{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_26500/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_26500","id":"gutenberg_26500","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/26500","summary":null,"tags":["Animals-Domestic","Category: Nature/Gardening/Animals","Dogs -- Folklore"],"text":"Produced by Bryan Ness, Chris Logan and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This\nbook was produced from scanned images of public domain\nmaterial from the Google Print project.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nANECDOTES\nOF\nDOGS.\n\nBY\n\nEDWARD JESSE, ESQ.\n\n\n\"Histories are more full of examples of\nthe fidelity of dogs than of friends.\"\n                                      POPE.\n\n\nWith numerous Engravings.\n\n\nLONDON:\nHENRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN.\nMDCCCLVIII.\n\n\n\n\nLONDON:\nPrinted by G. Barclay, Castle St. Leicester Sq.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThe character, sensibilities, and intellectual faculties of animals\nhave always been a favourite study, and they are, perhaps, more\nstrongly developed in the dog than in any other quadruped, from the\ncircumstance of his being the constant companion of man. I am aware\nhow much has been written on this subject, but having accumulated many\noriginal and interesting anecdotes of this faithful animal, I have\nattempted to enlarge the general stock of information respecting it.\nIt is a pleasing task, arising from the conviction that the more the\ncharacter of the dog is known, the better his treatment is likely to\nbe, and the stronger the sympathy excited in his behalf.\n\nLet me hope, that the examples which are given in the following pages\nwill help to produce this effect, and that a friend so faithful, a\nprotector so disinterested and courageous, will meet with that\nkindness and affection he so well deserves.\n\nIt is now my grateful duty to express my thanks to those friends who\nhave so kindly contributed original anecdotes to this work, and\nespecially to Lady Morgan and Mrs. S. Carter Hall for their remarks on\nthe Irish wolf-dog.\n\nI have also to acknowledge my obligations for various anecdotes\nillustrative of the character of peculiar dogs, extracted from Colonel\nHamilton Smith's volumes in the Naturalist's Library and Captain\nBrown's interesting sketches; as well to the Editor of the \"Irish\nPenny Magazine\" for his extremely well-written account of the Irish\nwolf-dog; and to other sources too numerous to mention.\n\nThe present new edition is considerably enlarged, both in matter and\nplates, and, to suit the taste of the age is presented in a cheap and\npopular form.\n\nMy Publisher has, as usual, lent his aid, and is responsible for some\nof the additional anecdotes, for the account of the _Setter_, and for\nall after page 458, including the chapter \"On Feeding and Management.\"\n\nEDWARD JESSE.\n\n_East Sheen, Sept. 1858._\n\n\n\n\nENGRAVINGS ON WOOD.\n\n\n      TITLE.                         PAINTER.         ENGRAVER.     PAGE\n\n   1. Spaniel & Newfoundland Dogs    W. Harvey        W. Branston      1\n   2. Retriever                      W. Harvey        W. Branston     54\n   3. Tail-piece                     W. P. Smith      T. Gilks        83\n   4. Deer-hounds                    W. Harvey        W. Branston     85\n   5. Tail-piece                     W. P. Smith      T. Gilks       132\n   6. Newfoundland Dog               W. Harvey        W. Branston    133\n   7. Tail-piece                     W. P. Smith      T. Gilks       184\n   8. The Colley, or Shepherd's Dog  Stewart          Pearson        185\n   9. Tail-piece                     W. P. Smith      T. Gilks       239\n  10. St. Bernard Dog                W. P. Smith      T. Gilks       240\n  11. Chasseur & Cuba Bloodhounds    Freeman          Whiting        250\n  12. Tail-piece                     W. P. Smith      T. Gilks       263\n  13. The Terrier                    W. Harvey        W. Branston    264\n  14. Tail-piece                     W. P. Smith      T. Gilks       299\n  15. The Blenheim Spaniel           W. Harvey        Pearson        300\n  16. Tail-piece                     W. P. Smith      T. Gilks       330\n  17. The Poodle                     Carpendale       Pearson        331\n  18. Tail-piece                     W. P. Smith      T. Gilks       352\n  19. Vignette                       W. P. Smith      T. Gilks       353\n  20. Otter Hunting                  W. P. Smith      T. Gilks       361\n  21. Tail-piece                     W. Harvey        Vizitelly      366\n  22. Greyhounds                     W. Harvey        Vizitelly      367\n  23. Tail-piece                     C. D. Radcliffe  E. Landells    382\n  24. The Pointer                    W. Harvey        W. Branston    383\n  25. Tail-piece                     W. P. Smith      T. Gilks       399\n  26. The Setter                     W. Harvey        W. Branston    400\n  27. Tail-piece                     Bewick           Bewick         411\n  28. The Comforter                  W. R. Smith      Pearson        412\n  29. A Pugnacious Pair              Cruickshank      Cruickshank    417\n  30. The Foxhound                   C. D. Radcliffe  E. Landells    421\n  31. Hounds in a Bath               C. D. Radcliffe  E. Landells    437\n  32. The Beagle                     W. R. Smith      T. Gilks       438\n  33. Tail-piece                     C. D. Radcliffe  E. Landells    439\n  34. The Mastiff                    W. Harvey        Whimper        440\n  35. Tail-piece                     W. R. Smith      T. Gilks       453\n  36. The Bull-dog                   W. Harvey        Vizitelly      454\n  37. Tail-piece                     W. R. Smith      T. Gilks       458\n  38. Tail-piece                     Seymour          Pearson        481\n  39. Feeding Hounds                 C. D. Radcliffe  E. Landells    482\n  40. Tail-piece                     W. R. Smith      T. Gilks       490\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n    INTRODUCTION--Value, propensities, and origin of the dog, 1 _et\n    passim_--the wolf partially domesticated, 6--wild dogs of Ceylon,\n    15--Sir Walter Scott's bull-dog terrier Camp, 16--the dog and the\n    pieman, 17--death of a dog from affection for its deceased\n    mistress, 18--frozen fowls rescued by a house-dog, 19--Sir R.\n    Brownrigg's dog, 19--the author's terrier Phiz, 20--a dog fond of\n    travelling by himself, 20--runaway horse caught by a dog, 21--lost\n    money guarded by, 21--dogs can reckon time, 22--death of a dog\n    from joy at the return of his master, 22--faithfulness of a dog to\n    its charge, 24--the dog's character influenced by that of its\n    master, 25--sense of smelling, 26--duel about a dog, 28--murder\n    prevented by, 29--a faithful dog killed by mistake, 30--sporting\n    anecdotes of Smoaker, Bachelor, Blunder, &c., 31--intelligence of\n    the dog, 42--tact in cat-hunting, 44--find their way home from\n    long distances, 46--bantam rescued from a game cock,\n    46--perception of right and wrong, 47--turkey punished for\n    gluttony, 48--speaking dogs, 48-9--a singing dog, 50--creatures of\n    habit, 50--Caniche and the breeches, 51--distinguishes his\n    master's customers, 54--a robber killed by a dog, 55--Dr. Hooper's\n    dog, 55--the fireman's dog, Tyke, 56--the fireman's dog, Bill,\n    60--dog used as a servant, 61--Mr. Backhouse's dog, 62--the\n    post-dog's revenge, 62--dog returns from Bangalore to Pondicherry,\n    63--Mr. Decouick's dog, 63--a dog saves human life, 64--guards a\n    chair dropped from a waggon, 64--rescues his master from an\n    avalanche, 64--spaniel tracks his master to Drury Lane, and\n    discovers him in the pit, 65--large dog rescues a small one from\n    drowning, 65--a canine messenger, 66--contrivance of a\n    Newfoundland to get a bun, 67--dog lost for nine weeks in the dome\n    of St. Paul's, 67--support themselves in a wild state,\n    69--laughable account of the transmigration of souls in connexion\n    with dogs, 71--sheep-dogs in the Pyrenees, 76--Mrs. S. C. Hall's\n    dog, 77--musical spaniel of Darmstadt, 77--Lord Grenville's lines\n    on the dog, 82.\n\n\nTHE IRISH AND HIGHLAND WOLF-DOG.\n\n    History of the Irish wolf-dog, 86 _et seq. passim_--supposed\n    recognition of a wolf-dog of the Irish blood royal, 86--lines on\n    the Irish wolf-dog, 88--anecdotes from Plutarch, 89--the dog of\n    Montargis, 90--the dog of Aughrim, 93--wolf-hunting in Tyrone,\n    94--sheep-killing wolf-dog, 107--Buskar and Bran, 112--incident\n    with Lord Ossulton's hounds, 116--Bruno and O'Toole, 117--a\n    deer-hound recovers a glove from a boy, 119--Sir W. Scott's dog\n    Maida, 120--a deer-hound detains a suspicious person, 120--follows\n    a wounded deer for three days, 121--Comhstri drowns a stag,\n    122--Scotch dogs much prized in England, 123--Llewellyn and Beth\n    Gelert, 124--Lady Morgan on the Irish wolf-dog, 127.\n\n\nTHE NEWFOUNDLAND DOG.\n\n    Character, &c., 133--saves people from drowning, 135--Baby,\n    136--saves a child from being run over, 136--saves a spaniel from\n    being drowned, 137--saves a gentleman from drowning at Portsmouth,\n    138--saves a man in a mill-stream, 138--calculating dogs,\n    138--Sabbath party disturbed by a dog, 139--Archdeacon Wix's dog,\n    140--a Newfoundland brings away breeches containing money\n    belonging to his master, 143--commits suicide, 145--saves a\n    coachman in the Thames, 146--tries to drown a spaniel, 147--uses\n    his paw as a fishing-bait, 148--in carrying two hats puts one\n    inside other, 148--three dogs previously enemies unite against a\n    common foe, 149--a dog saves his drowning enemy, 151--releases\n    himself and companions from captivity, 152--a swimming-wager\n    amusingly lost by a dog's care, 153--the dog as postman,\n    153--swims for ten hours in a tempestuous sea, 153--saves his dead\n    master's pocket-book, 154--Lord Grenville's lines on the,\n    155--Newfoundland dog ducks his aggressor, 157--carries a rope to\n    the shore, 158--saves an ungrateful master, 158--guardian of a\n    lady's honour, 160--anecdotes of Mr. M'Intyre's dog Dandie,\n    160-5--a Newfoundland causes the detection of a dishonest porter,\n    165--saves twelve persons from drowning, 166--watches over his\n    drunken master, 167--his humanity occasions a disturbance at\n    Woolwich Theatre, 167--carries a lanthorn before his master,\n    168--saves the lives of all on board the Durham Packet,\n    170--drowns a pet lamb out of jealousy, 171--rescues a canary\n    which had flown into the sea, 171--saves his old master from\n    robbers, 173--St. John's and Labrador dogs, 176--long remembrance\n    of injuries, 177--discovers a poacher, 178--discretion and\n    revenge, 178--returns from Berwick to London, 179--the Romans had\n    some dog of the same kind, 179--liberates a man who had fallen\n    into a gravel-pit, 180--Boatswain provides his mistress a dinner,\n    181--a trespasser detained, 181--Victor at the Battle of\n    Copenhagen, 182--a Newfoundland dog retrieves on the ice,\n    182--fetches a coat from the tailor's, 183--lines by Lord Eldon,\n    184.\n\n\nTHE COLLEY OR SHEPHERD'S DOG.\n\n    Saves the life of Mr. Satterthwaite, 186--the Ettrick Shepherd's\n    dog, Sirrah, collects a scattered flock at midnight, 188--Hector,\n    189--points the cat, 191--has an ear for music, 194--hears where\n    his master is going, and precedes him, 196--a wonderful sheep-dog,\n    199--a bitch having pupped deposits her young in the hills, and\n    afterwards fetches them home, 201--cunning of sheep-stealing dogs,\n    202-5--a sheep-dog dies of starvation whilst tending his charge,\n    206--discrimination of a sheep-dog, 207--a sheep-dog remembers all\n    the turnings of a road, 208--follows a young woman who had\n    borrowed his mistress's cloak, 211--Drummer saves a cow,\n    212--Caesar rescues his master from an avalanche, 213--a sheep-dog\n    snatches away a beggar's stick, 214--a colley conducts the flock\n    whilst his master is drinking, 214--dishonesty punished, 215--a\n    sporting colley, 216--a colley buries her drowned offspring,\n    217--brings assistance to her helpless master, 217--saves his\n    master from being frozen to death, 219--his master having broken\n    his arm sends home his dog for assistance, 220--a colley punishes\n    a tailor's dog for worrying his flock, 221--the sheep-stealing\n    colley, 222--a colley distinguishes diseased sheep, 228--the\n    Ettrick Shepherd's story of the dog Chieftain, 230--a colley feeds\n    his master's lost child on the Grampian Hills, 232--the shepherds'\n    dogs of North Wales, 235--training a colley, 238.\n\n\nTHE ST. BERNARD DOG.\n\n    Mrs. Houston's lines on the, 240--peculiar intelligence of,\n    241--the monks and their dogs, 242--a dog saves a woman's life,\n    243--intuitive foreboding of danger, 244--a dog saves a child,\n    245--revenges his ill-treated master, 247--a St. Bernard dog named\n    Barry saves forty lives, 248--destruction of a whole party by an\n    avalanche, 249.\n\n\nTHE BLOODHOUND.\n\n    Habits of the bloodhound, 251--its remarkable scent, 252--pursuit\n    of Wallace with a bloodhound, 253--bloodhounds employed for\n    hunting negroes in Cuba, 253--a bloodhound traces a miscreant\n    twenty miles, 255--Sir W. Scott's description of a bloodhound,\n    255--extract from Wanley's \"Wonders,\" 256--a bloodhound discovers\n    a lost child, 257--the Spanish chasseurs and their dogs, 258--a\n    sheepstealer discovered by a bloodhound, 260--atrocities of the\n    Spaniards, 261.\n\n\nTHE TERRIER.\n\n    Its varieties, 265--Peter, 266--a terrier kills a child from\n    jealousy, 268--pines to death from jealousy, 268--guards a lady in\n    her walks, 269--affection of a terrier, 269--Sir Walter Scott's\n    description of Wasp, 270--brings assistance to his imprisoned\n    master, 271--gets a friend to pay his boat-hire, 272--Mrs.\n    Grosvenor's dog, 273--a bell-ringing and message-carrying terrier,\n    273--a dog knows his mistress's dress, and follows the wearer,\n    274--anecdotes of a terrier at Hampton Court, 274--a terrier saves\n    his master from being burnt to death, 277--suckles a rat,\n    277--tries to prevent his master from beating his son, 278--Pincer\n    seeks assistance in dislodging rats, 278--a terrier rescues her\n    two drowned pups, 280--seeks assistance in getting a bone,\n    281--gets a lady to ring the bell for him, 282--flies at the\n    throat of a man who attacks his master, 282--a grateful terrier,\n    283--attachment to a cat, 283--clever expedient of two\n    affectionate dogs, 284--Snap, 285--the fate of a gentleman\n    revealed to his family by means of a terrier, 286--a terrier in\n    the Tower follows a soldier to find his master, 288--Snob, 289--a\n    terrier suckles fox-cubs, 290--brings assistance to his canine\n    friend, 291--returns from York to London, 292--finds a thief in\n    the cupboard, 292--friendship between a terrier and bantam,\n    293--traces his master to Gravesend, 294--Peter, 295--a terrier\n    suckles a kitten, 295--a terrier discovers where his master has\n    travelled by the scent, 296--nurses a brood of ducklings and\n    chickens, 296--brings his master's wife to the dead body of her\n    husband, 297--Keeper recognises his master's vessel after a long\n    interval, 298.\n\n\nTHE SPANIEL.\n\n    Sings, 300--affected by a particular air, 301--gathers a\n    water-lily, 303--retrieves a wild duck, 303--a grateful spaniel,\n    304--faithful to his guillotined master, 304--Dash, her\n    intelligence and fidelity, 305--gratitude for surgical assistance,\n    306--spaniels in cover, 308--the Clumber spaniels, 308--Lord\n    Albemarle's spaniels, 309--suckling, 309--friendship between a dog\n    and cat, 310--Rose travels from London to Worcester,\n    311--recognition of his master after a long absence,\n    312--friendship between a spaniel and partridge, 313--a spaniel\n    avoids being left behind, 315--an adept in shoplifting, 316--takes\n    up his abode at a grave in St. Bride's churchyard, 317--dies of\n    grief for his dam's death, 317--dogs of the poor the most\n    affectionate, 318--a spaniel takes up his abode in St. Olave's\n    churchyard, 319--causes a man to be executed for murder,\n    320--saves the life of Mrs. Alderman Yearsley, 321--a spaniel's\n    recognition of his old master by scent, 323--a King Charles\n    spaniel alarms his mistress and saves her from being robbed,\n    324--a spaniel knocks at the door, 326--opens the gate to release\n    other dogs, 326--imitates his master in eating turnips, 327--finds\n    his way from Boston to Chepstow, 328--prevents a cat from stealing\n    meat, 329--Mrs. Browning's lines on, 329.\n\n\nTHE POODLE.\n\n    The Shoeblack's poodle, 332--two learned poodles exhibited at\n    Milan, 332--a poodle reminds the servant that he wants a walk,\n    336--hides the whip, 336--performance in a London theatre,\n    337--finds his way from London to Inverary, 342--supports himself\n    during his master's absence, 342--friendship with a terrier,\n    342--discerns a rogue at first sight, and causes him to be\n    detected, 343--enjoys a glass of grog, 344--carries three puppies\n    a long distance, one at a time, 345--fetches his master's\n    slippers, &c., 346--imitates the agonies of death, 346--goes to\n    church by habit without the family, the road being overflowed,\n    347--watches over the dead body of his master, 347--protects his\n    master's body, 348--climbs up a house in Wells Street, Oxford\n    Street, 348--anecdote of Froll, 349.\n\n\nTHE ESQUIMAUX DOG.\n\n    Traditions, 353--Capt. Lyons' account of the, 354--Col. Hamilton\n    Smith's account of one, 359.\n\n\nTHE OTTER TERRIER.\n\n    Somerville's description of an otter-hunt, 361--otter-hounds\n    almost extinct, 362--otter-hunting, 363 to end of chapter.\n\n\nTHE GREYHOUND.\n\n    Match between a Scotch greyhound and Snowball, 368--Match between\n    a greyhound and a racehorse, 368--its courage and perseverance,\n    369--a coursed hare dies of exhaustion, 369--a hare and two dogs\n    die of exhaustion, 370--a wild greyhound, 370--greyhounds coupled\n    pursue a hare, 372--a greyhound brings assistance to his drowning\n    master, 372--finds his way from Cumnock to Castle Douglas,\n    373--canine friendship, 373--King Richard's greyhound,\n    375--attachment between St. Leger and his greyhound, 377--the\n    Persian greyhound, 379.\n\n\nTHE POINTER.\n\n    Its origin and present breed, 384--a pointer punished by her\n    grand-dam, 386--disgust at a bad shot, 387--pointing on the top of\n    a wall, 388--steady pointing, 389--a weather-wise pointer,\n    389--guards some dropped birds all night, 389--finds his way back\n    from America, 390--traces his master four hundred miles, 390--M.\n    Leonard's dogs, Brague and Philax, 391--a pointer acts as a\n    landing-net, 394--calls the attention of his master to a hare,\n    394--an extraordinary pointer, 395--a pointer suckles a hedgehog,\n    398.\n\n\nTHE SETTER.\n\n    Its origin and present breed, 400--smells birds a hundred yards\n    off, 401--acts as a retriever, 402--traces a wounded deer, and\n    brings her master to it next morning, 403--finds a lost whip,\n    404--gratitude of a dying setter, 405--friendship with a cat,\n    406--a setter angry with his master for missing birds, 406--falls\n    in love with a mongrel, 407--effect of imagination on pregnant\n    bitches, 408--Medor brings the keys to his shut-out mistress,\n    409--sagacity in hunting red-legged partridges, 410.\n\n\nTHE PUG DOG.\n\n    Its history and progress, 412--a pug saves the life of the Prince\n    of Orange, 413--a lady incurs a pug's displeasure for preventing\n    him from stealing, 414--a pug pronounces the word William,\n    415--ditto Elizabeth, 416--the Comforter, 416.\n\n\nTHE TURNSPIT.\n\n    Recollections of it, 418--an industrious dog punishes his lazy\n    fellow-labourer, 419--one dog forces another to take his turn at\n    the wheel, 420.\n\n\nTHE FOXHOUND.\n\n    Somerville's lines on, 421--friendship between a fox and a pack of\n    hounds, 424--dog always attacks the fox's head, 424--a hound finds\n    its way back from Lincolnshire to Frogmore, 425--dog found\n    swimming across the Channel, 425--dog finds its way back from\n    Ireland to Liverpool, 425--three hounds escape from their kennel\n    in Ireland and return to Leicestershire, 426--bitch after losing\n    her eye continues to follow the fox, 427--three hounds hunt a fox\n    alone for seven hours, 428--pack of hounds hunt a fox for eight\n    hours, 428--a hound follows a fox for thirty hours, 429--foxhound\n    follows with her new-born pup in mouth, 429--hounds follow a fox\n    for four days, 430--fox leaps a precipice of sixty yards and is\n    followed by the hounds, 433--foxhounds refuse to eat a bag-fox,\n    435.\n\n\nBEAGLE.\n\n    Description of, 438--lines on, by Dryden and Pope, 439.\n\n\nMASTIFF.\n\n    Description of, 440--detects and kills a housebreaker,\n    443--mastiff engages a bear, a leopard, and a lion, 444--prevents\n    his master from being murdered by his valet, 446--gentle towards\n    children, 448--killed by the wheel of a cart rather than desert\n    his charge, 449--attacks a horse which had trodden upon him,\n    450--drops a snarling cur into the water, 453.\n\n\nBULL-DOG.\n\n    Description of, 454--saves a shipwrecked crew, 457.\n\n\nDALMATIAN OR COACH-DOG.\n\n    Finds its way from France to England, 461--affection for a horse,\n    462.\n\n\nGREAT DANISH DOG.\n\n    Discovers a murderer under the bed, 464--dies of starvation rather\n    than eat his master's game within reach, 465--rings a convent bell\n    for his dinner, 466.\n\n\nCUR DOG.\n\n    Prevents a man from stealing a bridle, 468--carries his master's\n    dinner to him daily, 470--pursues a pony and conducts him to the\n    stable, 474.\n\n\nLURCHER.\n\n    Hunting rabbits, 477--attacks a fox and is killed by the hounds,\n    479.\n\n\nBAN DOG.\n\n    Gratitude for a favour conferred, 480.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: SPANIEL AND NEWFOUNDLAND DOGS.]\n\n\nA French writer has boldly affirmed, that with the exception of women\nthere is nothing on earth so agreeable, or so necessary to the comfort\nof man, as the dog. This assertion may readily be disputed, but still\nit will be allowed that man, deprived of the companionship and\nservices of the dog, would be a solitary and, in many respects, a\nhelpless being. Let us look at the shepherd, as the evening closes in\nand his flock is dispersed over the almost inaccessible heights of\nmountains; they are speedily collected by his indefatigable dog--nor\ndo his services end here: he guards either the flock or his master's\ncottage by night, and a slight caress, and the coarsest food, satisfy\nhim for all his trouble. The dog performs the services of a horse in\nthe more northern regions; while in Cuba and some other hot countries,\nhe has been the scourge and terror of the runaway negroes. In the\ndestruction of wild beasts, or the less dangerous stag, or in\nattacking the bull, the dog has proved himself to possess pre-eminent\ncourage. In many instances he has died in the defence of his master.\nHe has saved him from drowning, warned him of approaching danger,\nserved him faithfully in poverty and distress, and if deprived of\nsight has gently led him about. When spoken to, he tries to hold\nconversation with him by the movement of his tail or the expression of\nhis eyes. If his master wants amusement in the field or wood, he is\ndelighted to have an opportunity of procuring it for him; if he finds\nhimself in solitude, his dog will be a cheerful and agreeable\ncompanion, and maybe, when death comes, the last to forsake the grave\nof his beloved master.\n\nThere are a thousand little facts connected with dogs, which many, who\ndo not love them as much as I do, may not have observed, but which\nall tend to develope their character. For instance, every one knows\nthe fondness of dogs for warmth, and that they never appear more\ncontented than when reposing on the rug before a good fire. If,\nhowever, I quit the room, my dog leaves his warm berth, and places\nhimself at the door, where he can the better hear my footsteps, and be\nready to greet me when I re-enter. If I am preparing to take a walk,\nmy dog is instantly aware of my intention. He frisks and jumps about,\nand is all eagerness to accompany me. If I am thoughtful or\nmelancholy, he appears to sympathise with me; and, on the contrary,\nwhen I am disposed to be merry, he shows by his manner that he\nrejoices with me. I have often watched the effect which a change in my\ncountenance would produce. If I frown or look severe, but without\nsaying a word or uttering a sound, the effect is instantly seen by the\nears dropping, and the eyes showing unhappiness, together with a\ndoubtful movement of the tail. If I afterwards smile and look pleased,\nthe tail wags joyously, the eyes are filled with delight, and the ears\neven are expressive of happiness. Before a dog, however, arrives at\nthis knowledge of the human countenance, he must be the companion of\nyour walks, repose at your feet, and receive his food from your hands:\ntreated in this manner, the attachment of the dog is unbounded; he\nbecomes fond, intelligent, and grateful. Whenever Stanislas, the\nunfortunate King of Poland, wrote to his daughter, he always\nconcluded his letter with these words--\"Tristan, my companion in\nmisfortune, licks your feet:\" thus showing that he had still one\nfriend who stuck to him in his adversity. Such is the animal whose\npropensities, instincts, and habits, I propose to illustrate by\nvarious anecdotes.\n\nThe propensities of the dog, and some of them are most extraordinary,\nappear to be independent of that instinct which Paley calls, \"a\npropensity previous to experience, and independent of instruction.\"\nSome of these are hereditary, or derived from the habits of the\nparents, and are suited to the purposes to which each breed has long\nbeen and is still applied. In fact, their organs have a fitness or\nunfitness for certain functions without education;--for instance, a\nvery young puppy of the St. Bernard breed of dogs, when taken on snow\nfor the first time, will begin to scratch it with considerable\neagerness. I have seen a young pointer of three or four weeks old\nstand steadily on first seeing poultry, and a well-bred terrier puppy\nwill show a great deal of ferocity at the sight of a rat or mouse.