even in this state ; 
\ and every village boy with his cur detects the haunts 
of the poor hedgehog, and as assuredly worries and 
kills him. Killing every thing, and cruelty, are the 
common vices of the ignorant; and unresisting inno- 
cence becomes a ready victim to prejudice or power. 
The snake, the blindworm, and the toad, are all indis- 
criminately destroyed as venomous animals whenever 
found ; and it is well for the last-mentioned poor ani- 
mal, which, Boyle says, “ lives on poison, and is all 
venom,” if prolonged sufferings do not finish its being : 
I but even we, who should know better, yet give rewards 
for the wretched urchin’s head ! that very ancient pre- 
judice of its drawing milk from the udders of resting 
cows being still entertained, without any consideration 
of its impracticability from the smallness of the hedge- 
I hog’s mouth ; and so deeply is this character associated 
1 with its name, that we believe no argument would per- 
suade to the contrary, or remonstrance avail with our 
idle boys, to spare the life of this most harmless and 
| least obtrusive creature in existence. 
, If we were to detail the worst propensities of man, 
disgusting as they might be, yet the one most eminently 
offensive would be, cruelty — a compound of tyranny, 
ingratitude, and pride ; tyranny, because there is the 
power— ingratitude, for the most harmless and service- 
able are usually the object — pride, to manifest a con- 
tempt of the weakness of humanity. There is no ore 
creature, whose services Providence has assigned to 
man, that contributes more to his wants, is more con- 
ducive to his comforts, than the horse ; nor is there one 
which is subjected to more afflictions than this his 
faithful servant. The ass, probably, and happily, is not 
a very sensitive animal, but the poor horse no sooner 
becomes the property of man in the lower walks of life, 
than he commonly has his ears shorn off ; his knees are 
broken, his wind is broken* his body is starved, and his 
eyes— — ! ! I fear, in these grades of society, mercy 
I 
