There was not here even that last friend of the outcast--the dog, which a painter has introduced as the sole attendant at the pauper's burial! He whom they were preparing to commit to the earth was going to the tomb, as he had lived, alone; doubtless no one would be aware of his end.

In this battle of society, what signifies a soldier the less?
But what, then, is this human society, if one of its members can thus disappear like a leaf carried away by the wind?
The hospital was near a barrack, at the entrance of which old men, women, and children were quarrelling for the remains of the coarse bread which the soldiers had given them in charity! Thus, beings like ourselves daily wait in destitution on our compassion till we give them leave to live! Whole troops of outcasts, in addition to the trials imposed on all God's children, have to endure the pangs of cold, hunger, and humiliation.

Unhappy human commonwealth! Where man is in a worse condition than the bee in its hive, or the ant in its subterranean city! Ah! what then avails our reason?
What is the use of so many high faculties, if we are neither the wiser nor the happier for them?
Which of us would not exchange his life of labor and trouble with that of the birds of the air, to whom the whole world is a life of joy?
How well I understand the complaint of Mao, in the popular tales of the 'Foyer Breton' who, when dying of hunger and thirst, says, as he looks at the bullfinches rifling the fruit-trees: "Alas! those birds are happier than Christians; they have no need of inns, or butchers, or bakers, or gardeners.

God's heaven belongs to them, and earth spreads a continual feast before them! The tiny flies are their game, ripe grass their cornfields, and hips and haws their store of fruit.

They have the right of taking everywhere, without paying or asking leave: thus comes it that the little birds are happy, and sing all the livelong day!" But the life of man in a natural state is like that of the birds; he equally enjoys nature.