\n\nSir John Sebright, perhaps the best authority that can be quoted on\nthis subject, says that he had a puppy of the wild breed of Australia;\nthat the mother was with young when caught, and the puppy was born in\nthe ship that brought her over. This animal was so like a wolf, not\nonly in its appearance, but in all its habits, that Sir John at first\ndoubted if it really were a dog, but this was afterwards proved by\nexperiment.\n\nOf all the propensities of the brute creation, the well-known\nattachment of the dog to man is the most remarkable, arising probably\nfrom his having been for so many years his constant companion, and the\nobject of his care. That this propensity is not instinctive is proved,\nby its not having existed, even in the slightest degree, in the\nAustralian dog.\n\nSir John Sebright kept this animal for about a year, almost always in\nhis room. He fed him himself, and took every means that he could think\nof to reclaim him, but with no effect. He was insensible to caresses,\nand never appeared to distinguish Sir John from any other person. The\ndog would never follow him, even from one room to another; nor would\nhe come when called, unless tempted by the offer of food. Wolves and\nfoxes have shown much more sociability than he did. He appeared to be\nin good spirits, but always kept aloof from the other dogs. He was\nwhat would be called tame for an animal in a menagerie; that is, he\nwas not shy, but would allow strangers to handle him, and never\nattempted to bite. If he were led near sheep or poultry, he became\nquite furious from his desire to attack them.\n\nHere, then, we see that the propensities that are the most marked, and\nthe most constant in every breed of domestic dogs, are not to be found\nin animals of the same species in their natural state, or even in\ntheir young, although subjected to the same treatment from the moment\nof their birth.\n\nNotwithstanding the above-mentioned fact, we may, I think, consider\nthe domestic dog as an animal _per se_; that is, that it neither owes\nits origin to the fox nor wolf, but is sprung from the wild dog. In\ngiving this opinion, I am aware that some naturalists have endeavoured\nto trace the origin of the dog from the fox; while others, and some of\nthe most eminent ones, are of opinion that it sprung from the wolf. I\nshall be able to show that the former is out of the question. The\nwolf, perhaps, has some claim to be considered as the parent animal,\nand that he is susceptible of as strong attachment as the dog is\nproved by the following anecdote, related by Cuvier.\n\nHe informs us, that a young wolf was brought up as a dog, became\nfamiliar with every person whom he was in the habit of seeing, and in\nparticular, followed his master everywhere, evincing evident chagrin\nat his absence, obeying his voice, and showing a degree of submission\nscarcely differing in any respect from that of the domesticated dog.\nHis master, being obliged to be absent for a time, presented his pet\nto the Menagerie du Roi, where the animal, confined in a den,\ncontinued disconsolate, and would scarcely eat his food. At length,\nhowever, his health returned, he became attached to his keepers, and\nappeared to have forgotten all his former affection; when, after an\nabsence of eighteen months, his master returned. At the first word he\nuttered, the wolf, who had not perceived him amongst the crowd,\nrecognised him, and exhibited the most lively joy. On being set at\nliberty, the most affectionate caresses were lavished on his old\nmaster, such as the most attached dog would have shown after an\nabsence of a few days.\n\nA second separation was followed by similar demonstrations of sorrow,\nwhich, however, again yielded to time. Three years passed, and the\nwolf was living happily in company with a dog, which had been placed\nwith him, when his master again returned, and again the long-lost but\nstill-remembered voice was instantly replied to by the most impatient\ncries, which were redoubled as soon as the poor animal was set at\nliberty; when, rushing to his master, he threw his fore-feet on his\nshoulders, licking his face with the most lively joy, and menacing his\nkeepers, who offered to remove him, and towards whom, not a moment\nbefore, he had been showing every mark of fondness.\n\nA third separation, however, seemed to be too much for this faithful\nanimal's temper. He became gloomy, desponding, refused his food, and\nfor a long time his life appeared in great danger. His health at last\nreturned, but he no longer suffered the caresses of any but his\nkeepers, and towards strangers manifested the original savageness of\nhis species.\n\nMr. Bell, in his \"History of Quadrupeds,\" mentions a curious fact,\nwhich, I think, still more strongly proves the alliance of the dog\nwith the wolf, and is indeed exactly similar to what is frequently\ndone by dogs when in a state of domestication. He informs us, that he\n\"remembers a bitch-wolf at the Zoological Gardens, which would always\ncome to the front bars of her den to be caressed as soon as he, or any\nother person whom she knew, approached. When she had pups, she used to\nbring them in her mouth to be noticed; and so eager, in fact, was she\nthat her little ones should share with her in the notice of her\nfriends, that she killed all of them in succession by rubbing them\nagainst the bars of her den, as she brought them forwards to be\nfondled.\"\n\nOther instances might be mentioned of the strong attachment felt by\nwolves to those who have treated them kindly, but I will now introduce\nsome remarks on the anatomical affinities between the dog, the fox,\nand the wolf, which serve to prove that the dog is of a breed distinct\nfrom either of the last-mentioned animals.\n\nIt must, in fact, be always an interesting matter of inquiry\nrespecting the descent of an animal so faithful to man, and so\nexclusively his associate and his friend, as the dog. Accordingly,\nthis question has been entertained ever since Natural History took the\nrank of a science. But the origin of the dog is lost in antiquity. We\nfind him occupying a place in the earliest pagan worship; his name has\nbeen given to one of the first-mentioned stars of the heavens, and his\neffigy may be seen in some of the most ancient works of art. Pliny was\nof opinion that there was no domestic animal without its unsubdued\ncounterpart, and dogs are known to exist absolutely wild in various\nparts of the old and new world. The Dingo of New Holland, a\nmagnificent animal of this kind, has been shown to be susceptible of\nmutual attachment in a singular degree, though none of the experiments\nyet made have proved that he is capable, like the domestic dog, of a\nsimilar attachment to man. The parentage of the wild dogs has been\nassigned to the tame species, strayed from the dominion of their\nmasters. This, however, still remains a question, and there is reason\nto believe that the wild dog is just as much a native of the\nwilderness as the lion or tiger. If there be these doubts about an\nanimal left for centuries in a state of nature, how can we expect to\nunravel the difficulties accumulated by ages of domestication? Who\nknows for a certainty the true prototype of the goat, the sheep, or\nthe ox? To the unscientific reader such questions might appear idle,\nas having been settled from time immemorial; yet they have never been\nfinally disposed of. The difficulty, as with the dog, may be connected\nwith modifications of form and colour, resulting from the\nlong-continued interference of man with the breed and habits of\nanimals subjected to his sway.\n\nBuffon was very eloquent in behalf of the claim of the sheep-dog to be\nconsidered as the true ancestor of all the other varieties. Mr. Hunter\nwould award this distinction to the wolf; supposing also that the\njackal is the same animal a step further advanced towards\ncivilization, or perhaps the dog returned to its wild state. As the\naffinity between wolf, jackal, fox, and dog, cannot fail to attract\nthe notice of the most superficial observer; so he may ask if they do\nnot all really belong to one species, modified by varieties of\nclimate, food, and education? If answered in the negative, he would\nwant to know what constitutes a species, little thinking that this\nquestion, apparently so simple, involves one of the nicest problems in\nnatural history. Difference of form will scarcely avail us here, for\nthe pug, greyhound, and spaniel, are wider apart in this respect, than\nmany dogs and the wild animals just named. It has often been said that\nthese varieties in the dog have arisen from artificial habits and\nbreeding through a long succession of years. This seems very like mere\nconjecture. Can the greyhound be trained to the pointer's scent or the\nspaniel to the bulldog's ferocity? But admitting the causes assigned\nto be adequate to the effects, then the forms would be temporary, and\nthose of a permanent kind only would serve our purpose. Of this nature\nis the shape of the pupil of the eye, which may be noticed somewhat\nparticularly, not merely to make it plain to those who have never\nthought on the subject, but with the hope of leading them to\nreflections on this wondrous inlet to half our knowledge, the more\nespecially as the part in question may be examined by any one in his\nown person by the help of a looking-glass. In the front of the eye\nthen, just behind the transparent surface, there is a sort of curtain\ncalled the _iris_, about the middle of which is a round hole. This is\nthe pupil, and you will observe that it contracts in a strong light,\nand dilates in a weaker one, the object of which is to regulate the\nquantity of light admitted into the eye. Now the figure of the pupil\nis not the same in all animals. In the horse it is oval; in the wolf,\njackal, and dog, it is round, like our own, however contracted; but in\nthe fox, as in the cat, the pupil contracts vertically into an\nelongated figure, like the section of a lens, and even to a sort of\nslit, if the light be very strong.\n\nThis is a permanent character, not affected, as far as is at present\nknown, by any artificial or natural circumstances to which the dog has\nbeen subjected. Naturalists, therefore, have seized upon this\ncharacter as the ground for a division of animals of the dog kind, the\ngreat genus _Canis_ of Linnaeus, into two groups, the diurnal and\nnocturnal; not to imply that these habits necessarily belong to all\nthe individuals composing either of these divisions, for that would be\nuntrue, but simply that the figure of the pupils corresponds with that\nfrequently distinguishing day-roaming animals from those that prowl\nonly by night. It is remarkable that a more certain and serviceable\nspecific distinction is thus afforded by a little anatomical point,\nthan by any of the more obvious circumstances of form, size, or\ncolour. Whether future researches into the minute structure of animals\nmay not discover other means to assist the naturalist in\ndistinguishing nearly allied species, is a most important subject for\ninquiry, which cannot be entertained here. But to encourage those who\nmay be disposed to undertake it, I must mention the curious fact, that\nthe group to which the camel belongs is not more certainly indicated\nby his grotesque and singular figure than by the form of the red\nparticles which circulate in his blood. And here again the inherent\ninterest of the matter will lead me to enter a little into\nparticulars, which may engage any one who has a good microscope in a\nmost instructive course of observations, not the least recommendation\nof which is, that a just and pleasing source of recreation may be thus\npursued by evening parties in the drawing-room, since the slightest\nprick of the finger will furnish blood enough for a microscopic\nentertainment, and you may readily procure a little more for\ncomparison from any animal.\n\nNow the redness of the blood is owing to myriads of minute objects in\nwhich the colour of the vital fluid resides. They were formerly called\nglobules, but as they are now known to be flattened and disc-like,\nthey are more properly termed particles or corpuscles. Their form is\nwonderfully regular, and so is their size within certain limits; in\nbirds, reptiles, or fishes, the corpuscles are oval. They are circular\nin man, and all other mammalia, except in the camel tribe, in which\nthe corpuscles are oval, though much smaller than in the lower\nanimals. Thus, in the minutest drop of blood, any one of the camel\nfamily can be surely distinguished from all other animals, even from\nits allies among the ruminants; and what is more to our purpose,\nin pursuing this inquiry, Mr. Gulliver has found that the\nblood-corpuscles of the dog and wolf agree exactly, while those of all\nthe true foxes are slightly though distinctly smaller.\n\nThese curious facts are all fully detailed in Mr. Gulliver's Appendix\nto the English version of Gerber's Anatomy, but I think that they are\nnow for the first time enlisted into the service of Natural History.\n\nThus we dismiss the fox as an alien to the dog, or, at all events, as\na distinct species. Then comes the claim of the wolf as the true\noriginal of the dog. Before considering this, let us revert to the\nquestion of what constitutes a species. Mr. Hunter was of opinion that\nit is the power of breeding together and of continuing the breed with\neach other; that this is partially the case between the dog and the\nwolf is certain, for Lord Clanbrassil and Lord Pembroke proved the\nfact beyond a doubt, above half-a-century ago; and the following\nepitaph in the garden at Wilton House is a curious record of the\nparticulars:--\n\n                     Here lies Lupa,\n              Whose Grandmother was a Wolf,\n    Whose Father and Grandfather were Dogs, and whose\n           Mother was half Wolf and half Dog.\n         She died on the 16th of October, 1782,\n                     Aged 12 years.\n\nConclusive as this fact may appear, as proving the descent of the dog\nfrom the wolf, it is not convincing, the dog having characters which\ndo not belong to the wolf.\n\nThe dog, for instance, guards property with strictest vigilance, which\nhas been entrusted to his charge; all his energies seem roused at\nnight, as though aware that that is the time when depredations are\ncommitted. His courage is unbounded, a property not possessed by the\nwolf: he appears never to forget a kindness, but soon loses the\nrecollection of an injury, if received from the hand of one he loves,\nbut resents it if offered by a stranger. His docility and mental\npliability exceed those of any other animal; his habits are social,\nand his fidelity not to be shaken; hunger cannot weaken, nor old age\nimpair it. His discrimination is equal, in many respects, to human\nintelligence. If he commits a fault, he is sensible of it, and shows\npleasure when commended. These, and many other qualities, which might\nhave been enumerated, are distinct from those possessed by the wolf.\nIt may be said that domestication might produce them in the latter.\nThis may be doubted, and is not likely to be proved; the fact is, the\ndog would appear to be a precious gift to man from a benevolent\nCreator, to become his friend, companion, protector, and the\nindefatigable agent of his wishes. While all other animals had the\nfear and dread of man implanted in them, the poor dog alone looked at\nhis master with affection, and the tie once formed was never broken to\nthe present hour.\n\nIt should also be mentioned, in continuation of my argument, that the\nexperiment of the wolf breeding with the dog is of no value, because\nit has never been carried sufficiently far to prove that the progeny\nwould continue fertile _inter se_. The wolf has oblique eyes--the eyes\nof dogs have never retrograded to that position. If the dog descended\nfrom the wolf, a constant tendency would have been observed in the\nformer to revert to the original type or species. This is a law in all\nother cross-breeds--but amongst all the varieties of dogs, this\ntendency has not existed. I may also add, that as far as I have been\nable to ascertain the fact, the number of teats of the female wolf\nhave never been known to vary. With respect to the dog, it is known\nthat they do vary, some having more, and others a less number.\n\nHaving thus brought forward such arguments as have occurred to me to\nprove that the dog is a breed _sui generis_, I will give a few\nanecdotes to show how different this animal is in his specific\ncharacter to the wolf, and that he has a natural tendency to\nacknowledge man as his friend and protector, an instinct never shown\nby the wolf.\n\nIn Ceylon there are a great number of what are called wild dogs, that\nis, dogs who have no master, and who haunt villages and jungles,\npicking up what food they are able to find. If you meet one of these\nneglected animals, and only look at him with an expression of\nkindness, from that moment he attaches himself to you, owns you for\nhis master, and will remain faithful to you for the remainder of his\nlife.\n\n\"Man,\" says Burns, \"is the God of the dog; he knows no other; and see\nhow he worships him! With what reverence he crouches at his feet, with\nwhat reverence he looks up to him, with what delight he fawns upon\nhim, and with what cheerful alacrity he obeys him!\"\n\nSuch is the animal which the brutality of man subjects to so much\nill-treatment; its character depends very much on that of his master,\nkindness and confidence produce the same qualities in the dog, while\nill-usage makes him sullen and distrustful of beings far more brutal\nthan himself.\n\nI have had many opportunities of observing how readily dogs comprehend\nlanguage, and how they are aware when they are the subject of\nconversation. A gentleman once said in the hearing of an old and\nfavourite dog, who was at the time basking in the sun,--\"I must have\nPonto killed, for he gets old and is offensive.\" The dog slunk away,\nand never came near his master afterwards. Many similar anecdotes\nmight be brought forward, but I will mention one which Captain Brown\ntells us he received himself from Sir Walter Scott.\n\n\"The wisest dog I ever had,\" said Sir Walter, \"was what is called the\nbulldog terrier. I taught him to understand a great many words,\ninsomuch that I am positive that the communication betwixt the canine\nspecies and ourselves might be greatly enlarged. Camp once bit the\nbaker, who was bringing bread to the family. I beat him, and explained\nthe enormity of his offence; after which, to the last moment of his\nlife, he never heard the least allusion to the story, in whatever\nvoice or tone it was mentioned, without getting up and retiring into\nthe darkest corner of the room, with great appearance of distress.\nThen if you said, 'the baker was well paid,' or, 'the baker was not\nhurt after all,' Camp came forth from his hiding-place, capered, and\nbarked, and rejoiced. When he was unable, towards the end of his life,\nto attend me when on horseback, he used to watch for my return, and\nthe servant would tell him 'his master was coming down the hill, or\nthrough the moor,' and although he did not use any gesture to explain\nhis meaning, Camp was never known to mistake him, but either went out\nat the front to go up the hill, or at the back to get down to the\nmoor-side. He certainly had a singular knowledge of spoken language.\"\nAn anecdote from Sir Walter Scott must be always pleasing.\n\nMr. Smellie, in his \"Philosophy of Natural History,\" mentions a\ncurious instance of the intellectual faculty of a dog. He states that\n\"a grocer in Edinburgh had one which for some time amused and\nastonished the people in the neighbourhood. A man who went through the\nstreets ringing a bell and selling pies, happened one day to treat\nthis dog with a pie. The next time he heard the pieman's bell he ran\nimpetuously toward him, seized him by the coat, and would not suffer\nhim to pass. The pieman, who understood what the animal wanted, showed\nhim a penny, and pointed to his master, who stood at the street-door,\nand saw what was going on. The dog immediately supplicated his master\nby many humble gestures and looks, and on receiving a penny he\ninstantly carried it in his mouth to the pieman, and received his pie.\nThis traffic between the pieman and the grocer's dog continued to be\ndaily practised for several months.\"\n\nThe affection which some dogs show to their masters and mistresses is\nnot only very often surprising, but even affecting. An instance of\nthis lately occurred at Brighton. The wife of a member of the town\ncouncil at that place had been an invalid for some time, and at last\nwas confined to her bed. During this period she was constantly\nattended by a faithful and affectionate dog, who either slept in her\nroom or outside her door. She died, was buried, and the dog followed\nthe remains of his beloved mistress to her grave. After the funeral\nthe husband and his friends returned to the house, and while they were\npartaking of some refreshment the dog put its paws on his master's\narm, as if to attract his attention, looked wistfully in his face, and\nthen laid down and instantly expired.\n\nIn giving miscellaneous anecdotes in order to show the general\ncharacter of the dog, I may mention the following very curious one.\n\nDuring a very severe frost and fall of snow in Scotland, the fowls did\nnot make their appearance at the hour when they usually retired to\nroost, and no one knew what had become of them; the house-dog at last\nentered the kitchen, having in his mouth a hen, apparently dead.\nForcing his way to the fire, the sagacious animal laid his charge down\nupon the warm hearth, and immediately set off. He soon came again with\nanother, which he deposited in the same place, and so continued till\nthe whole of the poor birds were rescued. Wandering about the\nstack-yard, the fowls had become quite benumbed by the extreme cold,\nand had crowded together, when the dog observing them, effected their\ndeliverance, for they all revived by the warmth of the fire.\n\nThat dogs possess a faculty nearly allied to reason cannot, I think,\nbe doubted. Mr. Davy, in his \"Angler in the Lake District,\" (a\ncharming work), gives one or two anecdotes in proof of this.\n\nWhen Mr. Davy was at Ceylon, the Governor of that Island, the late Sir\nRobert Brownrigg, had a dog of more than ordinary sagacity. He always\naccompanied his master, being allowed to do so, except on particular\noccasions, such as going to church or council, or to inspect his\ntroops, when the Governor usually wore his sword; but when the dog saw\nthe sword girded on, he would only follow to the outer door. Without a\nword being said, he would return and wait the coming back of his\nmaster, patiently remaining up-stairs at the door of his private\napartment. So it is with respect to my own pet terrier, Phiz. When he\nsees me putting on my walking-shoes, my great-coat, or hat, he is all\neagerness to accompany me, jumping about me and showing his joy. But\non Sundays it is very different. My shoes, great-coat or hat, may be\nput on, but he remains perfectly resigned on the rug before the fire,\nand never attempts or shows any inclination to follow me. Is the dog\nguided in acting thus by instinct or reason?\n\nLet me give another instance from Mr. Davy's work.\n\nOnce when he was fishing in the highlands of Scotland, he saw a party\nof sportsmen, with their dogs, cross the stream, the men wading, the\ndogs swimming, with the exception of one, who stopped on the bank\npiteously howling. After a few minutes he suddenly ceased, and started\noff full speed for a higher part of the stream. Mr. Davy was able to\nkeep him in view, and he did not stop till he came to a spot where a\nplank connected the banks, on which he crossed dry-footed, and soon\njoined his companions.\n\nDogs have sometimes strange fancies with respect to moving from one\nplace to another. A Fellow of a College at Cambridge had a dog, which\nsometimes took it into his head to visit his master's usual places of\nresort in London. He would then return to his home in Suffolk, and\nthen go to Cambridge, remaining at each place as long as he felt\ndisposed to do so, and going and returning with the most perfect\nindifference and complacency.\n\nThe extraordinary sense of a dog was shown in the following instance.\nA gentleman, residing near Pontypool, had his horse brought to his\nhouse by a servant. While the man went to the door, the horse ran away\nand made his escape to a neighbouring mountain. A dog belonging to the\nhouse saw this, and of his own accord followed the horse, got hold of\nthe bridle and brought him back to the door.\n\nI have been informed of two instances of dogs having slipped their\ncollars and put their heads into them again of their own accord, after\nhaving committed depredations in the night, and I have elsewhere\nmentioned the fact of a dog, now in my possession, who undid the\ncollar of another dog chained to a kennel near him. These are curious\ninstances of sense and sagacity.\n\nMr. Bell, in his \"History of British Quadrupeds,\" gives us the\nfollowing fact of a dog belonging to a friend of his. This gentleman\ndropped a louis d'or one morning, when he was on the point of leaving\nhis house. On returning late at night, he was told by his servant that\nthe dog had fallen sick, and refused to eat, and, what appeared very\nstrange, she would not suffer him to take her food away from before\nher, but had been lying with her nose close to the vessel, without\nattempting to touch it. On Mr. Bell's friend entering the room, the\ndog instantly jumped upon him, laid the money at his feet, and began\nto devour her victuals with great voracity.\n\nIt is a curious fact that dogs can count time. I had, when a boy, a\nfavourite terrier, which always went with me to church. My mother,\nthinking that he attracted too much of my attention, ordered the\nservant to fasten him up every Sunday morning. He did so once or\ntwice, but never afterwards. Trim concealed himself every Sunday\nmorning, and either met me as I entered the church, or I found him\nunder my seat in the pew. Mr. Southey, in his \"Omniana,\" informs us\nthat he knew of a dog, which was brought up by a Catholic and\nafterwards sold to a Protestant, but still he refused to eat anything\non a Friday.\n\nDogs have been known to die from excess of joy at seeing their masters\nafter a long absence. An English officer had a large dog, which he\nleft with his family in England, while he accompanied an expedition to\nAmerica during the war of the Colonies. Throughout his absence, the\nanimal appeared very much dejected. When the officer returned home,\nthe dog, who happened to be lying at the door of an apartment into\nwhich his master was about to enter, immediately recognised him, leapt\nupon his neck, licked his face, and in a few minutes fell dead at his\nfeet. A favourite spaniel of a lady recently died on seeing his\nbeloved mistress after a long absence.