THE WISDOM OF ANIMALS.

A FABLE AFTER THE MANNER OF ESOP.

THERE was once upon a time a great union proposed of all the beasts against their enemies. The Lion and the Tiger, the Elephant and the Rhinoceros, the Camel, the Dromedary and the Hippopotamus, the Horse and the Ox, the Cat, the Fox, the Wolf, the Sheep, the Dog, all came in convention to discuss the matter. They agreed to lay aside their antagonistic propensities against one another, to respect each other's rights, to live in peace among themselves, and to unite in a common defence of the animal republic. Things were in this happy state, when a Hyena got up in the assembly, and stated that the race of Hyenas was made before any other beasts had an existence, and that the lordship over all the beasts was so committed to that race, that no beast could be considered as belonging to the animal republic, except under that lordship. This was a very bold and arrogant speech, but the Hyena stated that all antiquity was in his favor.

It were vain to attempt to describe the angry discussion to which these pretensions on the part of the Hyena gave rise. It is sufficient to say that they were put down and utterly rejected in the assembly, many of the beasts having shown with great clearness the dreadful wars and persecutions to which these pretensions had given rise in past times, others having demonstrated the iniquity of such pretensions on the part of any beast whatever, and others

having proved that the Hyena had been, with these pretensions, as far as he could be, an all-devouring tyrant, and that it was necessary to guard against him for the future. They compelled the Hyena to the alternative of either withdrawing from the union, or withdrawing his own pretensions to the government, and so, rather than be regarded as a universal enemy, he chose to swallow his griefs in silence.

It happened on a time after this that a history of the beasts was published, which contained, among other things, a clause as to their original and universal equality. A convention of the beasts was held, in which, among other business, they determined to give this book their approbation, and to have it circulated as extensively as possible. In this convention the Hyena got up and stated that he had great objections to the book as it was, for it went against what his particular race considered as their right, and would be regarded by all the Hyenas as a sectarian book, and contrary to the rules of their union. Strange as it may seem, for the sake of peace, some of the beasts were for altering the book according to the suggestions of the Hyena, not seeing the whole tendency of the movement. And though the author of the book was a wise old Lion, who had his den among the mountains, where they might have sent to consult him on such an important point, they were for cutting out some of his dearest opinions, without consulting him at all.

In this predicament a sagacious Elephant arose and said to the assembly, "It seems to me very surprising that the proposition of our brother Hyena should be entertained for a moment. It seems strange to me that any members of this convention do not see at once that even to receive it is to receive an insult to us all, and to adopt it would be just cutting off our own heads. For when our union was first entered into, it was on the ground of uni

versal equality, and our brother Hyena was admitted into

it only with the understanding that his inordinate and absurd pretensions, which you all remember, were to be withdrawn out of it. Now do you not see, that in proposing to have this clause as to our equality stricken out of this book of history, he does it not out of the desire of peace and union, but out of an ambition to rule? Do you not see that in claiming to have this stricken out, he demands from us a palpable and plain confession that we are inferior to him? I should be ashamed of any beast who would be ready to make such a confession, and to make it for the pretended sake of union would be just to introduce war and prevent all possibility of union. Let the Hyena and all his race dwell apart, if they choose, and crack bones in the desert, but let them not dare to come here and tell us that in publishing the declaration of our equality in dignity and rights, we are publishing sectarian matter, and matter offensive to him and his fellow Hyenas. They would be glad indeed, if they could, to have all our standards abolished, and so be able to steal in with their pretensions, till by and by they will assert them as an established law. For my part, I would rather lose my trunk, than vote to pass the resolution of the Hyena, or even admit it under consideration. On the contrary, I move that he be called to order, and censured for introducing it."

The speech of the Elephant, during which his large ears waved like the gray locks of an old Nestor, carried the whole assembly. They cast out the proposition of the Hyena, and resolved to print the book as it was, and so the ambitious beast concluded once more to swallow his griefs and his pretensions, and to wait for another opportunity.

Here is wisdom. The number of the Beast is

SIX HUNDRED SIXTY-SIX,

and his name is-PRELACY.

DEACON GILES' DISTILLERY.

"INQUIRE AT AMOS GILES' DISTILLERY."

SOME time ago the writer's notice was arrested by an advertisement in one of the newspapers, which closed with words similar to the following: "INQUIRE AT AMOS GILES' DISTILLERY." The reader may suppose, if he choose, that the following story was a dream, suggested by that phrase. Deacon Giles was a man who loved money, and was never troubled with tenderness of conscience. His father and his grandfather before him had been distillers, and the same occupation had come to him as an heirloom in the family. The still-house was black with age, as well as with the smoke of furnaces that never went out, and the fumes of tortured ingredients, ceaselessly converted into alcohol. It looked like one of Vulcan's Stithies, translated from the infernal regions into this world. Its stench filled the atmosphere, and it seemed as if drops of poisonous alcoholic perspiration might be made to ooze out from any one of its timbers or clapboards on a slight pressure. Its owner was a treasurer to a Bible Society; and he had a little counting-room in one corner of the distillery where he sold Bibles.

HE that is greedy of gain troubleth his own house. Any one of those Bibles would have told him this, but he chose to learn it from experience. It was said that the Worm of the Still lay coiled in the bosom of his family, and certain it is that one of its members had drowned him

self in the vat of hot liquor, in the bottom of which a skeleton was some time after found, with heavy weights tied to the ancle bones. Moreover, Deacon Giles' temper was none of the sweetest, naturally; and the liquor he drank, and い the fires and spirituous fumes among which he lived, did nothing to soften it. If his workmen sometimes fell into his vats, he himself oftener fell out with his workmen. This was not to be wondered at, considering the nature of their wages, which, according to no unfrequent stipulation. would be as much raw rum as they could drink.

Deacon Giles worked on the Sabbath. He would neither suffer the fires of the distillery to go out, nor to burn while he was idle; so he kept as busy as they. One Saturday afternoon his workmen had quarrelled, and all went off in anger. He was in much perplexity for want of hands to do the work of the devil on the Lord's day. In the dusk of the evening a gang of singular-looking fellows entered the door of the distillery. Their dress was wild and uncouth, their eyes glared, and their language had a tone that was awful. They offered to work for the Deacon; and he, on his part, was overjoyed; for he thought within himself that as they had probably been turned out of employment elsewhere, he could engage them on his own terms.

He made them his accustomed offer; as much rum every day, when work was done, as they could drink; but they would not take it. Some of them broke out and told him that they had enough of hot things where they came from, without drinking damnation in the distillery. And when they said that, it seemed to the Deacon as if their breath burned blue; but he was not certain, and could not tell what to make of it. Then he offered them a pittance of money; but they set up such a laugh, that he thought the roof of the building would fall in. They demanded a sum which the Deacon said he could not give, and would not, to the best set of workmen that ever lived, much less to such piratical-looking scape-jails as they. Finally, he said,