rom the herd, one
proudly looking about, the other timid and cast down; and every minute
some will leave their grazing, go and shew submission, and give a caress
to the one, and a kick or a bite to the other.

Such scenes I have often observed, and I have also witnessed the
consequence, which is, that the outcast eventually commits suicide,
another crime supposed to be practised only by reasoning creatures like
ourselves. I have seen horses, when tired of their pariah life, walk
round and round large trees, as if to ascertain the degree of hardness
required; they have then measured their distance, and darting with
furious speed against it, fractured their skull, and thus got rid of
life and oppression.

I remember a particular instance; it was at the settlement. I was yet a
boy, and during the hotter hours of the day, I used to take my books and
go with one of the missionaries to study near a torrent, under the cool
shade of a magnolia.

All the trees around us were filled with numerous republics of
squirrels, scampering and jumping from branch to branch, and, forgetful
of every thing else, we would sometimes watch their sport for hours
together. Among them we had remarked one, who kept solitary between the
stems of an absynth shrub, not ten yards from our usual station. There
he would lie motionless for hours basking in the sun, till some other
squirrels would perceive him. Then they would jump upon him, biting and
scratching till they were tired, and the poor animal would offer no
resistance, and only give way to his grief by plaintive cries.

At this sight, the good Padre did not lose the opportunity to inculcate
a lesson, and after he had finished speaking, he would strike his hands
together to terrify the assailants.

"Yes," observed I, using his own words, "it is nature."

"Alas! no," he would reply; "'tis too horrible to be nature; it is only
one of the numerous evils generated from society." The Padre was a
great philosopher, and he was right.

One day, while we were watching this pariah of a squirrel, we detected a
young one slowly creeping through the adjoining shrubs; he had in his
mouth a ripe fruit, a parcimon, if I remember right. At every moment he
would stop and look as if he were watched, just as if he feared
detection. At last he arrived near the pariah, and deposited before him
his offering to misery and old age.

We watched this spectacle with feelings which I could not describe;
th