\n\nA gentleman who had a dog of a most endearing disposition, was obliged\nto go a journey periodically once a-month. His stay was short, and\nhis departure and return very regular, and without variation. The dog\nalways grew uneasy when he first lost his master, and moped in a\ncorner, but recovered himself gradually as the time for his return\napproached; which he knew to an hour, nay, to a minute. When he was\nconvinced that his master was on the road, at no great distance from\nhome, he flew all over the house; and if the street door happened to\nbe shut, he would suffer no servant to have any rest until it was\nopened. The moment he obtained his freedom away he went, and to a\ncertainty met his benefactor about two miles from town. He played and\nfrolicked about him till he had obtained one of his gloves, with which\nhe ran or rather flew home, entered the house, laid it down in the\nmiddle of the room, and danced round it. When he had sufficiently\namused himself in this manner, out of the house he flew, returned to\nmeet his master, and ran before him, or gambolled by his side, till he\narrived with him at home. \"I know not (says Mr. Dibdin, who relates\nthis anecdote), how frequently this was repeated; but it lasted till\nthe old gentleman grew infirm, and incapable of continuing his\njourneys. The dog by this time was also grown old, and became at\nlength blind; but this misfortune did not hinder him from fondling his\nmaster, whom he knew from every other person, and for whom his\naffection and solicitude rather increased than diminished. The old\ngentleman, after a short illness, died. The dog knew the\ncircumstance, watched the corpse, blind as he was, and did his utmost\nto prevent the undertaker from screwing up the body in the coffin, and\nmost outrageously opposed its being taken out of the house. Being past\nhope, he grew disconsolate, lost his flesh, and was evidently verging\ntowards his end. One day he heard a gentleman come into the house, and\nhe ran to meet him. His master being old and infirm, wore ribbed\nstockings for warmth. The gentleman had stockings on of the same kind.\nThe dog perceived it, and thought it was his master, and began to\nexhibit the most extravagant signs of pleasure; but upon further\nexamination finding his mistake, he retired into a corner, where in a\nshort time he expired.\"\n\nSome dogs are so faithful that they will never quit a thing entrusted\nto their charge, and will defend it to the utmost of their power. This\nmay be often observed in the case of a cur, lying on the coat of a\nlabourer while he is at work in the fields, and in those of carriers'\nand bakers' dogs. An instance is on record of a chimney-sweeper having\nplaced his soot-bag in the street under the care of his dog, who\nsuffered a cart to drive over and crush him to death, sooner than\nabandon his charge. Colonel Hamilton Smith, in the \"Cyclopaedia of\nNatural History,\" mentions a curious instance of fidelity and sagacity\nin a dog. He informs us that \"in the neighbourhood of Cupar, in the\ncounty of Fife, there lived two dogs, mortal enemies to each other,\nand who always fought desperately whenever they met. Capt. R---- was\nthe master of one of them, and the other belonged to a neighbouring\nfarmer. Capt. R----'s dog was in the practice of going messages, and\neven of bringing butchers' meat and other articles from Cupar. One\nday, while returning charged with a basket containing some pieces of\nmutton, he was attacked by some of the curs of the town, who, no\ndoubt, thought the prize worth contending for. The assault was fierce,\nand of some duration; but the messenger, after doing his utmost, was\nat last overpowered and compelled to yield up the basket, though not\nbefore he had secured a part of its contents. The piece saved from the\nwreck he ran off with, at full speed, to the quarters of his old\nenemy, at whose feet he laid it down, stretching himself beside it\ntill he had eaten it up. A few snuffs, a few whispers in the ear, and\nother dog-like courtesies, were then exchanged; after which they both\nset off together for Cupar, where they worried almost every dog in the\ntown; and, what is more remarkable, they never afterwards quarrelled,\nbut were always on friendly terms.\"\n\nThat society and culture soften and moderate the passions of dogs\ncannot be doubted, and they constantly imbibe feelings from those of\ntheir master. Thus, if he is a coward, his dog is generally found to\nbe one. Dogs are, however, in many respects, rational beings; and some\nproofs of this will be given in the present work. They will watch the\ncountenance of their master--they will understand words, which,\nthough addressed to others, they will apply to themselves, and act\naccordingly. Thus a dog, which, from its mangy state, was ordered to\nbe destroyed, took the first opportunity of quitting the ship, and\nwould never afterwards come near a sailor belonging to it. If I desire\nthe servant to wash a little terrier, who is apparently asleep at my\nfeet, he will quit the room, and hide himself for some hours. A dog,\nthough pressed with hunger, will never seize a piece of meat in\npresence of his master, though with his eyes, his movements, and his\nvoice, he will make the most humble and expressive petition. Is not\nthis reasoning?\n\nBut there is one faculty in the dog which would appear perfectly\nincomprehensible. It is the sense of smelling. He will not only scent\nvarious kinds of game at considerable distances, but he has been known\nto trace the odour of his master's feet through all the winding\nstreets of a populous city. This extreme sensibility is very\nwonderful. It would thus appear that the feelings of dogs are more\nexquisite than our own. They have sensations, but their faculty of\ncomparing them, or of forming ideas, is much circumscribed. A dog can\nimitate some human actions, and is capable of receiving a certain\ndegree of instruction; but his progress soon stops. It is, however, an\nanimal that should always be loved and treated with kindness. It is a\ncurious fact, that dogs who have had their ears and tails cut for\nmany generations, transmit these defects to their descendants.\nDrovers' dogs, which may always be seen with short tails, are a proof\nof this.\n\nA pleasing character of the dog is given in Smellie's \"Philosophy of\nNatural History.\" He says:--\n\n\"The natural sagacity and talents of the dog are well known, and\njustly celebrated. But when these are improved by association with\nman, and by education, he becomes, in some measure, a rational being.\nThe senses of the dog, particularly that of scenting distant objects,\ngive him a superiority over every other quadruped. He reigns at the\nhead of a flock; and his language, whether expressive of blandishment\nor of command, is better heard and better understood than the voice of\nhis master. Safety, order, and discipline, are the effects of his\nvigilance and activity. Sheep and cattle are his subjects. These he\nconducts and protects with prudence and bravery, and never employs\nforce against them except for the preservation of peace and good\norder. But when in pursuit of his prey, he makes a complete display of\nhis courage and intelligence. In this situation both natural and\nacquired talents are exerted. As soon as the horn or voice of the\nhunter is heard, the dog demonstrates his joy by the most expressive\nemotions and accents. By his movements and cries he announces his\nimpatience for combat, and his passion for victory. Sometimes he moves\nsilently along, reconnoitres the ground, and endeavours to discover\nand surprise the enemy. At other times he traces the animal's steps,\nand by different modulations of voice, and by the movements,\nparticularly of his tail, indicates the distance, the species, and\neven the age of the fugitive deer. All these movements and\nmodifications of voice are perfectly understood by experienced\nhunters. When he wishes to get into an apartment he comes to the door;\nif that is shut, he scratches with his foot, makes a bewailing noise,\nand, if his petition is not soon answered, he barks with a peculiar\nand humble voice. The shepherd's dog not only understands the language\nof his master, but, when too distant to be heard, he knows how to act\nby signals made with the hand.\"\n\nMr. Brockedon, in his \"Journal of Excursions in the Alps,\" says:--\"In\nthese valleys, the early hours of retirement placed us in the\ndifficult situation of fighting our way to the inn door at Lanslebourg\nagainst a magnificent Savoyard dog, who barked and howled defiance at\nour attempts, for which he stood some chance of being shot. At length\na man, hearing our threats, popped his head out of a window, and\nentreated our forbearance. We were soon admitted, and refreshments\namply provided. I had heard a story of a duel fought here from Mr.\nN----, in which he was a principal, about a dog; and upon inquiry\nlearnt that this was the same animal. A party of four young officers,\nreturning from Genoa, stopped here. Mr. N---- had brought with him a\nbeautiful little pet dog, which had been presented to him by a lady on\nhis leaving Genoa. Struck by the appearance of the fine dog at the\ninn, one of the officers bought it. He was fairly informed that the\ndog had been already sold to an Englishman, who had taken it as far as\nLyons, where the dog escaped, and returned (two hundred miles) to\nLanslebourg. The officer who made the purchase intended to fasten it\nin the same place with the little dog. This Mr. N---- objected to;\nwhen his brother-officer made some offensive allusions to the lady\nfrom whom the pet had been received. An apology was demanded, and\nrefused. Swords were instantly drawn; they fought in the room. Mr.\nN---- wounded and disarmed his antagonist; an apology for the\ninjurious reflections followed, and the party proceeded to England.\nThe dog was taken safely as far as Paris, where he again escaped, and\nreturned home (five hundred miles). I was now informed that the dog\nhad been sold a third time to an Englishman; and again, in spite of\nprecautions having been taken, he had returned to Lanslebourg from\nCalais.\"\n\nA Scotch grazier, named Archer, having lost his way, and being\nbenighted, at last got to a lone cottage; where, on his being\nadmitted, a dog which had left Archer's house four years before\nimmediately recognised him, fawned upon him, and when he retired for\nthe night followed him into the chamber where he was to lie, and\nthere, by his gestures, induced him narrowly to examine it; and then\nArcher saw sufficient to assure him that he was in the house of\nmurderers. Rendered desperate by the terrors of his situation, he\nburst into the room where the banditti were assembled, and wounded his\ninsidious host by a pistol-shot; and in the confusion which the sudden\nexplosion occasioned, he opened the door; and, notwithstanding he was\nfired at, accompanied by his dog Brutus, exerted all the speed which\ndanger could call forth until daylight, which enabled him to perceive\na house, and the main road, at no great distance. Upon his arrival at\nthe house, and telling the master of it his story, he called up some\nsoldiers that were there quartered, and who, by the aid of the dog,\nretraced the way back to the cottage. Upon examining the building a\ntrap-door was found, which opened into a place where, amongst the\nmangled remains of several persons, was the body of the owner, who had\nreceived the shot from the grazier's pistol in his neck; and although\nnot dead, had been, by the wretches his associates, in their quick\nretreat, thrown into this secret cemetery. He was, however, cured of\nhis wound, delivered up to justice, tried, and executed.[A]\n\nA merchant had received a large sum of money; and being fatigued with\nriding in the heat of the day, had retired to repose himself in the\nshade; and upon remounting his horse, had forgotten to take up the bag\nwhich contained the money. His dog tried to remind his master of his\ninadvertency by crying and barking, which so surprised the merchant,\nthat, in crossing a brook, he observed whether the dog drank, as he\nhad his suspicions of his being mad; and which were confirmed by the\ndog's not lapping any water, and by his increased barking and howling,\nand at length by his endeavouring to bite the heels of the horse.\nImpressed with the idea of the dog's madness, to prevent further\nmischief, he discharged his pistol at him, and the dog fell. After\nriding some distance with feelings that will arise in every generous\nbreast at the destruction of an affectionate animal, he discovered\nthat his money was missing. His mind was immediately struck that the\nactions of the dog, which his impetuosity had construed into madness,\nwere only efforts to remind him of his loss. He galloped back to where\nhe had fired his pistol; but the dog was gone from thence with equal\nexpedition to the spot where he had reposed. But what were the\nmerchant's feelings when he perceived his faithful dog, in the\nstruggles of death, lying by the side of the bag which had been\nforgotten! The dog tried to rise, but his strength was exhausted. He\nstretched out his tongue to lick the hand that was now fondling him\nwith all the agony of regret for the wound its rashness had inflicted,\nand casting a look of kindness on his master, closed his eyes for\never.[B]\n\nI am indebted to a well-known sportsman for the following interesting\naccount of some of his dogs. It affords another proof how much\nkindness will do in bringing out the instinctive faculties of these\nanimals; and that, when properly educated, their sense, courage, and\nattachment are most extraordinary.\n\n\"Smoaker was a deer greyhound of the largest size, but of his pedigree\nI know nothing. In speed he was equal to any hare greyhound; at the\nsame time, in spirit he was indomitable. He was the only dog I ever\nknew who was a match for a red stag, single-handed. From living\nconstantly in the drawing-room, and never being separated from me, he\nbecame acquainted with almost the meaning of every word--certainly of\nevery sign. His retrieving of game was equal to any of the retrieving\nI ever saw in any other dogs. He would leap over any of the most\ndangerous spikes at a sign, walk up and come down any ladder, and\ncatch, without hurting it, any particular fowl out of a number that\nwas pointed out to him. If he missed me from the drawing-room, and had\ndoubts about my being in the house, he would go into the hall and look\nfor my hat: if he found it, he would return contented; but if he did\nnot find it, he would proceed up-stairs to a window at the very top of\nthe house, and look from the window each way, to ascertain if I were\nin sight. One day in shooting at Cranford, with his late Royal\nHighness the Duke of York, a pheasant fell on the other side of the\nstream. The river was frozen over; but in crossing to fetch the\npheasant the ice broke, and let Smoaker in, to some inconvenience. He\npicked up the pheasant, and instead of trying the ice again, he took\nit many hundred yards round to the bridge. Smoaker died at the great\nage of eighteen years. His son Shark was also a beautiful dog. He was\nby Smoaker out of a common greyhound bitch, called Vagrant, who had\nwon a cup at Swaffham. Shark was not so powerful as Smoaker; but he\nwas, nevertheless, a large-sized dog, and was a first-rate deer\ngreyhound and retriever. He took his father's place on the rug, and\nwas inseparable from me. He was educated and entered at deer under\nSmoaker. When Shark was first admitted to the house, it chanced that\none day he and Smoaker were left alone in a room with a table on which\nluncheon was laid. Smoaker might have been left for hours with meat on\nthe table, and he would have died rather than have touched it; but at\nthat time Shark was not proof against temptation. I left the room to\nhand some lady to her carriage, and as I returned by the window, I\nlooked in. Shark was on his legs, smelling curiously round the table;\nwhilst Smoaker had risen to a sitting posture, his ears pricked, his\nbrow frowning, and his eyes intently fixed on his son's actions. After\ntasting several viands, Shark's long nose came in contact with about\nhalf a cold tongue; the morsel was too tempting to be withstood. For\nall the look of curious anger with which his father was intently\nwatching, the son stole the tongue and conveyed it to the floor. No\nsooner had he done so, than the offended sire rushed upon him, rolled\nhim over, beat him, and took away the tongue. Instead, though, of\nreplacing it on the table, the father contented himself with the\npunishment he had administered, and retired with great gravity to the\nfire.\n\n\"I was once waiting by moonlight for wild ducks on the Ouze in\nBedfordshire, and I killed a couple on the water at a shot. The\ncurrent was strong; but Shark, having fetched one of the birds, was\nwell aware there was another. Instead, therefore, of returning by\nwater to look for the second, he ran along the banks, as if aware that\nthe strong stream would have carried the bird further down; looking in\nthe water till he saw it, at least a hundred yards from the spot where\nhe had left it in bringing the first; when he also brought that to me.\nNothing could induce either of these dogs to fetch a glove or a stick:\nI have often seen game fall close to me, and they would not attempt to\ntouch it. It seemed as if they simply desired to be of service when\nservice was to be done; and that when there were no obstacles to be\nconquered, they had no wish to interfere. Shark died at a good old\nage, and was succeeded by his son Wolfe. Wolfe's mother was a\nNewfoundland bitch. He was also a large and powerful dog, but of\ncourse not so speedy as his ancestors. While residing at my country\nhouse, being my constant companion, Wolfe accompanied me two or three\ntimes a-day in the breeding season to feed the young pheasants and\npartridges reared under hens. On going near the coops, I put down my\ngun, made Wolfe a sign to sit down by it, and fed the birds, with\nsome caution, that they might not be in any way scared. I mention\nthis, because I am sure that dogs learn more from the manner and\nmethod of those they love, than they do from direct teaching. In front\nof the windows on the lawn there was a large bed of shrubs and\nflowers, into which the rabbits used to cross, and where I had often\nsent Wolfe in to drive them for me to shoot. One afternoon, thinking\nthat there might be a rabbit, I made Wolfe the usual sign to go and\ndrive the shrubs, which he obeyed; but ere he had gone some yards\nbeneath the bushes, I heard him make a peculiar noise with his jaws,\nwhich he always made when he saw anything he did not like, and he came\nsoftly back to me with a sheepish look. I repeated the sign, and\nencouraged him to go; but he never got beyond the spot he had been to\nin the first instance, and invariably returned to me with a very odd\nexpression of countenance. Curiosity tempted me to creep into the\nbushes to discover the cause of the dog's unwonted behaviour; when\nthere, I found, congregated under one of the shrubs, eight or nine of\nmy young pheasants, who had for the first time roosted at a distance\nfrom their coop. Wolfe had seen and known the young pheasants, and\nwould not scare them.\n\n\"Wolfe was the cause of my detecting and discharging one of my\ngamekeepers. I had forbidden my rabbits to be killed until my return;\nand the keeper was ordered simply to walk Wolfe to exercise on the\nfarm. There was a large stone quarry in the vicinity, where there\nwere a good many rabbits, some parts of which were so steep, that\nthough you might look over the cliff, and shoot a rabbit below,\nneither man nor dog could pick him up without going a considerable way\nround. On approaching the edge of the quarry to look over for a\nrabbit, I was surprised at missing Wolfe, who invariably stole off in\nanother direction, but always the same way. At last, on shooting a\nrabbit, I discovered that he invariably went to the only spot by which\nhe could descend to pick up whatever fell to the gun; and by this I\nfound that somebody had shot rabbits in his presence at times when I\nwas from home.\n\n\"Wolfe accompanied me to my residence in Hampshire, and there I\nnaturalised, in a wild state, some white rabbits. For the first year\nthe white ones were never permitted to be killed, and Wolfe saw that\nsuch was the case. One summer's afternoon I shot a white rabbit for\nthe first time, and Wolfe jumped the garden fence to pick the rabbit\nup; but his astonishment and odd sheepish look, when he found it was a\nwhite one, were curious in the extreme. He dropped his stern, made his\nusual snap with his jaws, and came back looking up in my face, as much\nas to say, 'You've made a mistake, and shot a white rabbit, but I've\nnot picked him up.' I was obliged to assure him that I intended to\nshoot it, and to encourage him before he would return and bring the\nrabbit to me. Wolfe died when he was about nine years old, and was\nsucceeded by my present favourite, Brenda, a hare greyhound of the\nhighest caste. Brenda won the Oak stakes of her year, and is a very\nfast and stout greyhound. I have taught her to retrieve game to the\ngun, to drive home the game from dangerous sands, and, in short, to do\neverything but speak; and this she attempts, by making a beautiful\nsort of bark when she wants her dinner.\n\n\"I have the lop-eared rabbit naturalised, and in a half-wild and wild\nstate, and Brenda is often to be seen with some of the tamest of them\nasleep in the sun on the lawn together. When the rabbits have been\ngoing out into a dangerous vicinity, late in the evening, I have often\nsent Brenda to drive them home, and to course and kill the wild ones\nif she could. I have seen one of the wild-bred lop-ears get up before\nher, and I have seen her make a start to course it; but when she saw\nthat it was not a native of the soil she would stop and continue her\nsearch for others. The next moment I have seen her course and kill a\nwild rabbit. She is perfectly steady from hare if I tell her not to\nrun, and is, without any exception, one of the prettiest and most\nuseful and engaging creatures ever seen. She is an excellent\nrat-killer also, and has an amazing antipathy to a cat. When I have\nbeen absent from home for some time, Mrs. B. has observed that she is\nalive to every sound of a wheel, and if the door-bell rings she is the\nfirst to fly to it. When walking on the sea-beach during my absence,\nshe is greatly interested in every boat she sees, and watches them\nwith the most intense anxiety, as in the yachting season she has known\nme return by sea. Brenda would take my part in a row, and she is a\ncapital house-dog. If ever the heart of a creature was given to man,\nthis beautiful, graceful, and clever animal has given me hers, for her\nwhole existence is either passed in watching for my return, or in\nseeking opportunities to please me when I am at home. It is a great\nmistake to suppose that severity of treatment is necessary to the\neducation of a dog, or that it is serviceable in making him steady.\nManner--_marked and impressive manner_--is that which teaches\nobedience, and example rather than command forms the desired\ncharacter.\n\n\"I had two foxhounds when I hunted stag,--my pack were all\nfoxhounds,--they were named Bachelor and Blunder. We used to play with\nthem together, and they got to know each other by name. In returning\nfrom hunting, my brother and myself used to amuse ourselves by saying,\nin a peculiar tone of voice,--the one we used to use in playing with\nthem--'Bachelor, where's Blunder?' On hearing this, Bachelor's stern\nand bristles rose, and he trotted about among the pack, looking for\nBlunder, and when he found him he would push his nose against his ear\nand growl at him. Thus Bachelor evidently knew Blunder by name, and\nthis arose from the way in which we used to play with them. At this\nmoment, when far away from home, and after an absence of many weeks,\nif I sing a particular song, which I always sing to a dog named\nJessie, Brenda, though staying in houses where she had never seen\nJessie, will get up much excited, and look to the door and out of the\nwindow in expectation of her friend. I have a great pleasure in the\nsociety of all animals, and I love to make my house a place where all\nmay meet in rest and good fellowship. This is far easier to achieve\nthan people would think for when dogs are kindly used, but impressed\nwith ideas of obedience.\n\n\"The gazelle which came home from Acre in the Thunderer, was one\nevening feeding from Mrs. B.'s plate at dessert, when Odion, the great\ndeerhound, who was beaten in my match against the five deer by an\nunlucky stab in the first course, came in by special invitation for\nhis biscuit. The last deer he had seen previous to the gazelle he had\ncoursed and pulled down. The strange expression of his dark face was\nbeautiful when he first saw her; and halting in his run up to me, he\nadvanced more slowly directly to her, she met him also in apparent\nwonder at his great size, and they smelled each others' faces. Odion\nthen kissed her, and came to me for his biscuit, and never after\nnoticed her. She will at times butt him if he takes up too much of the\nfire; but this she will not do to Brenda, except in play; and if she\nis eating from Mrs. Berkeley's hand, Brenda by a peculiar look can\nsend her away and take her place. Odion, the gazelle, Brenda, and the\nrabbits, will all quietly lay on the lawn together, and the gazelle\nand Bruiser, an immense house-dog between the bloodhound and mastiff,\nwill run and play together.\n\n\"I had forgotten to mention a bull-and-mastiff dog that I had, called\nGrumbo. He was previous to Smoaker, and was indeed the first\nfour-footed companion established in my confidence. I was then very\nyoung, and of course inclined to anything like a row. Grumbo,\ntherefore, was well entered in all kinds of strife--bulls, oxen, pigs,\nmen, dogs, all came in turn as combatants; and Grumbo had the oddest\nways of making men and animals the _aggressors_ I ever knew. He seemed\nto make it a point of honour never to begin, but on receiving a hint\nfrom me; some one of his enemies was sure to commence the battle, and\nthen he or both of us would turn to as an oppressed party. I have seen\nhim walk leisurely out into the middle of a field where oxen were\ngrazing, and then throw himself down. Either a bull or the oxen were\nsure to be attracted by the novel sight, and come dancing and blowing\nround him. All this he used to bear with the most stoical fortitude,\ntill some one more forward than the rest touched him with the horn.\n'War to the knife, and no favour,' was then the cry; and Grumbo had\none of them by the nose directly. He being engaged at odds, I of\ncourse made in to help him, and such a scene of confusion used to\nfollow as was scarce ever seen. Grumbo tossed in the air, and then\nsome beast pinned by the nose would lie down and bellow. I should all\nthis time be swinging round on to some of their tails, and so it would\ngo on till Grumbo and myself were tired and our enemies happy to beat\na retreat. If he wished to pick a quarrel with a man, he would walk\nlistlessly before him till the man trod on him, and then the row\nbegan. Grumbo was the best assistant, night or day, for catching\ndelinquents, in the world. As a proof of his thoughtful sagacity, I\ngive the following fact. He was my sole companion when I watched two\nmen steal a quantity of pheasants' eggs: we gave chase; but before I\ncould come near them, with two hundred yards start of me, they fled.\nThere was no hope of my overtaking them before they reached the\nvillage of Harlington, so I gave Grumbo the office. Off he went, but\nin the chase the men ran up a headland on which a cow was tethered.\nThey passed the cow; and when the dog came up to the cow he stopped,\nand, to my horror, contemplated a grab at the tempting nose. He was,\nhowever, uncertain as to whether or not this would be right, and he\nlooked back to me for further assurance. I made the sign to go ahead,\nand he understood it, for he took up the running again, and\ndisappeared down a narrow pathway leading through the orchards to the\nhouses. When I turned that corner, to my infinite delight I found him\nplaced in the narrow path, directly in front of one of the poachers,\nwith such an evident determination of purpose, that the man was\nstanding stock still, afraid to stir either hand or foot. I came up\nand secured the offender, and bade the dog be quiet.\"\n\nIt is, I believe, a fact, and if so, it is a curious one, that the dog\nin a wild state only howls; but when he becomes the friend and\ncompanion of man, he has then wants and wishes, hopes and fears, joys\nand sorrows, to which in his wilder state he appears to have been a\nstranger. His vocabulary, if it may be so called, then increases, in\norder to express his enlarged and varying emotions. He anticipates\nrewards and punishments, and learns to solicit the former and\ndeprecate the latter. He bounds exultingly forth to accompany his\nmaster in his walks, rides, and sports of the field. He acts as the\nfaithful guardian of his property. He is his fire-side companion,\nevidently discerns days of household mirth or grief, and deports\nhimself accordingly. Hence, his energies and his sensibilities are all\nexpanded, and what he feels he seeks to tell in various accents, and\nin different ways. For instance, our little dog comes and pulls his\nmistress's gown and makes significant whines, if any one is in or\nabout the premises whom he thinks has no right to be there. I have\nseen a dog pick up a stick and bring it in his mouth to his master,\nlooking at the water first and then at his master, evidently that the\nstick might be thrown into it, that he might have the pleasure of\nswimming after it. In my younger days, I was in the habit of teazing a\nfavourite dog by twitching his nose and pretending to pull his ears.\nHe would snap gently at me, but if, by accident, he gave me rather a\nharder bite than he had intended, he became instantly aware of it, and\nexpressed his regret in a way not to be mistaken. Dogs who have hurt\nor cut themselves will submit patiently while the wound is being\ndressed, however much the operation may hurt them. They become\ninstantly sensible that no punishment is intended to be inflicted, and\nI have seen them lick the hand of the operator, as if grateful for\nwhat he was doing. Those who are in the habit of having dogs\nconstantly in the room with them, will have perceived how alive they\nare to the slightest change in the countenance of their master; how\ngently they will touch him with their paw when he is eating, in order\nto remind him of their own want of food; and how readily they\ndistinguish the movements of any inmate of the house from those of a\nstranger. These, and many other circumstances which might be\nmentioned, show a marked distinction between a domesticated dog and\none that is wild, or who has lived with people who are in an\nuncivilized state, such as the Esquimaux, &c. Both the wild and\ndomestic dog, however, appear to be possessed of and to exercise\nforethought. They will bury or hide food, which they are unable to\nconsume at once, and return for it. But the domestic dog, perhaps,\ngives stronger proofs of forethought; and I will give an instance of\nit. A large metal pot, turned on one side, in which a great quantity\nof porridge had been boiled, was set before a Newfoundland puppy of\nthree or four months old. At first, he contented himself by licking\noff portions of the oatmeal which adhered to the interior, but finding\nthis unsatisfactory, he scraped the morsels with his fore-paws into a\nheap, and then ate the whole at once. I had a dog, who, having once\nscalded his tongue, always afterwards, when I gave him his milk and\nwater at breakfast, put his paw very cautiously into the saucer, to\nsee if the liquid was too hot, before he would touch it with his\ntongue.\n\nDogs have frequently been known to hunt in couples; that is, to assist\neach other in securing their prey: thus associating together and\nadmitting of no partnership.\n\nAt Palermo, in Sicily, there is an extraordinary quantity of dogs\nwandering about without owners. Amongst the number, two more\nparticularly distinguished themselves for their animosity to cats. One\nday they were in pursuit of a cat, which, seeing no other place of\nrefuge near, made her escape into a long earthen water-pipe which was\nlying on the ground. These two inseparable companions, who always\nsupported each other, pursued the cat to the pipe, where they were\nseen to stop, and apparently to consult each other as to what was to\nbe done to deceive and get possession of the poor cat. After they had\nstood a short time they divided, taking post at each end of the pipe,\nand began to back alternately, thus giving the cat reason to suppose\nthat they were both at one end, in order to induce her to come out.\nThis manoeuvre had a successful result, and the cheated cat left her\nhiding-place. Scarcely had she ventured out, when she was seized by\none of the dogs; the other hastened to his assistance, and in a few\nmoments deprived her of life.[C]\n\nThe memory of dogs is quite extraordinary, and only equalled by that\nof the elephant. Mr. Swainson, in his work on the instincts of\nanimals, gives the following proof of this. He says that \"A spaniel\nbelonging to the Rev. H. N., being always told that he must not follow\nhis master to church on Sundays, used on those days to set off long\nbefore the service, and lie concealed under the hedge, so near the\nchurch, that at length the point was yielded to him.\" My little\nparlour dog never offers to go with me on a Sunday, although on other\ndays he is perfectly wild to accompany me in my walks.\n\nIn my younger days I had a favourite dog, which always accompanied me\nto church. My mother, seeing that he attracted too much of my\nattention, ordered the servant to shut him every Sunday morning. This\nwas done once, but never afterwards; for he concealed himself early\nevery Sunday morning, and I was sure to find him either under my seat\nat church, or else at the church-door. That dogs clearly distinguish\nthe return of Sunday cannot be doubted.\n\nThe almost incredible penetration and expedition with which dogs are\nknown to return to their former homes, from places to which they have\nbeen sent, or carried in such a recluse way as not to retain a trace\nof the road, will ever continue to excite the greatest admiration.\n\nA dog having been given by a gentleman at Wivenhoe to the captain of a\ncollier, he took the dog on board his vessel, and landed him at\nSunderland; but soon after his arrival there the dog was missing, and\nin a very few days arrived at the residence of his old master, in\nEssex. A still more extraordinary circumstance is upon record, of the\nlate Colonel Hardy, who, having been sent for express to Bath, was\naccompanied by a favourite spaniel bitch in his chaise, which he never\nquitted till his arrival there. After remaining there four days, he\naccidentally left his spaniel behind him, and returned to his\nresidence at Springfield, in Essex, with equal expedition; where, in\nthree days after, his faithful and steady adherent arrived also,\nnotwithstanding the distance between that place and Bath is 140 miles,\nand she had to explore her way through London, to which she had never\nbeen, except in her passage to Bath, and then within the confines of a\nclose carriage.[D]\n\nIn the small town of Melbourne, in Derbyshire, cocks and hens may be\nseen running about the streets. One day a game cock attacked a small\nbantam, and they fought furiously, the bantam having, of course, the\nworst of it. Some persons were standing about looking at the fight,\nwhen my informant's house-dog suddenly darted out, snatched up the\nbantam in his mouth, and carried it into the house. Several of the\nspectators followed, believing that the poor fowl would be killed and\neaten by the dog; but his intentions were of a more benevolent nature.\nAfter guarding the entrance of the kennel for some time, he trotted\ndown the yard into the street, looked about to the right and left, and\nseeing that the coast was clear, he went back again, and once more\nreturning with his _protege_ in his mouth, safely deposited him in the\nstreet, and then walked quietly away. How few human beings would have\nacted as this dog had done!\n\nHere is another curious anecdote from Mr. Davy's work. He says that\nthe cook in the house of a friend of his, a lady on whose accuracy he\ncould rely, and from whom he had the anecdote, missed a marrow-bone.\nSuspicion fell on a well-behaved dog--a great favourite, and up to\nthat time distinguished for his honesty. He was charged with the\ntheft; he hung down his tail, and for a day or two was altered in his\nmanner, having become shy, sullen, and sheepish, to use these\nexpressions for want of better. In this mood he continued, till, to\nthe amusement of the cook, he brought back the bone and laid it at her\nfeet. Then, with the restoration of her stolen property, he resumed\nhis cheerful manner. How can we interpret this conduct of the dog,\nbetter than by supposing that he was aware he had done amiss, and that\nthe evil doing preyed on him till he had made restitution? Was not\nthis a kind of moral sense?\n\nIf a dog finds a bone while he is accompanying his master in a walk,\nhe does not stay behind to gnaw it, but runs some distance in\nadvance, attacks the bone, waits till his master comes up, and then\nproceeds forward again with it. By acting in this manner, he never\nloses sight of his master.\n\nA dog has been known to convey food to another of his species who was\ntied up and pining for want of it. A dog has frequently been seen to\nplunge voluntarily into a rapid stream, to rescue another that was in\ndanger of drowning. He has defended helpless curs from the attacks of\nother dogs, and learns to apportion punishment according to the\nprovocation received, frequently disdaining to exercise his power and\nstrength on a weaker adversary. Repeated provocation will, however,\nexcite and revenge. For instance, a Newfoundland dog was quietly\neating his mess of broth and broken scraps. While so employed, a\nturkey endeavoured to share the meal with him. The dog growled, and\ndisplayed his teeth. The intruder retired for a moment, but quickly\nreturned to the charge, and was again \"warned off,\" with a like\nresult. After three or four attempts of the same kind, the dog became\nprovoked, gave a sudden ferocious growl, bit off the delinquent's\nhead, and then quietly finished his meal, without bestowing any\nfurther attention on his victim.\n\nThe celebrated Leibnitz related to the French Academy an account of a\ndog he had seen which was taught to speak, and could call in an\nintelligible manner for tea, coffee, chocolate, &c.\n\nThe dog was of a middling size, and the property of a peasant in\nSaxony. A little boy, the peasant's son, imagined that he perceived in\nthe dog's voice an indistinct resemblance to certain words, and was,\ntherefore, determined to teach him to speak distinctly. For this\npurpose he spared neither time nor pains with his pupil, who was about\nthree years old when his learned education commenced; and at length he\nmade such progress in language, as to be able to articulate no less\nthan thirty words. It appears, however, that he was somewhat of a\ntruant, and did not very willingly exert his talents, being rather\npressed into the service of literature, and it was necessary that the\nwords should be first pronounced to him each time before he spoke. The\nFrench Academicians who mention this anecdote, add, that unless they\nhad received the testimony of so great a man as Leibnitz, they should\nscarcely have dared to relate the circumstance.\n\nAn invalid gentleman, who resided for some years on Ham Common, in\nSurrey, had a dog which distinctly pronounced John, William, and two\nor three other words. A medical friend of mine, who attended this\ngentleman, has frequently heard the animal utter these words; and a\nfemale relative of his, who was often on a visit at his house, assures\nme of the fact. Indeed it need not be doubted.\n\nThese are the only two instances I have met with of talking dogs, but\nmy brother had a beautiful little spaniel, named Doll, who was an\nindefatigable hunter after woodcocks and snipes. Doll would come home\nin the evening after a hard day's sport, wet, tired and dirty, and\nthen deposit herself on the rug before the fire. Happening one day to\npull her ear gently when in this state, she expressed her dislike to\nbe disturbed by a sort of singing noise. By repeating this from day to\nday, and saying \"Sing, Doll,\" she would utter notes of a somewhat\nmusical tone, and continue for some time after I had ceased to touch\nher ear, to the amusement and surprise of those who heard her. Poor\nDoll! I shall never see your like again, either for beauty or\nintelligence. If she was affronted she would come to me, at a distance\nof four miles, remain some time, and then return to her master.\n\nA small cur, blind of one eye, lame, ugly, old, and somewhat selfish,\nyet possessed of great shrewdness, was usually fed with three large\ndogs. Watching his opportunity, he generally contrived to seize the\nbest bit of offal or bone, with which he retreated into a recess, the\nopening to which was so small that he knew the other dogs could not\nfollow him into it, and where he enjoyed his repast without the fear\nof molestation.\n\nEarly habits predominate strongly in dogs, and indeed in other\nanimals. At the house of a gentleman in Wexford, out of four dogs kept\nto guard the premises, three of them would always wag their tails, and\nexpress what might be called civility, on the approach of any\nwell-dressed visitors; manifesting, on the other hand, no very\nfriendly feelings towards vagrants or ill-dressed people. The\nfourth,--a sort of fox-hound,--which, as a puppy, had belonged to a\npoor man, always seemed to recognise beggars and ill-dressed\npassengers as old familiar friends, growling at well-attired\nstrangers, barking vehemently at gigs, and becoming almost frantic\nwith rage at a four-wheeled carriage.\n\nThe olfactory nerves of a dog are quite extraordinary, and it is said\nthat, making allowance for difference of corporeal bulk, they are\nabout four times larger than those of a man. Some dogs, however, seem\nto excel in acuteness of hearing, and others in peculiar powers of\nvision.\n\nWe quote the following from the \"Percy Anecdotes:\"--\n\n\"One day, when Dumont, a tradesman of the Rue St. Denis, was walking\nin the Boulevard St. Antoine with a friend, he offered to lay a wager\nwith the latter, that if he were to hide a six-livre piece in the\ndust, his dog would discover and bring it to him. The wager was\naccepted, and the piece of money secreted, after being carefully\nmarked. When the two had proceeded some distance from the spot, M.\nDumont called to his dog that he had lost something, and ordered him\nto seek it. Caniche immediately turned back, and his master and his\ncompanion pursued their walk to the Rue St. Denis. Meanwhile a\ntraveller, who happened to be just then returning in a small chaise\nfrom Vincennes, perceived the piece of money, which his horse had\nkicked from its hiding-place; he alighted, took it up, and drove to\nhis inn, in the Rue Pont-aux-Choux. Caniche had just reached the spot\nin search of the lost piece when the stranger picked it up. He\nfollowed the chaise, went into the inn, and stuck close to the\ntraveller. Having scented out the coin which he had been ordered to\nbring back in the pocket of the latter, he leaped up incessantly at\nand about him. The traveller, supposing him to be some dog that had\nbeen lost or left behind by his master, regarded his different\nmovements as marks of fondness; and as the animal was handsome, he\ndetermined to keep him. He gave him a good supper, and on retiring to\nbed took him with him to his chamber. No sooner had he pulled off his\nbreeches, than they were seized by the dog; the owner conceiving that\nhe wanted to play with them, took them away again. The animal began to\nbark at the door, which the traveller opened, under the idea that the\ndog wanted to go out. Caniche snatched up the breeches, and away he\nflew. The traveller posted after him with his night-cap on, and\nliterally _sans culottes_. Anxiety for the fate of a purse full of\ngold Napoleons, of forty francs each, which was in one of the pockets,\ngave redoubled velocity to his steps. Caniche ran full speed to his\nmaster's house, where the stranger arrived a moment afterwards,\nbreathless and enraged. He accused the dog of robbing him. 'Sir,' said\nthe master, 'my dog is a very faithful creature; and if he has run\naway with your breeches, it is because you have in them money which\ndoes not belong to you.' The traveller became still more exasperated.\n'Compose yourself, sir,' rejoined the other, smiling; 'without doubt\nthere is in your purse a six-livre piece, with such and such marks,\nwhich you have picked up in the Boulevard St. Antoine, and which I\nthrew down there with the firm conviction that my dog would bring it\nback again. This is the cause of the robbery which he has committed\nupon you.' The stranger's rage now yielded to astonishment; he\ndelivered the six-livre piece to the owner, and could not forbear\ncaressing the dog which had given him so much uneasiness, and such an\nunpleasant chase.\"\n\nA gentleman in Cornwall possessed a dog, which seemed to set a value\non white and shining pebble stones, of which he had made a large\ncollection in a hole under an old tree. A dog in Regent Street is said\nto have barked with joy on hearing the wheels of his master's carriage\ndriven to the door, when he could not by any possibility see the\nvehicle, and while many other carriages were at the time passing and\nrepassing. This, I believe, is a fact by no means uncommon.\n\nMy retriever will carry an egg in his mouth to a great distance, and\nduring a considerable length of time, without ever breaking or even\ncracking the shell. A small bird having escaped from its cage and\nfallen into the sea, a dog conveyed it in his mouth to the ship,\nwithout doing it the slightest injury.\n\n[Illustration: RETRIEVER.]\n\nOne of the carriers of a New York paper called the \"Advocate,\" having\nbecome indisposed, his son took his place; but not knowing the\nsubscribers he was to supply, he took for his guide a dog which had\nusually attended his father. The animal trotted on a-head of the boy,\nand stopped at every door where the paper was in use to be left,\nwithout making a single omission or mistake.\n\nThe following is from a newspaper of this year:--\n\n\"A most extraordinary circumstance has just occurred at the Hawick\ntoll-bar, which is kept by two old women. It appears that they had a\nsum of money in the house, and were extremely alarmed lest they should\nbe robbed of it. Their fears prevailed to such an extent, that, when a\ncarrier whom they knew was passing by, they urgently requested him to\nremain with them all night, which, however, his duties would not\npermit him to do; but, in consideration of the alarm of the women, he\nconsented to leave with them a large mastiff dog. In the night the\nwomen were disturbed by the uneasiness of the dog, and heard a noise\napparently like an attempt to force an entrance into the premises,\nupon which they escaped by the back-door, and ran to a neighbouring\nhouse, which happened to be a blacksmith's shop. They knocked at the\ndoor, and were answered from within by the smith's wife. She said her\nhusband was absent, but that she was willing to accompany the\nterrified women to their home. On reaching the house, they heard a\nsavage but half-stifled growling from the dog. On entering they saw\nthe body of a man hanging half in and half out of their little window,\nwhom the dog had seized by the throat, and was still worrying. On\nexamination, the man proved to be their neighbour the blacksmith,\ndreadfully torn about the throat, and quite dead.\"\n\nA dog, belonging to the late Dr. Robert Hooper, had been in the\nconstant habit of performing various little personal services for his\nmaster, such as fetching his slippers, &c. It happened one day that\nDr. Hooper had been detained by his professional duties much beyond\nhis usual dinner hour. The dog impatiently waited for his arrival, and\nhe at last returned, weary and hungry. After showing his pleasure at\nthe arrival of his master, greeting him with his usual attention, the\nanimal remained tolerably quiet until he conceived a reasonable time\nhad elapsed for the preparation of the Doctor's dinner. As it did not,\nhowever, make its appearance, the dog went into the kitchen, seized\nwith his mouth a half-broiled beefsteak, with which he hastened back\nto his master, placing it on the table-cloth before him.\n\nA few years ago, the public were amused with an account given in the\nnewspapers of a dog which possessed the strange fancy of attending all\nthe fires that occurred in the metropolis. The discovery of this\npredilection was made by a gentleman residing a few miles from town,\nwho was called up in the middle of the night by the intelligence that\nthe premises adjoining his house of business were on fire. \"The\nremoval of my books and papers,\" said he, in telling the story, \"of\ncourse claimed my attention; yet, notwithstanding this, and the bustle\nwhich prevailed, my eye every now and then rested on a dog, which,\nduring the hottest progress of the conflagration, I could not help\nnoticing running about, and apparently taking a deep interest in what\nwas going on; contriving to keep himself out of everybody's way, and\nyet always present amidst the thickest of the stir. When the fire was\ngot under, and I had leisure to look about me, I again observed the\ndog, which, with the firemen, appeared to be resting from the fatigues\nof duty, and was led to make some inquiries respecting him. 'Is this\nyour dog, my friend?' said I to a fireman. 'No, sir,' answered he; it\ndoes not belong to me, or to any one in particular. We call him the\nfiremen's dog.' 'The firemen's dog!' I replied. 'Why so? Has he no\nmaster?' 'No, sir,' rejoined the fireman; 'he calls none of us master,\nthough we are all of us willing enough to give him a night's lodging\nand a pennyworth of meat. But he won't stay long with any of us. His\ndelight is to be at all the fires in London; and, far or near, we\ngenerally find him on the road as we are going along, and sometimes,\nif it is out of town, we give him a lift. I don't think there has been\na fire for these two or three years past which he has not been at.'\n\n\"The communication was so extraordinary, that I found it difficult to\nbelieve the story, until it was confirmed by the concurrent testimony\nof several other firemen. None of them, however, were able to give any\naccount of the early habits of the dog, or to offer any explanation of\nthe circumstances which led to this singular propensity.\n\n\"Some time afterwards, I was again called up in the night to a fire in\nthe village in which I resided (Camberwell, in Surrey), and to my\nsurprise here I again met with 'the firemen's dog,' still alive and\nwell, pursuing, with the same apparent interest and satisfaction, the\nexhibition of that which seldom fails to bring with it disaster and\nmisfortune, oftentimes loss of life and ruin. Still, he called no man\nmaster, disdained to receive bed or board from the same hand more than\na night or two at a time, nor could the firemen trace out his\nresting-place.\"\n\nSuch was the account of this interesting animal as it appeared in the\nnewspapers, to which were shortly afterwards appended several\ncircumstances communicated by a fireman at one of the police offices.\nA magistrate having asked him whether it was a fact that the dog was\npresent at most of the fires that occurred in the metropolis, the\nfireman replied that he never knew \"Tyke,\" as he was called, to be\nabsent from a fire upon any occasion that he (the fireman) attended\nhimself. The magistrate said the dog must have an extraordinary\npredilection for fires. He then asked what length of time he had been\nknown to possess that propensity. The fireman replied that he knew\nTyke for the last nine years; and although he was getting old, yet the\nmoment the engines were about, Tyke was to be seen as active as ever,\nrunning off in the direction of the fire. The magistrate inquired\nwhether the dog lived with any particular fireman. The fireman replied\nthat Tyke liked one fireman as well as another; he had no particular\nfavourites, but passed his time amongst them, sometimes going to the\nhouse of one, and then to another, and off to a third when he was\ntired. Day or night, it was all the same to him; if a fire broke out,\nthere he was in the midst of the bustle, running from one engine to\nanother, anxiously looking after the firemen; and, although pressed\nupon by crowds, yet, from his dexterity, he always escaped accidents,\nonly now and then getting a ducking from the engines, which he rather\nliked than otherwise. The magistrate said that Tyke was a most\nextraordinary animal; and having expressed a wish to see him, he was\nshortly after exhibited at the office, and some other peculiarities\nrespecting him were related. There was nothing at all particular in\nthe appearance of the dog; he was a rough-looking small animal, of the\nterrier breed, and seemed to be in excellent condition, no doubt from\nthe care taken of him by the firemen belonging to the different\ncompanies. There was some difficulty experienced in bringing him to\nthe office, as he did not much relish going any distance from where\nthe firemen are usually to be found, except in cases of attending with\nthem at a conflagration, and then distance was of no consequence. It\nwas found necessary to use stratagem for the purpose. A fireman\ncommenced running. Tyke, accustomed to follow upon such occasions, set\nout after him; but this person, having slackened his pace on the way,\nthe sagacious animal, knowing there was no fire, turned back, and it\nwas necessary to carry him to the office.\n\nThe following striking anecdote, of a similar kind, appeared in the\nfirst number of the new issue of Cassell's \"Illustrated Family\nPaper.\" After giving a short account of a fire-escape man, named\nSamuel Wood, the writer thus alludes to his dog Bill:--\n\n\"As to Bill, he regards him evidently in the light of a friend; he had\nhim when he was a pup from a poor fellow who died in the service, and\nhe and his 'Bill' have been on excellent terms ever since.\n\n\"The fire-escape man's dog takes after his master in courage and\nperseverance. He is of the terrier breed, six years old. An alarm of\nfire calls forth all his energy. He is the first to know that\nsomething is wrong--the first to exert himself in setting it right. He\nhas not been trained to the work--'it is a gift,' as his master says;\nand if we all used our gifts as efficiently as the dog Bill, it would\nbe the better for us. On an alarm of fire Bill barks his loudest,\ndashes about in a frantic manner, till his master and the escape are\non their way to it. He, of course, is there first, giving the police\nand the crowd to understand that Wood and his fire-escape are coming.\nWhen the escape is fixed, and Wood begins to ascend the ladder, Bill\nruns up the canvas; as soon as a window is opened, Bill leaps in and\ndashes about to find the occupants, loudly barking for assistance as\nsoon as he has accomplished his errand of mercy. His watchfulness and\nsagacity are never at fault, although on more than one occasion he has\nstood a fair chance of losing his life, and has sustained very severe\ninjury. Not long ago a collar was presented to Bill as a reward for\nhis services; unfortunately for him, he has since lost this token of\npublic regard--a misfortune much to be regretted. The following verse\nwas engraved on the collar:--\n\n    'I am the fire-escape man's dog: my name is Bill.\n    When 'fire' is called I am never still:\n    I bark for my master, all danger brave,\n    To bring the escape--human life to save.'\n\nCollared or collarless, Bill is always ready to lend a helping bark.\nMay his life be long, and his services properly esteemed!\"\n\nThe following anecdote shows extraordinary sense, if not reasoning\nfaculty, in a dog:--\n\nA lady of high rank has a sort of colley, or Scotch sheep-dog. When he\nis ordered to ring the bell, he does so; but if he is told to ring the\nbell when the servant is in the room whose duty it is to attend, he\nrefuses, and then the following occurrence takes place. His mistress\nsays, \"Ring the bell, dog.\" The dog looks at the servant, and then\nbarks his bow wow, once or twice. The order is repeated two or three\ntimes. At last the dog lays hold of the servant's coat in a\nsignificant manner, just as if he had said to him--\"Don't you hear\nthat I am to ring the bell for you?--come to my lady.\" His mistress\nalways had her shoes warmed before she put them on, but one day during\nthe hot weather her maid was putting them on without their having been\npreviously placed before the fire. When the dog saw this he\nimmediately interfered, expressing the greatest indignation at the\nmaid's negligence. He took the shoes from her, carried them to the\nfire, and after they had been warmed as usual, he brought them back to\nhis mistress with much apparent satisfaction, evidently intending to\nsay, if he could, \"It is all right now.\"\n\nThe dispositions and characters of dogs, as well as their\nintelligence, vary very much. Let me give a few instances of this.\n\nWhen that benevolent man, Mr. Backhouse, went to Australia, in hopes\nof doing good among the convicts, he was residing in the house of a\ngentleman who had a son about four years of age. This boy strayed one\nmorning into the bush, and could not be found after a long search had\nbeen made for him. In the evening a little dog, which had accompanied\nthe child, scratched at the door, and on its being opened showed\nunmistakeable signs of wishing to be followed. This was done; and he\nled the way to the child, who was at last found sitting by the side of\na river three or four miles from the house.\n\nAt Albany in Worcestershire, at the seat of Admiral Maling, a dog went\nevery day to meet the mail, and brought the bag in his mouth to the\nhouse. The distance was about a half-a-quarter of a mile. The dog\nusually received a meal of meat as his reward. The servants having, on\n_one day only_, neglected to give him his accustomed meal, the dog on\nthe arrival of the next mail buried the bag, nor was it found without\nconsiderable search.\n\nM. D'Obsonville had a dog which he had brought up in India from two\nmonths old; and having to go with a friend from Pondicherry to\nBengalore, a distance of more than nine hundred miles, he took the\nanimal along with him. \"Our journey,\" says M. D'O., \"occupied nearly\nthree weeks; and we had to traverse plains and mountains, and to ford\nrivers, and go along by-paths. The animal, which had certainly never\nbeen in that country before, lost us at Bengalore, and immediately\nreturned to Pondicherry. He went directly to the house of my friend,\nM. Beglier, then commandant of artillery, and with whom I had\ngenerally lived. Now the difficulty is not so much to know how the dog\nsubsisted on the road (for he was very strong, and able to procure\nhimself food), but how he should so well have found his way after an\ninterval of more than a month! This was an effort of memory greatly\nsuperior to that which the human race is capable of exerting.\"\n\nA gentleman residing in Denmark, Mr. Decouick, one of the king's privy\ncouncillors, found that he had a remarkable dog. It was the habit of\nMr. Decouick to leave Copenhagen on Fridays for Drovengourd, his\ncountry seat. If he did not arrive there on the Friday evening, the\ndog would invariably be found at Copenhagen on Saturday morning, in\nsearch of his master. Hydrophobia becoming common, all dogs were shot\nthat were found running about, an exception being made in the case of\nMr. Decouick's dog on account of his sagacity and fidelity, a\ndistinctive mark being placed upon him.\n\nThe following anecdotes are from Daniel's \"Rural Sports:\"--\n\nUpon the fidelity of dogs, the following facts deserve to be here\nrecorded: of this property, or other peculiar traits, if they\nappertain to any class of sporting dogs, in that class they will be\nnoticed.\n\nDr. Beattie, in one of his ingenious and elegant essays, relates a\nstory, in his own knowledge, of a gentleman's life being saved, who\nfell beneath the ice, by his dog's going in quest of assistance, and\nalmost forcibly dragging a farmer to the spot.\n\nMr. Vaillant describes the losing of a bitch while travelling in\nAfrica, when after firing his gun, and fruitlessly searching for her,\nhe despatched one of his attendants, to return by the way they had\nproceeded; when she was found at about two leagues' distance, seated\nby the side of a chair and basket, which had dropped unperceived from\nhis waggon: an instance of attentive fidelity, which must have proved\nfatal to the animal, either from hunger or beasts of prey, had she not\nbeen luckily discovered.\n\nAs instances of the dog's sagacity, the following are submitted. In\ncrossing the mountain St. Gothard, near Airola, the Chevalier Gaspard\nde Brandenberg and his servant were buried by an avalanche; his dog,\nwho escaped the heap of snow, did not quit the place where he had lost\nhis master: this was, fortunately, not far from the convent; the\nanimal howled, ran to the convent frequently, and then returned.\nStruck by his perseverance, the next morning the people from the house\nfollowed him; he led them directly to the spot, scratched the snow,\nand after thirty-six hours passed beneath it, the chevalier and his\ndomestic were taken out safe, hearing distinctly during their\nconfinement the howling of the dog and the discourse of their\ndeliverers. Sensible that to the sagacity and fondness of this\ncreature he owed his life, the gentleman ordered by his will that he\nshould be represented on his tomb with his dog; and at Zug, in the\nchurch of St. Oswald, where he was buried in 1728, they still show the\nmonument and the effigy of this gentleman, with the dog lying at his\nfeet.\n\nIn 1792, a gentleman, who lived in Vere Street, Clare Market, went\nwith his family to the pit of Drury Lane Theatre, at about half-past\nfive in the evening, leaving a small spaniel, of King Charles's breed,\nlocked up in the dining-room, to prevent the dog from being lost in\nhis absence. At eight o'clock his son opened the door, and the dog\nimmediately went to the playhouse and found out his master, though the\npit was unusually thronged, and his master seated near its centre.\n\nA large dog of Mr. Hilson's, of Maxwelhaugh, on the 21st of October,\n1797, seeing a small one that was following a cart from Kelso carried\nby the current of the Tweed, in spite of all its efforts to bear up\nagainst the stream, after watching its motions attentively, plunged\nvoluntarily into the river, and seizing the tired animal by the neck,\nbrought it safely to land.\n\nThe docility of the dog is such, that he may be taught to practise\nwith considerable dexterity a variety of human actions: to open a door\nfastened by a latch, and pull a bell when desirous to be admitted.\nFaber mentions one belonging to a nobleman of the Medici family, which\nalways attended at its master's table, took from him his plates, and\nbrought him others; carried wine to him in a glass upon a salver,\nwhich it held in its mouth, without spilling; the same dog would also\nhold the stirrup in its teeth while its master was mounting his horse.\nMr. Daniel had formerly a spaniel, which he gave the honourable Mr.\nGreville, that, beyond the common tricks which dogs trained to fetch\nand carry exhibit, would bring the bottles of wine from the corner of\nthe room to the table by the neck, with such care as never to break\none; and, in fact, was the _boots_ of the mess-room.\n\nSome few years since, the person who lived at the turnpike-house,\nabout a mile from Stratford-upon-Avon, had trained a dog to go to the\ntown for any small parcels of grocery, &c. which he wanted. A note,\nmentioning the things required, was tied round his neck, and in the\nsame manner the articles were fastened, and arrived safe to his\nmaster.\n\nColonel Hutchinson relates the following anecdote:--\n\n\"A cousin of one of my brother-officers was taking a walk at Tunbridge\nWells, when a strange Newfoundland snatched her parasol from her hand,\nand carried it off. The lady followed the dog, who kept ahead,\nconstantly looking back to see if she followed. The dog at length\nstopped at a confectioner's, and went in, followed by the lady, who,\nas the dog would not resign it, applied to the shopman for assistance.\nHe then told her that it was an old trick of the dog's to get a bun,\nand that if she would give him one he would return the property. She\ncheerfully did so, and the dog as willingly made the exchange.\"\n\nThe above anecdote proves that dogs are no mean observers of\ncountenances, and that he had satisfied himself by a previous scrutiny\nas to the probability of his delinquencies being forgiven.\n\nOf the abstinence and escape of a dog, the following narrative may not\nbe uninteresting:--\n\nIn 1789, when preparations were making at St. Paul's for the reception\nof his majesty, a favourite dog followed its master up the dark stairs\nof the dome. Here, all at once, it was missing; and calling and\nwhistling were to no purpose. Nine weeks after this, all but two days,\nsome glaziers were at work in the cathedral, and heard a faint noise\namongst the timbers which support the dome. Thinking it might be some\nunfortunate human being, they tied a rope round a boy, and let him\ndown near the place whence the sound came. At the bottom he found a\ndog lying on its side, the skeleton of another dog, and an old shoe\nhalf eaten. The humanity of the boy led him to rescue the animal from\nits miserable situation, and it was accordingly drawn up. Much\nemaciated, and scarce able to stand, the workmen placed it in the\nporch of the church, to die or live as it might happen. This was about\nten o'clock in the morning. Some time after, the dog was seen\nendeavouring to cross the street at the top of Ludgate Hill; but its\nweakness was so great, that, unsupported by a wall, it could not\naccomplish it. The miserable appearance of the dog again excited the\ncompassion of a boy, who carried it over. By the aid of the houses it\nwas enabled to get to Fleet Market, and over two or three narrow\ncrossings in its way to Holborn Bridge, and about eight o'clock in the\nevening it reached its master's house in Red Lion Street, Holborn, and\nlaid itself down on the steps, having been ten hours in its journey\nfrom St. Paul's to that place. The dog was so much altered, its eyes\nbeing so sunk in its head as to be scarce discernible, that the master\nwould not encourage his faithful old companion, who when lost was\nsupposed to weigh twenty pounds, but now only weighed three pounds\nfourteen ounces. The first indication it gave of knowing its master\nwas by wagging its tail when he mentioned its name, Phillis; for a\nlong time it was unable to eat or drink, and it was kept alive by the\nsustenance it received from its mistress, who used to feed it with a\nteaspoon. At length it recovered. It must not be supposed that this\nanimal existed for nine weeks without food; she was in whelp when\nlost, and doubtless ate her young. The remains of another dog, killed\nby a similar fall, were likewise found, and were most probably\nconverted by the survivor to the most urgent of all natural purposes;\nand when this treat was done, the shoe succeeded, which was almost\nhalf devoured. What famine and a thousand accidents could not do, was\neffected a short time after by the wheels of a coach, which\nunfortunately went over her, and ended the life of poor Phillis.\n\nOf dogs that have supported themselves in a wild state, to the great\nloss and annoyance of the farmer, there are two instances worthy of\nnotice, from the cunning with which both these dogs frustrated, for a\nlength of time, every secret and open attack. In December, 1784, a dog\nwas left by a smuggling vessel near Boomer, on the coast of\nNorthumberland. Finding himself deserted, he began to worry sheep, and\ndid so much damage that he was the terror of the country, within the\ncircuit of above twenty miles. It is asserted, that when he caught a\nsheep, he bit a hole in its right side, and after eating the fat about\nthe kidneys, left it. Several of them, thus lacerated, were found\nalive by the shepherds; and being properly taken care of, some of them\nrecovered, and afterwards had lambs. From this delicacy of his\nfeeding, the destruction may in some measure be conceived, as the fat\nof one sheep in a day would scarcely satisfy his hunger. Various were\nthe means used to destroy him: frequently was he pursued with hounds,\ngreyhounds, &c., but when the dogs came up with him, he laid down on\nhis back, as if supplicating for mercy, and in that position they\nnever hurt him; he therefore laid quietly, taking his rest, until the\nhunters approached, when he made off without being followed by the\nhounds, until they were again excited to the pursuit, which always\nterminated unsuccessfully. He was one day pursued from Howick to\nupwards of thirty miles' distance, but returned thither and killed\nsheep the same evening. His constant residence was upon a rock on the\nHeugh Hill, near Howick, where he had a view of four roads that\napproached it; and there, in March 1785, after many fruitless\nattempts, he was at last shot.\n\nAnother wild dog, which had committed similar devastation among the\nsheep, near Wooler, in the same county (Northumberland), was, on the\n6th of June, 1799, advertised to be hunted on the Wednesday following,\nby three packs of hounds, which were to meet at different places; the\naid of men and fire-arms was also requested, with a reward promised of\ntwenty guineas to the person killing him. This dog was described by\nthose who had seen him at a distance as a large greyhound, with some\nwhite in his face, neck and one fore-leg white, rather grey on the\nback, and the rest of a jet-black. An immense concourse of people\nassembled at the time appointed, but the chase was unprosperous; for\nhe eluded his pursuers among the Cheviot Hills, and, what is singular,\nreturned that same night to the place from whence he had been hunted\nin the morning, and worried an ewe and her lamb. During the whole\nsummer he continued to destroy the sheep, but changed his quarters,\nfor he infested the fells, sixteen miles south of Carlisle, where\nupwards of sixty sheep fell victims to his ferocity. In September,\nhounds and firearms were again employed against him, and after a run\nfrom Carrock Fell, which was computed to be thirty miles, he was shot\nwhilst the hounds were in pursuit by Mr. Sewel of Wedlock, who laid in\nambush at Moss Dale. During the chase, which occupied six hours, he\nfrequently turned upon the headmost hounds, and wounded several so\nbadly as to disable them. Upon examination, he appeared of the\nNewfoundland breed, of a common size, wire-haired, and extremely lean.\nThis description does not tally with the dog so injurious to the\nfarmers in Northumberland, although, from circumstances, there is\nlittle doubt but it was the same animal.\n\nWith a laughably philosophical account of dogs, under the supposition\nof a transmigration of souls, and with their general natural history\nfrom Linnaeus and Buffon, this introductory chapter will be concluded.\n\nA facetious believer in the art of distinguishing at the sight of any\ncreature from what class of animals his soul is derived, thus allots\nthem:--\n\nThe souls of deceased bailiffs and common constables are in the\nbodies of setting dogs and pointers; the terriers are inhabited by\ntrading justices; the bloodhounds were formerly a set of informers,\nthief-takers, and false evidences; the spaniels were heretofore\ncourtiers, hangers-on of administrations, and hack journal-writers,\nall of whom preserve their primitive qualities of fawning on their\nfeeders, licking their hands, and snarling and snapping at all who\noffer to offend their master; a former train of gamblers and\nblack-legs are now embodied in that species of dog called lurchers;\nbull-dogs and mastiffs were once butchers and drovers; greyhounds and\nhounds owe their animation to country squires and foxhunters; little\nwhiffling, useless lap-dogs, draw their existence from the quondam\nbeau; macaronies, and gentlemen of the tippy, still being the\nplaythings of ladies, and used for their diversion. There are also a\nset of sad dogs derived from attornies; and puppies, who were in past\ntime attornies' clerks, shopmen to retail haberdashers, men-milliners,\n&c. &c. Turnspits are animated by old aldermen, who still enjoy the\nsmell of the roast meat; that droning, snarling species, styled Dutch\npugs, have been fellows of colleges; and that faithful, useful tribe\nof shepherds' dogs, were, in days of yore, members of parliament, who\nguarded the flock, and protected the sheep from wolves and thieves,\nalthough indeed of late some have turned sheep-biters, and worried\nthose they ought to have defended.\n\nLinnaeus informs us, the dog eats flesh, and farinaceous vegetables,\nbut not greens, (this is a mistake, for they will eat greens when\nboiled); its stomach digests bones; it uses the tops of grass as a\nvomit; is fond of rolling in carrion; voids its excrements on a stone;\nits dung (the _album graecum_) is one of the greatest encouragers of\nputrefaction; it laps up its drink with its tongue; makes water\nside-ways, by lifting up one of its hind-legs; is most diuretic in the\ncompany of a strange dog, and very apt to repeat it where another dog\nhas done the same: _Odorat anum alterius, menstruans catulit cum\nvariis; mordet illa illos; cohaeret copula junctus_. Its scent is most\nexquisite when its nose is moist; it treads lightly on its toes;\nscarce ever sweats, but when hot, lolls out its tongue; generally\nwalks frequently round the place it intends to lie down on; its sense\nof hearing is very quick when asleep; it dreams. It goes with young\nsixty-three days, and commonly brings from four to ten; the male\npuppies resemble the dog, the female the bitch (an assertion by no\nmeans accurate, any more than the tail always bending to the left is a\ncommon character of the species). It is the most faithful of animals,\nis very docile, fawns at his master's approach, runs before him on a\njourney, often passing over the same ground; on coming to crossways,\nstops and looks back; drives cattle home from the field; keeps herds\nand flocks within bounds, protects them from wild beasts; points out\nto the sportsman the game; brings the birds that are shot to its\nmaster; will turn a spit; at Brussels, and in Holland, draws little\ncarts to the herb-market; in more northern regions, draws sledges with\nprovisions, travellers, &c.; will find out what is dropped; watchful\nby night, and when the charge of a house or garden is at such times\ncommitted to him, his boldness increases, and he sometimes becomes\nperfectly ferocious; when it has been guilty of a theft, slinks away\nwith its tail between its legs; eats voraciously, with oblique eyes;\nenemy to beggars; attacks strangers without provocation; hates strange\ndogs; howls at certain notes in music, and often urines on hearing\nthem; will snap at a stone thrown at it; is sick at the approach of\nbad weather, (a remark vague and uncertain); is afflicted with worms;\nspreads its madness; grows blind with age; _saepe gonorrhaea infectus_;\ndriven as unclean from the houses of the Mahometans; yet the same\npeople establish hospitals for, and allow them daily food.\n\nThe dog, says Buffon, like every other animal which produces above one\nor two at a time, is not perfectly formed immediately after birth.\nDogs are always brought forth blind; the two eyelids are not simply\nglued together, but shut up with a membrane, which is torn off, as\nsoon as the muscles of the upper eyelids acquire strength sufficient\nto overcome this obstacle to vision, which generally happens the tenth\nor twelfth day. At this period, the bones of the head are not\ncompleted, the body and muzzle are bloated, and the whole figure is\nill defined; but in less than two months, they learn to use all their\nsenses; their growth is rapid, and they soon gain strength. In the\nfourth month, they lose some of their teeth, which, as in other\nanimals, are soon replaced, and never again fall out: they have six\ncutting and two canine teeth in each jaw, and fourteen grinders in the\nupper, and twelve in the under, making in all forty-two teeth; but the\nnumber of grinders sometimes varies in particular dogs.\n\nThe time of gestation is nine weeks, or sixty-three days; sometimes\nsixty-two or sixty-one, but never less than sixty.\n\nThe bitch produces six, seven, and even so far as twelve puppies, and\ngenerally has more at the subsequent litters than she has at the\nfirst; but the observation of Buffon, that a female hound, covered by\na dog of her own kind, and carefully shut up from all others, has been\nknown to produce a mixed race, consisting of hounds and terriers, is\ntotally void of foundation. A curious circumstance, in the account of\nthe setter, will be mentioned, of an impression made upon the mind of\na bitch of that sort by the attention of a cur, which never had access\nto her, and yet her whelps were always like him, and possibly this\nhound bitch had a violent hankering after some terrier.\n\nDogs continue to propagate during life, which is commonly limited to\nfourteen or fifteen years, yet some have been known to exceed twenty,\nbut that is rare. The duration of life in this, as in other animals,\nbears proportion to the time of his growth, which in the dog is not\ncompleted in less than two years, and he generally lives fourteen. His\nage may be discovered by his teeth; when young, they are white, sharp,\nand pointed; as he increases in years, they become black, blunt, and\nunequal: it may likewise be known by the hair, which turns grey on the\nmuzzle, front, and round the eyes.\n\nThe manner in which the shepherds of the Pyrenees employ their\npeculiar breed of dogs, which are large, long-haired, of a tawny white\ncolour, and a very strong build, with a ferocious temper, exhibits a\nvivid instance of the trust they repose in the courage and fidelity of\nthese animals, and of the virtues by which they merit and reward it.\nAttended by three or more dogs, the shepherds will take their numerous\nflocks at early dawn to the part of the mountain side which is\ndestined for their pasture. Having counted them, they descend to\nfollow other occupations, and commit the guardianship of the sheep to\nthe sole watchfulness of the dogs. It has been frequently known, that\nwhen wolves have approached, the three sentinels would walk round and\nround the flock, gradually compressing them into so small a circle\nthat one dog might with ease overlook and protect them, and that this\nmeasure of caution being executed, the remaining two would set forth\nto engage the enemy, over whom, it is said, they invariably triumph.\n\nThe following interesting remarks are extracted from Chambers:--\n\nThe educability of the dog's perceptive faculties has been exemplified\nin a remarkable manner by his acquired knowledge of musical sounds. On\nsome dogs fine music produces an apparently painful effect, causing\nthem gradually to become restless, to moan piteously, and, finally, to\nfly from the spot with every sign of suffering and distress. Others\nhave been seen to sit and listen to music with seeming delight, and\neven to go every Sunday to church, with the obvious purpose of\nenjoying the solemn and powerful strains of the organ. Some dogs\nmanifest a keen sense of false notes in music. Mrs. Samuel Carter\nHall, at Old Brompton, possesses an Italian greyhound, which screams\nin apparent agony when a jarring combination of notes is produced,\naccidentally or intentionally, on the piano. These opposite and\nvarious manifestations show what might be done by education to teach\ndogs a critical knowledge of sounds. A gentleman of Darmstadt, in\nGermany, as we learn, has taught a poodle dog to detect false notes in\nmusic. We give the account of this remarkable instance of educability\nas it appears in a French newspaper.\n\nMr. S----, having acquired a competency by commercial industry,\nretired from business, and devoted himself, heart and soul, to the\ncultivation and enjoyment of music. Every member of his little\nhousehold was by degrees involved more or less in the same occupation,\nand even the housemaid could in time bear a part in a chorus, or\ndecipher a melody of Schubert. One individual alone in the family\nseemed to resist this musical entrancement; this was a small spaniel,\nthe sole specimen of the canine race in the mansion. Mr. S---- felt\nthe impossibility of instilling the theory of sounds into the head of\nPoodle, but he firmly resolved to make the animal bear _some_ part or\nother in the general domestic concert; and by perseverance, and the\nadoption of ingenious means, he attained his object. Every time that a\n_false note_ escaped either from the instrument or voice--as often as\nany blunder, of whatever kind, was committed by the members of the\nmusical family (and such blunders were sometimes committed\nintentionally)--down came its master's cane on the back of the\nunfortunate poodle, till she howled and growled again. Poodle\nperceived the meaning of these unkind chastisements, and instead of\nbecoming sulky, showed every disposition to howl on the instant a\nfalse note was uttered, without waiting for the formality of a blow.\nBy and by, a mere glance of Mr. S----'s eye was sufficient to make the\nanimal howl to admiration. In the end, Poodle became so thoroughly\nacquainted with, and attentive to, false notes and other musical\nbarbarisms, that the slightest mistake of the kind was infallibly\nsignalised by a yell from her, forming the most expressive commentary\nupon the misperformance.\n\nWhen extended trials were made of the animal's acquirements, they were\nnever found to fail, and Poodle became, what she still is, the most\nfamous, impartial, and conscientious connoisseur in the Duchy of\nHesse. But, as may be imagined, her musical appreciation is entirely\nnegative; if you sing with expression, and play with ability, she will\nremain cold and impassible. But let your execution exhibit the\nslightest defect, and you will have her instantly showing her teeth,\nwhisking her tail, yelping, barking, and growling. At the present\ntime, there is not a concert or an opera at Darmstadt to which Mr.\nS---- and his wonderful dog are not invited; or, at least, _the dog_.\nThe voice of the prima donna, the instruments of the band--whether\nviolin, clarionet, hautbois, or bugle--all of them must execute their\nparts in perfect harmony, otherwise Poodle looks at its master, erects\nits ears, shows its grinders, and howls outright. Old or new pieces,\nknown or unknown to the dog, produce on it the same effect.\n\nIt must not be supposed that the discrimination of the creature is\nconfined to the mere _execution_ of musical compositions. Whatever may\nhave been the case at the outset of its training, its present and\nperfected intelligence extends even to the secrets of composition.\nThus, if a vicious modulation, or a false relation of parts, occur in\na piece of music, the animal shows symptoms of uneasy hesitation; and\nif the error be continued, will infallibly give the grand condemnatory\nhowl. In short, Poodle is the terror of all the middling composers of\nDarmstadt, and a perfect nightmare to the imagination of all poor\nsingers and players. Sometimes Mr. S---- and his friends take a\npleasure in annoying the canine critic, by emitting all sorts of\ndiscordant sounds from instrument and voice. On such occasions the\ncreature loses all self-command, its eyes shoot forth fiery flashes,\nand long and frightful howls respond to the immelodious concert of the\nmischievous bipeds. But the latter must be careful not to go too far;\nfor when the dog's patience is tried to excess, it becomes altogether\nwild, and flies fiercely at the tormentors and their instruments.\n\nThis dog's case is a very curious one, and the attendant phenomena not\nvery easy of explanation. From the animal's power of discerning the\ncorrectness of musical composition, as well as of execution, one would\nbe inclined to imagine that Mr. S----, in training his dog, had only\ncalled into play faculties existing (but latent) before, and that dogs\nhave in them the natural germs of a fine musical ear. This seems more\nlikely to be the case, than that the animal's perfect musical taste\nwas wholly an acquirement, resulting from the training. However this\nmay be, the Darmstadt dog is certainly a marvellous creature, and we\nare surprised that, in these exhibiting times, its powers have not\nbeen displayed on a wider stage. The operatic establishments of London\nand Paris might be greatly the better, perhaps, for a visit from the\ncritical Poodle.\n\nIt is now settled, as a philosophical question, that the instruction\ncommunicated to dogs, as well as various other animals, has an\nhereditary effect on the progeny. If a dog be taught to perform\ncertain feats, the young of that dog will be much easier initiated in\nthe same feats than other dogs. Thus, the existing races of English\npointers are greatly more accomplished in their required duties than\nthe original race of Spanish pointers. Dogs of the St. Bernard variety\ninherit the faculty of tracking footsteps in the snow. A gentleman of\nour acquaintance, and of scientific acquirements, obtained some years\nago a pup, which had been produced in London by a female of the\ncelebrated St. Bernard breed. The young animal was brought to\nScotland, where it was never observed to give any particular tokens of\na power of tracking footsteps until winter, when the ground became\ncovered with snow. It _then_ showed the most active inclination to\nfollow footsteps; and so great was its power of doing so under these\ncircumstances, that, when its master had crossed a field in the most\ncurvilinear way, and caused other persons to cross his path in all\ndirections, it nevertheless followed his course with the greatest\nprecision. Here was a perfect revival of the habit of its Alpine\nfathers, with a degree of specialty as to external conditions at\nwhich, it seems to us, we cannot sufficiently wonder.\n\nSuch are some of the qualities of dogs in a state of domestication,\nand let me hope that the anecdotes related of them will tend to insure\nfor them that love and gratitude to which their own fine disposition\nand noble character give them a claim from us.\n\nIt is pleasing to observe that men of the highest acquirements and\nmost elevated minds have bestowed their sincere attachment upon their\nfavourite canine companions; for kindness to animals is, perhaps, as\nstrong an indication of the possession of generous sentiments as any\nthat can be adduced. The late Lord Grenville, a distinguished\nstatesman, an elegant scholar, and an amiable man, affords an\nillustration of the opinion: It is thus that he eloquently makes his\nfavourite Zephyr speak:--\n\n    \"Captum oculis, senioque hebetem, morboque gravatum,\n      Dulcis here, antiquo me quod amore foves,\n    Suave habet et carum Zephyrus tuus, et leviore\n      Se sentit mortis conditione premi.\n    Interiere quidem, tibi quae placuisse solebant,\n      Et formae dotes, et facile ingenium:\n    Deficiunt sensus, tremulae scintillula vitae\n      Vix micat, in cinerem mox abitura brevem.\n    Sola manet, vetuli tibi nec despecta ministri,\n      Mens grata, ipsaque in morte memor domini.\n    Hanc tu igitur, pro blanditiis mollique lepore,\n      Et prompta ad nutus sedulitate tuos,\n    Pro saltu cursuque levi, lusuque protervo,\n      Hanc nostri extremum pignus amoris habe.\n    Jamque vale! Elysii subeo loca laeta, piorum\n      Quae dat Persephone manibus esse canum.\"\n\nIn the previous pages I have endeavoured to give my readers some idea\nof the general character of the dog, and I will now proceed to\nillustrate it more fully by anecdotes peculiar to different breeds.\nThese animals will then be found to deserve the encomiums bestowed\nupon them by Buffon, \"as possessing such an ardour of sentiment, with\nfidelity and constancy in their affection, that neither ambition,\ninterest, nor desire of revenge, can corrupt them, and that they have\nno fear but that of displeasing. They are, in fact, all zeal, ardour,\nand obedience. More inclined to remember benefits than injuries; more\ndocile and tractable than any other animal, the dog is not only\ninstructed, but conforms himself to the manners, movements, and habits\nof those who govern him. He is always eager to obey his master, and\nwill defend his property at the risk of his own life.\" Pope says, that\nhistory is more full of examples of fidelity in the dog than in\nfriends; and Lord Byron characterises him as--\n\n                        \"in life the firmest friend,\n    The first to welcome, foremost to defend;\n    Whose honest heart is still his master's own;\n    Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone;\"\n\nand truly indeed may he be called\n\n    \"The rich man's guardian, and the poor man's friend.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: DEER-HOUNDS.]\n\n    \"His bulk and beauty speak no vulgar praise.\n\n       *          *          *          *\n\n    Oh had you seen him, vigorous, bold, and young,\n    Swift as a stag, and as a lion strong;\n    Him no fell savage in the plain withstood,\n    None 'scap'd him, bosomed in the gloomy wood;\n    His eye how piercing!\"\n                                              POPE.\n\nTHE IRISH AND HIGHLAND WOLF-DOG.\n\n\nA certain degree of romance will always be attached to the history of\nthe Irish wolf-dog, but so contradictory are the accounts handed down\nto us respecting it, that, with every disposition to do justice to\nthe character of this noble animal, the task is one of no small\ndifficulty.\n\nThis dog seems to have flourished, and to have become nearly extinct,\nwith the ancient kings of Ireland, and, with the harp and shamrock, is\nregarded as one of the national emblems of that country. When princely\nhospitality was to be found in the old palaces, castles, and baronial\nhalls of fair Erin, it is hardly possible to imagine anything more\naristocratic and imposing than the aspect of these dogs, while\nattending the banquets of their masters. So great, indeed, was their\nheight, that it has been affirmed, that when their chieftain was\nseated at table these dogs could rest their heads on his shoulders.\nHowever this may have been, it is certain that the bold, majestic, and\ncommanding appearance of the animal, joined to the mild and softened\nlook with which he regarded those to whom he was attached, and whom he\nwas always ready to defend, must have rendered him worthy of the\nenthusiasm with which the remembrance of him is still cherished by the\nwarm-hearted people of Ireland.\n\nThe following anecdote, which has been communicated to me by an\namiable Irish nobleman, will at all events serve to show the peculiar\ninstinct which the Irish wolf-dog was supposed to possess.\n\nA gentleman of an ancient family, whose name it is unnecessary to\nmention, from his having been engaged in the troubles which agitated\nIreland about fifty or sixty years since, went into a coffee-room at\nDublin during that period, accompanied by a noble wolf-dog, supposed\nto be one of the last of the breed. There was only one other gentleman\nin the coffee-room, who, on seeing the dog, went up to him, and began\nto notice him. His owner, in considerable alarm, begged him to desist,\nas the dog was fierce, and would never allow a stranger to touch him.\nThe gentleman resumed his seat, when the dog came to him, showed the\ngreatest pleasure at being noticed, and allowed himself to be fondled.\nHis owner could not disguise his astonishment. \"You are the only\nperson,\" he said, \"whom that dog would ever allow to touch him without\nshowing resentment. May I beg of you the favour to tell me your\nname?\"--mentioning his own at the same time. The stranger announced\nit, (he was the last of his race, one of the most ancient and noble in\nIreland, and descended from one of its kings.) \"I do not wonder,\" said\nthe owner of the dog, \"at the homage this animal has paid to you. He\nrecognizes in you the descendant of one of our most ancient race of\ngentlemen to whom this breed of dogs almost exclusively belonged, and\nthe peculiar instinct he possesses has now been shown in a manner\nwhich cannot be mistaken by me, who am so well acquainted with the\nferocity this dog has hitherto shown to all strangers.\"\n\nFew persons, Sir Walter Scott excepted, would perhaps be inclined to\ngive credit to this anecdote. So convinced was he of the extraordinary\ninstinct exhibited by dogs generally, that he has been heard to\ndeclare that he would believe anything of a dog. The anecdote,\nhowever, above related, was communicated to me with the strongest\nassurance of its strict accuracy.\n\nIn a poem, written by Mrs. Catherine Philips, about the year 1660, the\ncharacter of the Irish wolf-hound is well portrayed, and proves the\nestimation in which he was held at that period.\n\n     \"Behold this creature's form and state!\n      Him Nature surely did create,\n      That to the world might be exprest\n      What mien there can be in a beast;\n      More nobleness of form and mind\n      Than in the lion we can find:\n      Yea, this heroic beast doth seem\n      In majesty to rival him.\n\n      Yet he vouchsafes to man to show\n      His service, and submission too--\n      And here we a distinction have;\n      That brute is fierce--the dog is brave.\n\n      He hath himself so well subdued,\n      That hunger cannot make him rude;\n      And all his manners do confess\n      That courage dwells with gentleness.\n\n      War with the wolf he loves to wage,\n      And never quits if he engage;\n      But praise him much, and you may chance\n      To put him out of countenance.\n      And having done a deed so brave,\n      He looks not sullen, yet looks grave.\n\n      No fondling play-fellow is he;\n      His master's guard he wills to be:\n      Willing for him his blood be spent,\n      His look is never insolent.\n    Few men to do such noble deeds have learn'd,\n    Nor having done, could look so unconcern'd.\"\n\nThis is one of the finest descriptions of a noble dog which I have yet\nmet with in English poetry. Courage and modesty are well portrayed,\nand contrasted.\n\nThe following anecdotes relate to an animal which must have strongly\nresembled the Irish wolf-dog:--\n\nPlutarch mentions a certain Roman in the civil wars, whose head nobody\ndurst cut off for fear of the dog that guarded his body, and fought in\nhis defence. The same author relates that King Pyrrhus, in the course\nof one of his journies, observed a dog watching over a dead body; and\nhearing that he had been there three days without meat or drink,\nordered the body to be buried, and the dog taken care of and brought\nto him. A few days afterwards there was a muster of the soldiers, so\nthat every man had to march in order before the king. The dog lay\nquiet for some time; but when he saw the murderers of his late master\npass by, he flew upon them with extraordinary fury, barking, and\ntearing their garments, and frequently turning about to the king;\nwhich both excited the king's suspicion, and that of all who stood\nabout him. The men were in consequence apprehended, and though the\ncircumstances which appeared in evidence against them were very\nslight, they confessed the crime, and were accordingly punished.\n\nMontfaucon mentions a similar case of attachment and revenge which\noccurred in France, in the reign of Charles V.[E] The anecdote has\nbeen frequently related, and is as follows:--A gentleman named\nMacaire, an officer of the king's body-guard, entertained, for some\nreason, a bitter hatred against another gentleman, named Aubry de\nMontdidier, his comrade in service. These two having met in the Forest\nof Bondi, near Paris, Macaire took an opportunity of treacherously\nmurdering his brother-officer, and buried him in a ditch. Montdidier\nwas unaccompanied at the moment, excepting by a dog (probably a\nwolf-hound), with which he had gone out, perhaps to hunt. It is not\nknown whether the dog was muzzled, or from what other cause it\npermitted the deed to be accomplished without its interference. Be\nthis as it might, the hound lay down on the grave of its master, and\nthere remained till hunger compelled it to rise. It then went to the\nkitchen of one of Aubry de Montdidier's dearest friends, where it was\nwelcomed warmly, and fed. As soon as its hunger was appeased the dog\ndisappeared. For several days this coming and going was repeated, till\nat last the curiosity of those who saw its movements was excited, and\nit was resolved to follow the animal, and see if anything could be\nlearned in explanation of Montdidier's sudden disappearance. The dog\nwas accordingly followed, and was seen to come to a pause on some\nnewly-turned-up earth, where it set up the most mournful wailings and\nhowlings. These cries were so touching, that passengers were\nattracted; and finally digging into the ground at the spot, they found\nthere the body of Aubry de Montdidier. It was raised and conveyed to\nParis, where it was soon afterwards interred in one of the city\ncemeteries.\n\nThe dog attached itself from this time forth to the friend, already\nmentioned, of its late master. While attending on him, it chanced\nseveral times to get a sight of Macaire, and on every occasion it\nsprang upon him, and would have strangled him had it not been taken\noff by force. This intensity of hate on the part of the animal\nawakened a suspicion that Macaire had had some share in Montdidier's\nmurder, for his body showed him to have met a violent death. Charles\nV., on being informed of the circumstances, wished to satisfy himself\nof their truth. He caused Macaire and the dog to be brought before\nhim, and beheld the animal again spring upon the object of its hatred.\nThe king interrogated Macaire closely, but the latter would not admit\nthat he had been in any way connected with Montdidier's murder.\n\nBeing strongly impressed by a conviction that the conduct of the dog\nwas based on some guilty act of Macaire, the king ordered a combat to\ntake place between the officer and his dumb accuser, according to the\npractice in those days between human plaintiffs and defendants. This\nremarkable combat took place on the isle of Notre Dame at Paris, in\npresence of the whole court. The king allowed Macaire to have a strong\nclub, as a defensive weapon; while, on the other hand, the only\nself-preservative means allowed to the dog consisted of an empty cask,\ninto which it could retreat if hard pressed. The combatants appeared\nin the lists. The dog seemed perfectly aware of its situation and\nduty. For a short time it leapt actively round Macaire, and then, at\none spring, it fastened itself upon his throat, in so firm a manner\nthat he could not disentangle himself. He would have been strangled\nhad he not cried for mercy, and avowed his crime. The dog was pulled\nfrom off him; but he was only liberated from its fangs to perish by\nthe hands of the law. The fidelity of this dog has been celebrated in\nmany a drama and poem, and there is a monument of him in basso relievo\nstill to be seen in the castle of Montargis. The dog which attracted\nsuch celebrity has been usually called 'the dog of Montargis,' from\nthe combat having taken place at the chateau of that name.\n\nThe strength of these dogs must have been very great. A nobleman\ninformed me, that when he was a boy, and staying on a visit with the\nKnight of Kerry, two Irish wolf-dogs made their escape from the place\nin which they were confined, and pulled down and killed a horse, which\nwas in an adjoining paddock.\n\nThe following affecting anecdote of an Irish wolf-dog, called \"the dog\nof Aughrim,\" affords a proof of the extraordinary fidelity of these\nanimals to their masters, and puts to shame the vaunted superiority of\nmany human brutes.\n\nAt the hard-fought battle of Aughrim, or Vidconnel, an Irish officer\nwas accompanied by his wolf-hound. This gentleman was killed and\nstripped in the battle, but the dog remained by his body both by day\nand night. He fed upon some of the other bodies with the rest of the\ndogs, yet he would not allow them or anything else to touch that of\nhis master. When all the other bodies were consumed, the other dogs\ndeparted, but this used to go in the night to the adjacent villages\nfor food, and presently to return again to the place where his\nmaster's bones were only then left. This he continued to do from July,\nwhen the battle was fought, until the January following, when a\nsoldier being quartered near, and going that way by chance, the dog,\nfearing he came to disturb his master's bones, flew upon the soldier,\nwho, being surprised at the suddenness of the thing, unslung his\ncarbine, he having been thrown on his back, and killed the noble\nanimal. He expired with the same fidelity to the remains of his\nunfortunate master, as that master had shown devotion to the cause of\nhis unhappy country.\n\nIn the \"Irish Penny Journal\" there is an interesting account of the\nIrish wolf-dog, from which the following anecdote is taken.\n\nIn the mountainous parts of the county Tyrone, the inhabitants\nsuffered much from the wolves, and gave from the public fund as much\nfor the head of one of these animals, as they would now give for the\ncapture of a notorious robber on the highway. There lived in those\ndays an adventurer, who, alone and unassisted, made it his occupation\nto destroy these ravagers. The time for attacking them was in the\nnight, and midnight was fixed upon for doing so, as that was their\nwonted time for leaving their lairs in search of food, when the\ncountry was at rest and all was still; then, issuing forth, they fell\non their defenceless prey, and the carnage commenced. There was a\nspecies of dog for the purpose of hunting them, called the wolf-dog;\nthe animal resembled a rough, stout, half-bred greyhound, but was much\nstronger. In the county Tyrone there was then a large space of ground\nenclosed by a high stone wall, having a gap at each of the two\nopposite extremities, and in this were secured the flocks of the\nsurrounding farmers. But, secure as this fold was deemed, it was often\nentered by the wolves, and its inmates slaughtered. The neighbouring\nproprietors having heard of the noted wolf-hunter above mentioned, by\nname Rory Carragh, sent for him, and offered the usual reward, with\nsome addition, if he would undertake to destroy the two remaining\nwolves that had committed such devastation. Carragh, undertaking the\ntask, took with him two wolf-dogs, and a little boy twelve years of\nage, the only person who would accompany him, and repaired at the\napproach of midnight to the fold in question. \"Now,\" said Carragh to\nthe boy, \"as the two wolves usually enter the opposite extremities of\nthe sheep-fold at the same time, I must leave you and one of the dogs\nto guard this one while I go the other. He steals with all the caution\nof a cat, nor will you hear him, but the dog will, and will give him\nthe first fall. If, therefore, you are not active when he is down to\nrivet his neck to the ground with this spear, he will rise up and kill\nboth you and the dog. So good night.\"\n\n\"I'll do what I can,\" said the little boy, as he took the spear from\nthe wolf-hunter's hand.\n\nThe boy immediately threw open the gate of the fold, and took his seat\nin the inner part, close to the entrance, his faithful companion\ncrouching at his side, and seeming perfectly aware of the dangerous\nbusiness he was engaged in. The night was very dark and cold, and the\npoor little boy, being benumbed with the chilly air, was beginning to\nfall into a kind of sleep, when at that instant the dog, with a roar,\nleaped across, and laid his mortal enemy upon the earth. The boy was\nroused into double activity by the voice of his companion, and drove\nthe spear through the wolf's neck as he had been directed, at which\ntime Carragh appeared, bearing the head of the other.\n\nThis anecdote is taken from a biography of a Tyrone family, published\nin Belfast in 1829.\n\nIt is now time to attempt a description of this celebrated dog, and\nhere our difficulties commence. Some writers have affirmed that it was\nrough-coated, and had the appearance of a greyhound--\n\n   \"The greyhound! the great hound! the graceful of limb!\n    Rough fellow! tall fellow! &c.;\"\n\nwhile others assert that it was of a mastiff-like appearance, and\nsmooth, strong, and tall. All we can do is to bring forward the\ndifferent evidence we have been able to collect, and then to let our\nreaders judge for themselves.\n\nIn an old print of Patrick Sarsfield, Earl of Lucan, there are two\nwolf-dogs, which are represented as smooth, prick-eared, and with\nsomewhat bushy tails. Lord Lucan distinguished himself in several\nengagements, and commanded the second troop of Irish Horse Guards, to\nwhich he was appointed by James II., and received his death wound,\nbehaving most gallantly at the head of his countrymen, in 1693, when\nthe allies, under William III., were defeated by Marshal Luxembourg at\nthe battle of Landen. He was probably attended by his faithful\nwolf-dogs on that occasion, when he uttered those sublime words which\nno Irishman will ever forget--\"Oh that this was for Ireland!\" thus\nshowing his love and affection for his native country as he was\nexpiring in the arms of victory.\n\nAn old and amiable acquaintance, Mr. Aylmer Bourke Lambert, now, alas!\nno more, communicated an account of the wolf-hound to the Linnean\nSociety, which may be found in the third volume of their\n\"Transactions.\" He had in his possession an old picture of one of\nthese dogs, which, at the sale of his effects, was purchased by the\nEarl of Derby; the dog is represented as smooth-haired, with a\nsomewhat wide forehead, and having no appearance of the greyhound, but\nmore of that of the mastiff.\n\nIn February, 1841, Mr. Webber presented to the Royal Irish Academy an\nancient stone, on which was carved a rude bas-relief, supposed to be\nthe representation of a dog killing a wolf. Mr. Webber accompanied the\npresent with a communication, to the effect that the stone was taken\nfrom the castle of Ardnaglass, in the barony of Tireragh, and county\nof Sligo, and was said to commemorate the destruction of the last wolf\nin Ireland. The current tradition in the place from whence it came\nwas, that some years after it was supposed that the race of wolves was\nextinct, the flocks in the county of Leitrim were attacked by a wild\nanimal, which turned out to be a wolf; that thereupon the chieftains\nof Leitrim applied to O'Dowd, the chieftain of Tireragh (who possessed\na celebrated dog of the breed of the ancient Irish wolf-dog), to come\nand hunt the wolf. This application having been complied with by\nO'Dowd, there ensued a chase, which forms the subject of an ancient\nIrish legend, detailing the various districts through which it was\npursued, until at length the wolf was overtaken and killed in a small\nwood of pine-trees, at the foot of one of the mountains of Tireragh.\nThe quarter of land on which the wolf was killed is to this day called\n_Carrow na Madhoo_, which means \"the dog's quarter.\" In commemoration\nof the event, O'Dowd had a representation of it carved on stone, and\nplaced in the wall of his baronial residence. It is difficult to form\nan opinion of the shape of a dog from so rude a representation, except\nthat it appears to have had a wide forehead and pricked ears.\n\nA gentleman, who in his youth saw one of these dogs, informs me that\nit was smooth, strong, and partaking somewhat of the character and\nappearance of a powerful Danish dog. This agrees with the account\ngiven of it by some writers, especially in \"The Sportsman's Cabinet,\"\na work more remarkable for the truth and fineness of its engravings,\nthan for the matter contained in it. Buffon also forms much the same\nopinion. That great strength must be necessary to enable a dog to\ncompete with a wolf, cannot be doubted, and perhaps there is no breed\nof the rough greyhound now known capable of competing with a wolf\nsingle-handed. Her Majesty has now in her possession one of the finest\nspecimens of the Highland deer-hound. He has great strength and\nheight, is rough-coated, wide across the loins, and altogether a noble\nanimal. Powerful, however as he is, it may be questioned whether such\na dog would be a match for a wolf, which the Irish hounds undoubtedly\nwere. This circumstance alone would lead us to suppose, that we must\nlook to a different breed than that of greyhounds as the antagonists\nof the wolf.\n\nBut it is time to turn to the other side of the question.\n\nIn a very agreeable, well-written article in the \"Irish Penny Journal\"\nof May, 1841, the author brings forward strong evidence to prove that\nthe celebrated Irish wolf-dog resembled a greyhound in form. He will,\nI hope, allow me to quote some of his arguments, which show\nconsiderable research and historical information. He says:--\n\n\"Public opinion has long been divided respecting the precise\nappearance and form of this majestic animal, and so many different\nideas have been conceived of him, that many persons have been induced\nto come to the conclusion that no particular breed of dogs was ever\nkept for wolf-hunting in Ireland, but that the appellation of\n'wolf-dog' was bestowed upon any dog swift enough to overtake and\npowerful enough to contend with and overcome that formidable animal.\nWhile some hold this opinion, others suppose that though a particular\nbreed was used, it was a sort of heavy mastiff-like dog, now extinct.\nIt is the object of the present paper to show, that not only did\nIreland possess a peculiar race of dogs, exclusively devoted to\nwolf-hunting, but that those dogs, instead of being of the mastiff\nkind, resembled the greyhound in form; and instead of being extinct\nare still to be met with, although they are very scarce. I myself was\nonce in a very gross error respecting this dog, for I conceived him\nto have been a mastiff, and implicitly believed that the dogs of Lord\nAltamont, described in the third volume of the Linnean 'Transactions'\nby Mr. Lambert, were the sole surviving representatives of the Irish\nwolf-dog. An able paper, read by Mr. Haffield about a year ago, before\nthe Dublin Natural History Society, served to stagger me in my belief,\nand subsequent careful inquiry and research have completed my\nconversion. I proceed to lay before my readers the result of that\ninquiry, and I feel confident that no individual, after reading the\nevidence which I shall adduce, will continue to harbour a doubt\nrespecting the true appearance and form of the ancient Irish wolf-dog.\n\n\"We are informed by several disjointed scraps of Celtic verse, that in\nthe times of old, when Fionn Mac Cumhaill, popularly styled Finn Mac\nCool, wielded the sceptre of power and justice, we possessed a\nprodigious and courageous dog, used for hunting the deer and wild\nboar, and also the wolf, which ravaged the folds and slaughtered the\nherds of our ancestors. We learn from the same source that these dogs\nwere also frequently employed as auxiliaries in war, and that they\nwere 'mighty in combat, their breasts like plates of brass, and\ngreatly to be feared.' We might adduce the songs of Ossian, where the\nepithets 'hairy-footed,' 'white-breasted,' and 'bounding,' are\nsingularly characteristic of some of the striking peculiarities of the\ndog in question, and strangely coincide with the descriptions\nfurnished by other writers respecting him. Mac Pherson must, at all\nevents, have been at the pains of considerable research if he actually\nforged the beautiful poems, which he put forth to the world under\nOssian's name. The word 'Bran,' the name given to Fingal's noble\nhound, employed by others than Ossian, is Celtic, and signifies\n'Mountain Torrent,' implying that impetuosity of course and headlong\ncourage which the dog possessed. I have said that many assert the\nIrish wolf-dog to be no longer in existence. I have ventured a denial\nof this, and refer to the wolf-dog or deer-dog of the Highlands of\nScotland, as his actual and faithful living representative. Perhaps I\nam wrong in saying representative. I hold that the Irish wolf-dog and\nthe Highland deer-dog are one and the same, and I now proceed to cite\na few authorities in support of my position.\n\n\"The Venerable Bede, as well as the Scotch historian John Major,\ninforms us that Scotland was originally peopled from Ireland under the\nconduct of Renda, and that one half of Scotland spoke the Irish\nlanguage as their mother-tongue. Many persons, also, are doubtless\naware that, even at this present time, the Gaelic and Erse are so much\nalike, that a Connaught man finds no difficulty in comprehending and\nconversing with a Highlander. Scotland also was called by the early\nwriters Scotia Minor, and Ireland, Scotia Major. The colonization,\ntherefore, of Scotland from Ireland admits of little doubt. As the\nIrish wolf-dog was at that time in the enjoyment of his most extended\nfame, it was not to be expected that the colonists would omit taking\nwith them such a fine description of dog, and which would prove so\nuseful to them in a newly established settlement, and that, too, at a\nperiod when hunting was not merely an amusement, but one of their main\noccupations, and also their main source of subsistence. The Irish\nwolf-dog was thus carried into Scotland, and became the Highland or\nScottish wolf-dog, changing in process of time his name with his\ncountry; and when wolves disappeared from the land, his occupation was\nthat of deer-hunting, and thus his present name.\n\n\"In Ireland the wolves were in existence longer than in Scotland, but\nas soon as wolves ceased to exist in the former country, the dogs were\nsuffered to become extinct also, while in Scotland there was still\nabundant employment for them after the days of wolf-hunting were\nover--the deer still remained; and useful as they had been as\nwolf-dogs, they proved themselves, if possible, still more so as\ndeer-hounds.\n\n\"That the Irish wolf-dog was a tall, rough greyhound, similar in every\nrespect to the Highland dog of the present day (of which an engraving\nis given) cannot be doubted from the following authorities. Strabo\nmentions a tall greyhound in use among the Pictish and Celtic nations,\nwhich he states was held in high esteem by our ancestors, and was even\nimported into Gaul for the purposes of the chase. Campion expressly\nspeaks of the Irish wolf-dog as a 'greyhound of great bone and limb.'\nSilaus calls it also a greyhound, and asserts that it was imported\ninto Ireland by the Belgae, and is the same with the renowned Belgic\ndog of antiquity, and that it was, during the days of Roman grandeur,\nbrought to Rome for the combats of the Amphitheatre. Pliny relates a\ncombat in which the Irish wolf-dog took a part: he calls them 'Canes\nGraii Hibernici,' and describes them as much taller than the mastiff.\nHolinshed, in speaking of the Irish, says, 'They are not without\nwolves, and greyhounds to hunt them.' Evelyn, speaking of the\nbear-garden, says, 'The bull-dogs did exceeding well, but the Irish\nwolf-dog exceeded; which was a tall greyhound, a stately creature, and\nbeat a cruel mastiff.'\n\n\"Llewellyn, prince of Wales, was presented by King John with a\nspecimen of this kind of dog. These animals were in those days\npermitted to be kept only by princes and chiefs; and in the Welsh laws\nof the ninth century we find heavy penalties laid down for the maiming\nor injuring of the Irish greyhound, or, as it was styled in the code\nalluded to, 'Canis Graius Hibernicus;' and a value was set on them,\nequal to more than double that set on the ordinary greyhound.\n\n\"Moryson, secretary to Lord-deputy Mountjoy, says, 'The Irishmen and\ngreyhounds are of great stature.' Lombard remarks, that the finest\nhunting dogs in Europe were produced in Ireland: 'Greyhounds useful to\ntake the stag, wild boar, or wolf.' Pennant describes these dogs as\nscarce, and as being led to the chase in leather slips or thongs, and\ncalls them 'the Irish greyhound.' Bay mentions him as the greatest dog\nhe had ever seen. Buffon says, he saw an Irish greyhound, which\nmeasured five feet in height when in a sitting posture, and says that\nall other sorts of greyhounds are descended from him, and that in\nScotland it is called the Highland greyhound: that it is very large,\ndeep-chested, and covered with long rough hair.\n\n\"Scottish noblemen were not always content with such specimens of this\ndog as their own country produced, but frequently sent for them to\nIreland, conceiving, doubtless, that they would be found better and\npurer in their native land. The following is a copy of a letter\naddressed by Deputy Falkland to the Earl of Cork, in 1623:--\n\n    'My Lord,\n\n    'I have lately received letters from my Lord Duke of Buccleuch and\n    others of my noble friends, who have entreated me to send them\n    some greyhound dogs and bitches, out of this kingdom, of the\n    largest sort, which I perceive they intend to present unto divers\n    princes and other noble persons; and if you can possibly, let them\n    be white, which is the colour most in request here. Expecting your\n    answer by the bearer, I commit you to the protection of the\n    Almighty, and am your Lordship's attached friend,\n\n                                                           'FALKLAND.'\n\n\"Smith, in his 'History of Waterford,' says, 'the Irish greyhound is\nnearly extinct: it is much taller than a mastiff, but more like a\ngreyhound, and for size, strength, and shape, cannot be equalled.\nRoderick, king of Connaught, was obliged to furnish hawks and\ngreyhounds to Henry II. Sir Thomas Rue obtained great favour from the\nGreat Mogul in 1615, for a brace of Irish greyhounds presented by him.\nHenry VIII. presented the Marquis of Dessarages, a Spanish grandee,\nwith two goshawks and four Irish greyhounds.'\n\n\"Perhaps sufficient evidence has now been adduced to demonstrate the\nidentity of the Irish wolf-dog with the Highland deer-hound. I may,\nhowever, in conclusion, give an extract from the excellent paper of\nMr. Haffield, already alluded to, as having been read before the\nDublin Natural History Society, and which was received by that\ngentleman from Sir William Betham, Ulster King-at-Arms, an authority\nof very high importance on any subject connected with Irish\nantiquities. Sir William says,--'From the mention of the wolf-dogs in\nthe old Irish poems and stories, and also from what I have heard from\na very old person, long since dead, of his having seen them at 'The\nNeale,' in the county of Mayo, the seat of Sir John Browne, ancestor\nto Lord Kilmaine, I have no doubt they were a gigantic greyhound. My\ndeparted friend described them as being very gentle, and says that Sir\nJohn Browne allowed them to come into his dining-room, where they put\ntheir heads over the shoulders of those who sat at table. They were\nnot smooth-skinned, like our greyhounds, but rough and curly-haired.\nThe Irish poets call the wolf-dog 'Cu,' and the common greyhound\n'Gayer;' a marked distinction, the word 'Cu' signifying a champion.'\n\n\"The colour of these dogs varies, but the most esteemed are dark\niron-grey, with white breast. They are, however, to be found of a\nyellowish or sandy hue, brindled, or even white. In former times, as\nwill be seen from Lord Falkland's letter quoted above, this latter\ncolour was by many preferred. It is described as a stately, majestic\nanimal, extremely good-tempered and quiet in his disposition, unless\nwhen irritated or excited, when he becomes furious; and is, in\nconsequence of his tremendous strength, a truly formidable animal.\"\n\nGoldsmith asserts that he had seen a dozen of these dogs, and informs\nus \"that the largest was about four feet high, or as tall as a calf of\na year old. They are generally of a white or cinnamon colour, and more\nrobust than the greyhound--their aspect mild, and their disposition\ngentle and peaceable. It is said that their strength is so great, that\nin combat the mastiff or bull-dog is far from equal to them. They\ncommonly seize their antagonists by the back and shake them to death.\nThese dogs were never serviceable for hunting, either the stag, the\nfox, or the hare. Their chief utility was in hunting wolves, and to\nthis breed may be attributed the final extirpation of those ferocious\nanimals in England and Wales in early times in the woody districts.\"\n\nHaving thus given these different accounts of the Irish wolf-dog, I\nmay add that some persons are of opinion that there were two kinds of\nthem--one partaking of the shape and disposition of the mastiff, and\nthe other of the Highland deer-hound. It is not improbable that a\nnoble cross of dogs might have been made from these two sorts. At all\nevents I have fairly stated the whole of the information I have been\nable to obtain respecting these dogs, and my readers must form their\nown opinions. The following anecdote, recently communicated to me, is\ngiven in the words of the writer:--\n\n\"Two whelps were made a present to my brother by Harvey Combe, of a\nbreed between the old Irish wolf-dog and the blood-hound. My brother\ngave them to Robert Evatt, of Mount Louise, county Monaghan. One died\nyoung, but the other grew to be a very noble animal indeed.\nUnfortunately he took to chasing sheep, and became an incorrigible\ndestroyer of that inoffensive but valuable stock. Evatt found he could\nnot afford to keep such a marauder, and as he was going to Dublin he\ntook up the sheep-killer, in order to present him to the Zoological\nSociety as a fine specimen of the breed. His servant was holding him\nat the door of the hotel when a gig drove up, and the gentleman\nalighted. The dog sprung from the servant's hold, and jumping into the\ngig with one bound, seized the mat at the bottom of the gig, which was\nmade of sheepskin, and with another bound made away with his woolly\nprize, and was brought back with difficulty, after a long and\nfatiguing pursuit.\"\n\nThis is one of the most desperate cases of sheep-hunting in dogs I\never met with. It is said, that this propensity may be got rid of by\ntying a cord covered with wool to the dog's lower jaw, so that the\nwool may be kept in the mouth.\n\nI should mention, that in a manuscript of Froissart in the British\nMuseum, which is highly illuminated, there is a representation of the\ngrand entrance of Queen Isabel of England into Paris, in the year\n1324. She is attended by a noble greyhound, who has a flag, _powdered_\nwith fleurs-de-lys, bound to his neck.\n\nGreyhounds were a favourite species of dog in the middle ages. In the\nancient pipe-rolls, payments are frequently made in greyhounds. In\nHawes' \"Pastime of Pleasure,\" (written in the time of Henry VII.) Fame\nis attended by two greyhounds, on whose golden collars, \"Grace\" and\n\"Governaunce\" are inscribed in diamond letters.\n\nIn the pictures of Rubens, Snyders, and other old masters, some of the\npowerful dogs there represented would appear to be a breed between the\ngreyhound and mastiff. Nothing can exceed the majestic and commanding\nappearance of these dogs, and such a breed would be most likely to\nproduce the sort of animal most capable of contending with the wolf.\n\nThe Irish wolf-dogs were formerly placed as the supporters of the arms\nof the ancient Monarchs of Ireland. They were collared _or_, with the\nmotto,\n\n    \"Gentle when stroked--fierce when provoked.\"\n\nMr. Scrope, in his agreeable book on deer-stalking in Scotland, has\ncommunicated an account from Mr. Macneill, of Colonsay, of the\nHighland deer-hound, in which are some interesting remarks relative to\nthe Irish wolf-dog, and from which I shall make a few extracts.\n\nIn making these extracts, it is impossible not to be struck with a\nremark in the work referred to, that from modern writers we learn\nnothing further respecting the Irish wolf-dog, than that such a race\nof dogs at one time existed in Ireland, that they were of a gigantic\nsize, and that they are now extinct.\n\nOne great obstacle in the way of investigating the history of this dog\nhas arisen from the different appellations given to it, according to\nthe fancy of the natives in different parts of the country, such as\nIrish wolf-dog, Irish greyhound, Highland deer-hound, and Scotch\ngreyhound, and this circumstance may have produced the confusion in\nfixing its identity.\n\nIn the fourth century a number of dogs, of a great size, were sent in\niron cages from Ireland to Rome, and it is not improbable that the\ndogs so sent were greyhounds, particularly as we learn from the\nauthority of Evelyn and others, that the Irish wolf-dog was used for\nthe fights of the bear-garden. \"Greyhound\" probably means a \"great\nhound.\"\n\nHolinshed, in his \"Description of Ireland and the Irish,\" written in\n1586, has the following notice:--\"They are not without wolves, and\ngreyhounds to hunt them, bigger of bone and limb than a colt;\" and in\na frontispiece to Sir James Ware's \"History of Ireland,\" an\nallegorical representation is given of a passage from the Venerable\nBede, in which two dogs are introduced, bearing a strong resemblance\nto that given by Gesner, in his \"History of Quadrupeds,\" published in\n1560.\n\nThe term _Irish_ is applied to Highland dogs, as everything Celtic\n(not excepting the language) was designated in England; probably in\nconsequence of Ireland being, at that period, better known to the\nEnglish than Scotland. This is, perhaps, a proof of the similarity of\nthe Irish and Scotch deer-hounds.\n\nOf the courage of the ancient deer-hound there can be little doubt,\nfrom the nature of the game for which he was used. If any proof were\nwanting, an incident mentioned by Evelyn in his Diary, in 1670, when\npresent at a bull-fight in the bear-garden, is conclusive. He says,\n\"The bulls (meaning the bull-dogs) did exceeding well, but the Irish\nwolf-dog exceeded, which was a tall greyhound, a stately creature,\nindeed, who beat a cruel mastiff.\"\n\nHere, perhaps, is a proof that the Irish wolf-dog was a greyhound; and\nthere can be little doubt that it is the same dog we find mentioned\nunder the name of the Irish greyhound.\n\nBuffon remarks that \"the Irish greyhounds are of a very ancient race.\nThey were called by the ancients, dogs of Epirus, and Albanian dogs.\nPliny gives an account of a combat between one of these dogs, first\nwith a lion, and then with an elephant. In France they are so rare,\nthat I never saw above one of them, which appeared, when sitting, to\nbe about five feet high. He was totally white, and of a mild and\npeaceable disposition.\"\n\nThe following description of these dogs, translated from a Celtic\npoem, is probably an accurate one:--\n\n   \"An eye of sloe, with ear not low,\n    With horse's breast, with depth of chest,\n    With breadth of loin, and curve in groin\n    And nape set far behind the head--\n    Such were the dogs that Fingal bred.\"\n\nIt is probable that even in Scotland very few of the pure breed of\ndogs are left, but those which are show a surprising combination of\nspeed, strength, size, endurance, courage, sagacity, docility, and it\nmay be added, dignity. The purest specimens of the deer-hound now to\nbe met with are supposed to be those belonging to Captain M'Neill of\nColonsay, two of them being called Buskar and Bran. And here let me\ngive an extract from an interesting and graphic account, published by\nMr. Scrope, of the performance of these dogs in the chase of a stag.\nLet us fancy a party assembled over-night in a Highland glen,\nconsisting of sportsmen, deer-stalkers, a piper and two deer-hounds,\ncooking their supper, and concluding it with the never-failing\naccompaniment of whisky-toddy. Let us fancy them reposing on a couch\nof dried fern and heather, and being awoke in the morning with the\nlively air of \"Hey, Johnny Cope.\" While their breakfast is preparing,\nthey wash and refresh themselves at a pure mountain stream, and are\nsoon ready to issue forth with Buskar and Bran. The party proceeds up\na rocky glen, where the stalker sees a stag about a mile off. He\nimmediately prostrates himself on the ground, and in a second the rest\nfollow his example. We will not follow all the different manoeuvres of\nthe deer-stalker and his followers, but bring them at once near the\nunconscious stag. After performing a very considerable circuit, moving\nsometimes forwards and sometimes backwards, the party at length arrive\nat the back of a hillock, on the opposite side of which the stalker\nsaid, in a whisper, the deer was lying, and that he was not distant a\nhundred yards. The whole party immediately moved forward in silent and\nbreathless expectation, with the dogs in front straining in the slips.\nOn reaching the top of the hillock, a full view of the noble stag\npresented itself, who, having heard the footsteps, had sprung on his\nlegs, and was staring at his enemies, at the distance of about sixty\nyards.\n\n\"The dogs were slipped; a general halloo burst from us all, and the\nstag, wheeling round, set off at full speed, with Buskar and Bran\nstraining after him.\n\n\"The brown figure of the deer, with his noble antlers laid back,\ncontrasted with the light colour of the dogs stretching along the dark\nheath, presented one of the most exciting scenes that it is possible\nto imagine.\n\n\"The deer's first attempt was to gain some rising ground to the left\nof the spot where we stood, and rather behind us, but, being closely\npursued by the dogs, he soon found that his only safety was in speed;\nand (as a deer does not run well up-hill, nor like a roe, straight\ndown hill) on the dogs approaching him, he turned, and almost retraced\nhis footsteps, taking, however, a steeper line of descent than the one\nby which he ascended. Here the chase became most interesting--the dogs\npressed him hard, and the deer getting confused, found himself\nsuddenly on the brink of a small precipice of about fourteen feet in\nheight, from the bottom of which there sloped a rugged mass of stones.\nHe paused for a moment, as if afraid to take the leap, but the dogs\nwere so close that he had no alternative.\n\n\"At this time the party were not above one hundred and fifty yards\ndistant, and most anxiously waited the result, fearing, from the\nruggedness of the ground below, that the deer would not survive the\nleap. They were, however, soon relieved from their anxiety, for though\nhe took the leap, he did so more cunningly than gallantly, dropping\nhimself in the most singular manner, so that his hind legs first\nreached the broken rocks below; nor were the dogs long in following\nhim. Buskar sprang first, and, extraordinary to relate, did not lose\nhis legs. Bran followed, and, on reaching the ground, performed a\ncomplete somerset. He soon, however, recovered his legs, and the chase\nwas continued in an oblique direction down the side of a most rugged\nand rocky brae, the deer, apparently more fresh and nimble than ever,\njumping through the rocks like a goat, and the dogs well up, though\noccasionally receiving the most fearful falls.\n\n\"From the high position in which we were placed, the chase was visible\nfor nearly half a mile. When some rising ground intercepted our view,\nwe made with all speed for a higher point, and, on reaching it, we\ncould perceive that the dogs, having got upon smooth ground, had\ngained on the deer, who was still going at speed, and were close up\nwith him. Bran was then leading, and in a few seconds was at his\nheels, and immediately seized his hock with such violence of grasp, as\nseemed in a great measure to paralyse the limb, for the deer's speed\nwas immediately checked. Buskar was not far behind, for soon\nafterwards passing Bran, he seized the deer by the neck.\nNotwithstanding the weight of the two dogs which were hanging to him,\nhaving the assistance of the slope of the ground, he continued\ndragging them along at a most extraordinary rate (in defiance of their\nutmost exertions to detain him), and succeeded more than once in\nkicking Bran off. But he became at length exhausted--the dogs\nsucceeded in pulling him down; and though he made several attempts to\nrise, he never completely regained his legs.\n\n\"On coming up, we found him perfectly dead, with the joints of both\nhis forelegs dislocated at the knee, his throat perforated, and his\nchest and flanks much lacerated.\n\n\"As the ground was perfectly smooth for a considerable distance round\nthe place where he fell, and not in any degree swampy, it is difficult\nto account for the dislocation of his knees, unless it happened during\nhis struggles to rise. Buskar was perfectly exhausted, and had lain\ndown, shaking from head to foot much like a broken-down horse; but on\nour approaching the deer he rose, walked round him with a determined\ngrowl, and would scarcely permit us to get near him. He had not,\nhowever, received any cut or injury, while Bran showed several\nbruises, nearly a square inch having been taken off the front of his\nfore-leg, so that the bone was visible, and a piece of burnt heather\nhad passed quite through his foot.\n\n\"Nothing could exceed the determined courage displayed by both dogs,\nparticularly by Buskar, throughout the chase, and especially in\npreserving his hold, though dragged by the deer in a most violent\nmanner.\"\n\nIt is hoped that this account of the high spirit and perseverance of\nthe Scotch deer-hound will not be found uninteresting. This noble\ncreature was the pride and companion of our ancestors, and for a long\nperiod in the history of this country, particularly in Ireland, the\nonly dog used in the sports of the field. When we consider the great\ncourage, combined with the most perfect gentleness of this animal, his\ngigantic, picturesque, and graceful form, it must be a subject of\nregret that the breed is likely to become extinct. Where shall we find\ndogs possessing such a combination of fine and noble qualities?\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe following anecdote, which with the accompanying fine engraving is\ntaken from the New Sporting Magazine for January 1839, presents a\nstriking example of the same kind:--\n\n\"The incident which the artist has made the subject for our\nembellishment occurred with Lord Ossulston's stag-hounds, on Tuesday,\nthe 1st of May, when the stag, after a fast run of an hour, jumped\nover a precipice, and broke his neck. The hounds were, at this time,\nclose to his haunches, and a couple and a half of the leading dogs\nwent over with the stag. Two of the hounds were so hurt that they\ncould not move, and the third was found by the greencoat first up,\nlying on the dead deer.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI am indebted to that clever and intelligent authoress, Mrs. S. Carter\nHall, for her recollections of an Irish wolf-dog and his master, which\nI cannot do better than give in her own words:--\n\n\"When I was a child, I had a very close friendship with a genuine old\nwolf-dog, Bruno by name. He was the property of an old friend of my\ngrandmother's, who claimed descent from the Irish kings. His name was\nO'Toole. His manners were the most courtly you can imagine; as they\nmight well be, for he had spent much time and fortune at the French\ncourt, when Marie Antoinette was in her prime and beauty. His visits\nwere my jubilees--there was the kind, dignified old gentleman, who\ntold me tales--there was his tall, gaunt dog, grey with age, and yet\nwith me full of play; and there were two rough terriers, whom Bruno\nkept in admirable order. He managed the little one by simply placing\nhis paw upon it when it was too frisky; but Vixen, the large one, like\nmany ladies, had a will of her own, and entertained some idea of being\nmistress. Bruno would bear a good deal from her, giving, however, now\nand then, a low deep growl; but when provoked too much, he would\nquietly lift the dog off the ground by the strength of his jaws (his\nteeth were gone), stand with her in his mouth at the doors until they\nwere opened, and then deposit her, half strangled as she was, in a\nnettle-bed some distance from the house. The dog's discrimination was\ncurious. If Vixen was thrown upon him, or if we forced her to insult\nhim, he never punished her; but if she of her own accord teazed him\nmore than his patience could bear, the punishment was certain to\nfollow.\n\n\"O'Toole and his dogs always occupied the same room, the terriers\nbeing on the bed with their master. No entreaty, however, ever induced\nBruno to sleep on anything softer than stone. He would remove the\nhearth-rug and lay on the marble. His master used to instance the\ndog's disdain of luxury as a mark of his noble nature.\n\n\"I should not omit to tell you, as characteristic of my old friend,\nthat O'Toole was proud, and never would submit to be called 'Mr.'\nMeeting, one day, Lord Arne in Dame Street, Dublin, while the old man\nwas followed by his three wolf-dogs, of which Bruno was the last, the\nyoung nobleman, who had also his followers in the shape of 'Parliament\nmen,' said to the descendant of Irish kings, nodding to him familiarly\nat the same time, 'How do you do, _Mr._ O'Toole?' The old man paused,\ndrew himself up, lifted his hat, made his courtly bow, and answered,\n'O'Toole salutes Arne.' I can recall nothing more picturesque than\nthat majestic old gentleman and his dog, both remnants of a bygone\nage. Bruno was rough, but not long-coated, very grave, observant,\nenduring every one, very fond of children, playing with them gently,\nbut only crouching and fawning on his master; 'and that,' O'Toole\nwould say, 'is a proof of my royal blood.' I could fill a volume with\nmemoirs of that fine old man. He was more than six feet in height, and\nhis dog always sat with his head on his master's knee.\"\n\nThis is altogether a pretty and interesting picture.\n\nThe sagacity of this fine breed is well illustrated in what follows:--\n\nA gentleman walking along the road on Kingston Hill, accompanied by a\nfriend and a noble deer-hound, which was also a retriever, threw his\nglove into a ditch; and having walked on for a mile, sent his dog back\nfor it. After waiting a considerable time, and the dog not returning,\nthey retraced their steps. Hearing loud cries in the distance, they\nhastened on, and at last saw the dog dragging a boy by his coat\ntowards them. On questioning the boy, it appeared that he had picked\nup the glove and put it into his pocket. The sagacious animal had no\nother means of conveying it to his master than by compelling the boy\nto accompany him.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe following anecdotes are from Capt. Thomas Brown's now scarce work,\n\"Biographical Sketches and Anecdotes of Dogs.\" He says:--\n\n\"Sir Walter Scott has most obligingly furnished me with the following\nanecdotes of his celebrated dog Maida:--\n\n\"I was once riding over a field on which the reapers were at work, the\nstooks being placed behind them, as is usual. Maida having found a\nhare, began to chase her, to the great amusement of the spectators, as\nthe hare turned very often and very swiftly among the stooks. At\nlength, being hard pressed, she fairly bolted into one of them. Maida\nwent in headlong after her, and the stook began to be much agitated in\nvarious directions. At length the sheaves tumbled down; and the hare\nand the dog, terrified alike at their overthrow, ran different ways,\nto the great amusement of the spectators.\"\n\n\"Among several peculiarities which Maida possessed, one was a strong\naversion to a certain class of artists, arising from the frequent\nrestraints he was subjected to in having his portrait taken, on\naccount of his majestic appearance. The instant he saw a pencil and\npaper produced he prepared to beat a retreat; and, if forced to\nremain, he exhibited the strongest marks of displeasure.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nRanaldson Macdonell, Esq. of Glengarry, has most kindly furnished the\nfollowing interesting notices and anecdotes of the Scottish Highland\ngreyhound:--\n\n\"Not many years since one of Glengarry's tenants, who had some\nbusiness with his chief, happened to arrive at Glengarry House at\nrather an early hour in the morning. A deer-hound perceiving this\nperson sauntering about before the domestics were astir, walked\nquietly up to him, took him gently by the wrist with his teeth, and\nproceeded to lead him off the ground. The man, finding him forbearing,\nattempted resistance; but the dog, instantly seizing his wrist with\nredoubled pressure, soon convinced him that his attempt was in vain.\nThus admonished, the man took the hint, and quietly yielded to his\ncanine conductor, who, without farther injury, led him to the outside\nof the gate, and then left him. The whole of the dogs at Glengarry\nHouse were allowed to go at liberty at all times.\n\n\"The Highland greyhounds, or deer-hounds as they are called in the\nHighlands, have a great antipathy to the sheep-dogs, and never fail to\nattack them whenever an opportunity offers. A shepherd, whose colley\nhad frequently been attacked by the deer-dogs of Glengarry singly, and\nalways succeeded in beating them off on such occasions, was one day\nassailed by them in a body; and his life would have been in\nconsiderable danger, but for one of the keepers, who happened to pass\nat the time, and called them off.\n\n\"The following circumstance will prove the exquisite sense of smell\npossessed by the deer-hound. One of this breed, named Bran, when held\nin the leash, followed the track of a wounded stag, and that in most\nunfavourable rainy weather, for three successive days, at the end of\nwhich time the game was shot. He was wounded first within nine miles\nof Invergarry House, and was traced that night to the estate of\nGlenmoriston. At dusk in the evening the deer-stalkers placed a stone\non each side of the last fresh print of his hoof, and another over it;\nand this they did each night following. On the succeeding morning they\nremoved the upper stone, when the dog recovered the scent, and the\ndeer was that day traced over a great part of Glenmoriston's ground.\nOn the third day he was retraced to the lands of Glengarry, and there\nshot.\n\n\"My present dog, Comhstri, to great courage unites the quality of a\ngentle disposition, with much fidelity and attachment. Though not so\nlarge as some of his kindred, he is nevertheless as high-spirited and\ndetermined as any of his race, which the following circumstance will\ntestify: 'About three years ago, a deer from the wood of Derrygarbh,\nwhose previous hurts had been healed, came out of Glengarry's pass,\nwho wounded it severely in the body with a rifle bullet. The\ndeer-hounds were immediately laid on the blood-track. The stag was\nstarted in the course of a few minutes; the dogs were instantly\nslipped, and the fine animal ran to bay in a deep pool of water, below\na cascade, on the Garyquulach burn. Comhstri immediately plunged in,\nand seized the stag by the throat; both went under water, surrounded\nwith the white foam, slightly tinged with the deer's blood. The dog\nsoon came to the surface to recover his breath; and before the other\ncould do so, Comhstri dived, and again seized him by the throat. The\nstag was soon after taken out of the pool dead.\n\n\"Comhstri's colour is grey, with a white chest; but we have had them\nof different colours at Glengarry, such as pure white, black,\nbrindled, and sand-colour.\n\n\"When the Highlanders dream of a _black_ dog, it is interpreted to\nmean one of the clan of Macdonell; but if of a deer-hound, it denotes\na chief, or one of the principal persons of that clan.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThat the Scottish dogs were much prized in England from the earliest\ntimes, the following interesting account, taken from Holinshed's\nChronicles, 'Historie of Scotland,' p. 71, printed in 1586, will show.\n\"And shortlie after the return of these ambassadors into their\ncountrie, divers young gentlemen of the Pictish nobilitie repaired\nunto King Crathlint, to hunt and make merie with him; but when they\nshould depart homewards, perceiving that the Scotish dogs did farre\nexcell theirs, both in fairnesse, swiftnesse, hardinesse, and also in\nlong standing up and holding out, they got diverse both dogs and\nbitches of the best kinds for breed to be given them by the Scotish\nLords; and yet not so contented, they stole one belonging to the king\nfrom his keeper, being more esteemed of him than all the others which\nhe had about him. The master of the leash being informed hereof,\npursued after them which had stollen that dog, thinking indeed to\nhave taken him from them; but they not willing to part with him, fell\nat altercation, and in the end chanced to strike the maister of the\nleash through with their horsespeares that he died presentlie:\nwhereupon noise and crie being raised in the countrie by his servants,\ndiverse of the Scots, as they were going home from hunting, returned,\nand, falling upon the Picts to revenge the death of their fellow,\nthere ensued a shrewd bickering betwixt them, so that of the Scots\nthere died three score gentlemen, besides a great number of the\ncommons, not one of them understanding (till all was done) what the\nmatter meant. Of the Picts there were about an hundred slaine. This\ncircumstance led to a bloody war betwixt the two nations.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe following interesting anecdote, related by Mr. Carr in his\n\"Stranger in Ireland,\" there can be no doubt, I think, refers to the\nIrish wolf-dog. Mr. Carr says, that while on his journey to Ireland he\n\"wandered to a little church, which owed its elevation to the\nfollowing circumstance. Llewelyn the Great, who resided near the base\nof Snowdon, had a beautiful dog named Gelert, which had been presented\nto him by King John in 1205. One day, in consequence of the faithful\nanimal, which at night always 'sentinelled his master's bed,' not\nmaking his appearance in the chase, Llewelyn returned home very angry,\nand met the dog, covered with blood, at the door of the chamber of\nhis child. Upon entering it, he found the bed overturned, and the\ncoverlet stained with gore. He called to his boy; but receiving no\nanswer, he rashly concluded that he had been killed by Gelert, and in\nhis anguish instantly thrust his sword through the poor animal's body.\nThe Hon. Robert Spencer has beautifully told the remainder of the\nstory.\n\n   'His suppliant looks, as prone he fell,\n      No pity could impart;\n    But still his Gelert's dying yell\n      Passed heavy on his heart.\n\n    Arous'd by Gelert's dying yell,\n      Some slumb'rer waken'd nigh:\n    What words the parent's joy could tell,\n      To hear his infant's cry?\n\n    Nor scathe had he, nor harm, nor dread:\n      But the same couch beneath,\n    Lay a gaunt wolf all torn and dead,\n      Tremendous still in death.\n\n    Ah! what was then Llewelyn's pain?\n      For now the truth was clear:--\n    His gallant hound the wolf had slain,\n      To save Llewelyn's heir.'[F]\n\nIn order to mitigate his offence, Llewelyn built this chapel, and\nraised a tomb to poor Gelert; and the spot to this day is called\n_Beth-Gelert_, or the Grave of Gelert.\"\n\nI should not omit to mention, that in Mr. Windle's account of Cork,\nKerry, &c., there is the following notice of the wolf and Irish\nwolf-dog.\n\n\"The last wolf seen in Ireland was killed in the neighbourhood of\nAnnascuit, near Dingle, in 1710. The place is still known by the name\nof the Wolf's Step. The Irish called the wolf-dog _Sagh cliun_; and\nold Campion, speaking of the Irish, says, They are not without wolves,\nand greyhounds to hunt them bigger of bone and limne than a colt.\"\n\nThis noble animal is also described as \"similar in shape to a\ngreyhound, larger than a mastiff, and tractable as a spaniel.\"\n\nThe following fact will serve to prove that the deer-hound is\npossessed of a fine sense of smelling, a circumstance which has been\ndoubted by many persons.\n\nThe head keeper of Richmond Park is possessed of a famous old\ndeer-hound bitch, remarkable for her sagacity, and for having taken\nfive bucks in one day. After a battue in the Park in the winter of\n1845, he directed one of the under-keepers to examine the ground\ncarefully, which had been shot over the day before. He was accompanied\nby the old dog, who was to act as retriever. She came to a point in\none of the covers, as was her custom when she seemed to find a rabbit;\nbut the keeper, finding that it was a hare, called her off. After\ngoing some distance, the dog went back and pointed the hare a second\ntime. The keeper put her up, and then found that she had been wounded,\nhaving had her hind leg broken. Here the fine sense of smelling was\nthe more remarkable, as this old dog will not look at a hare, nor\nindeed can she be induced to run after one.\n\nOne of her progeny ran a wounded buck into the large pond in the Park,\nswam after it, killed it in the water, and then seizing it by the\nfoot, swam with it to the shore.\n\nHaving now given my reader all the information I can gather on this\ndog of bygone times, I will gratify him with a letter I have received\nfrom a lady whose name is dear to Ireland, and highly placed in the\nranks of English Literature:--\n\n    \"Dear Sir,\n\n    \"I am much flattered by your compliment to my national erudition,\n    a very scanty stock in my best of times, and now nearly used up,\n    in 'furnishing forth' the pages of many an idle tale, worked out\n    in the 'Irish Interest,' as the mouse nibbled at the lion's\n    net,--the same presumption, if not with the same results! However,\n    I will rub up my old '_Shannos_,' as Elizabeth said of her Latin,\n    and endeavour to recollect the little I have ever known on the\n    subject of the Irish wolf-dog.\n\n    \"Natural history is too much a matter of fact to have ever\n    interested the poetic temperament of the Irish; Schools of Poetry,\n    Heraldry, and Music, were opened (says the Irish historians),\n    'time immemorial.' St. Patrick found the Academies of Lismore\n    and Armagh in a flourishing condition, when he arrived on his\n    great mission; and the more modern College of Clonard (founded in\n    the fifth century by Bishop Finnan), had a great reputation for\n    its learning and learned professors. But it does not appear that\n    there was any Chair of Natural History or Philosophy in these\n    scholastic Seminaries. Their Transactions recorded the miracles of\n    saints rather than the miracles of nature. And had some daring\n    Cuvier, or enterprising Lyell or Murchison, opened those spacious\n    cabinets, once\n\n                 'In the deep bosom of the ocean buried,'\n\n    or entombed in mountain layers for unnumbered ages, the Druid\n    priests would probably have immolated the daring naturalist under\n    his highest oak. Is it quite sure that the Prior of Armagh, or the\n    founder of the Royal Academy of Clonard, the good Saint Finnan\n    himself, would have served them much better? Certain, however, it\n    is, that the Druids, Bards, Filiahs, Senachies and Saints of\n    Ireland, who left such mighty reputations behind them for\n    learning, have not dropped one word on the subject of the natural\n    history of their 'Isle of Song;' and though they may have dabbled\n    a little in that prosaic pursuit, they probably soon discovered\n    its perilous tendency, and sang with the last and most charming of\n    Irish Bards,--\n\n                          'No, Science, to you\n              We have long bade a last and careless adieu.'\n\n    \"Nearly two thousand years after the foundation of the most\n    learned Academies of Ireland, a pretty little Zoological Garden\n    was opened in the capital of the country; but no living type of\n    the Irish wolf-dog is to be found there, nor were any 'fossil\n    remains' of the noble animal discovered in the Wicklow Mines,[G]\n    which were worked some fifty years back, but which, for want of\n    capital or perseverance, only furnished a few Cronobane halfpence,\n    and materials for a musical farce to one of the most delightful\n    farcical Irish writers of his time;[H] for in Ireland,\n\n                       'Tout finis par un chanson,'\n\n    (as Figaro had it of the France of his age,) when worse results do\n    not follow disappointment.\n\n    \"The Irish wolf-dog, therefore, it may be asserted, belongs to the\n    poetical traditions of Ireland, or to its remote Milesian\n    histories. 'Gomer, the eldest son of Japhet, and others, the\n    immediate posterity of Noah, after the dispersion of mankind at\n    Babel, ventured (it is said), to 'commit themselves by ships upon\n    the sea,' to search out the unknown corners of the world, and thus\n    found out a western land called Ireland.'--(Dr. Warner.)\n\n    \"It is probable they were the first to disturb its tranquillity by\n    the introduction of wolves, a fragment of the menagerie of the\n    Ark; for all noxious and destructive animals and reptiles were\n    brought into Ireland by her invaders. The soil and clime of the\n    'woody Morven,' however, though not genial to their\n    naturalisation, was long a prey to one of the most ferocious\n    animals imported by foreign aggression to increase and multiply.\n    Ireland swarmed with wolves, and its colonists and aborigines\n    would in time have alike shared the fate of 'little Red Riding\n    Hood;' when, lo! up started the noble _Canis familiaris\n    Hibernicus_, which, greatly improved by a cross with the wolf\n    itself, was found everywhere in fierce antagonism with foreign\n    ferocity; and for his eminent services was not only speedily\n    adopted by patriot kings and heroes, as part of their courtly and\n    warlike parade, but sung by bards and immortalised by poets, as\n    worthy of such illustrious companionship. It is thus Bran, the\n    famous and beloved hound of Fingal, has become as immortal as his\n    master; and a track is still shown on a mountain in Tyrone, near\n    New Town Stuart, called 'The Track of the Foot of Bran, the Hound\n    of Fionne Mac Cumhall.' So much for poetry and tradition. Modern\n    naturalists, however, in their animal biography and prosaic view\n    of things, have assigned the introduction of the wolf-dog in\n    Ireland to the Danes, who brought it over in their first invasion;\n    and its resemblance to '_Le gros Danois_' of Buffon favours the\n    supposition. 'When Ireland swarmed with wolves,' says Pennant,\n    'these dogs were confined to the chase; but as soon as these\n    animals were extirpated, the number of the dogs decreased, and\n    from that period were kept chiefly for state.' Goldsmith mentions\n    having only seen in his time in Ireland one Irish wolf-hound that\n    was four feet high. And though the father of the late Marquis of\n    Sligo endeavoured to preserve the breed, his kennels in latter\n    years exhibited but a scanty specimen. These majestic and\n    beautiful animals are now, I believe, quite extinct in Ireland,\n    where their scarcity is accounted for by Mr. Pennant as 'the\n    consequence of the late King of Poland having procured from thence\n    by his agents as many as could be purchased.' The last notice\n    taken of the Irish wolf-dog in fictitious narrative may, I\n    believe, be found in one of my own national novels, 'O'Donnel,'\n    where the hero and his hound are first introduced to the reader\n    together. I borrowed the picture, as I gave it, from living\n    originals, which in my earliest youth struck forcibly on my\n    imagination, in the person of the celebrated Archibald Hamilton\n    Rowan, accompanied by his Irish hound Bran!\n\n    \"This is all I know or can recollect of my noble and beautiful\n    compatriot; but I remember that when some writer in 'Fraser's\n    Magazine' styled me 'that Irish she wolf-dog,' I felt complimented\n    by the epithet, since to attack the enemies of Ireland, and to\n    worry when they could not destroy them, was the peculiar\n    attribute of the species.\n\n                 \"I have the honour to be, dear Sir,\n\n                         \"Most truly yours,\n\n                                     \"SYDNEY MORGAN.\"\n\n    \"_William Street, Albert Gate._\"\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: NEWFOUNDLAND DOG.]\n\nTHE NEWFOUNDLAND DOG.\n\n    \"Nor will it less delight th' attentive sage,\n    T' observe that instinct which unerring guides\n    The brutal race, which mimics reason's lore,\n    And oft transcends.\n\n       *          *          *          *\n\n    The dog, whom nothing can mislead,\n    Must be a dog of parts indeed.\n    Is often wiser than his master.\"\n                                      SOMMERVILLE.\n\n\nThis noble dog may be justly styled the friend and guardian of his\nmaster. I had some doubts in making out my list of dogs, whether he\nought not to take precedence of all others; but, after duly weighing\nthe matter in my own mind, I have given the palm to the Irish\nwolf-hound, and the honest Newfoundland immediately follows him. I not\nonly think that this precedence will gratify some of my friends in\nIreland, who have called upon me to do justice to one of their\nfavourite and national emblems, but it is, perhaps, due in strict\njustice to an animal who proved himself so great a benefactor to his\nnative country. There is, moreover, such a degree of romance attached\nto the recollection of his fine qualities and imposing appearance,\nthat I should be sorry to lessen them by appearing to give the\npreference to any other dog. At the same time I may be allowed to add,\nthat I have seen such courage, perseverance, and fidelity in the\nNewfoundland dog, and am acquainted with so many well-authenticated\nfacts of his more than ordinary sense and utility, that I think him\nentitled to be considered as little inferior to the Irish wolf-dog.\n\nWhen we reflect on the docility of the Newfoundland dog, his\naffectionate disposition, his aptitude in receiving instruction, and\nhis instantaneous sense of impending danger, we shall no longer wonder\nat his being called the friend of his master, whom he is at all times\nready to defend at the risk of his own life. How noble is his\nappearance, and at the same time how serene is his countenance!\n\n   \"Sa fierte, sa beaute, sa jeunesse agreable\n    Le fit cherir de vous, et il est redoutable\n    A vos fiers ennemis par sa courage.\"\n\nNo animal, perhaps, can show more real courage than this dog. His\nperseverance in what he undertakes is so great, that he never\nrelinquishes an attempt which has been enjoined him as long as there\nis a chance of success. I allude more particularly to storms at sea\nand consequent shipwreck, when his services, his courage, and\nindefatigable exertions, have been truly wonderful. Numerous persons\nhave been saved from a watery grave by these dogs, and ropes have been\nconveyed by them from a sinking ship to the shore amidst foaming\nbillows, by which means whole crews have been saved from destruction.\nTheir feet are particularly well adapted to enable them to swim, being\nwebbed very much like those of a duck, and they are at all times ready\nto plunge into the water to save a human being from drowning. Some\ndogs delight in following a fox, others in hunting the hare, or\nkilling vermin. The delight of the Newfoundland dog appears to be in\nthe preservation of the lives of the human race. A story is related on\ngood authority of one of these dogs being in the habit, when he saw\npersons swimming in the Seine at Paris, of seizing them and bringing\nthem to the shore. In the immediate neighbourhood of Windsor a servant\nwas saved from drowning by a Newfoundland dog, who seized him by the\ncollar of his coat when he was almost exhausted, and brought him to\nthe banks, where some of the family were assembled watching with great\nanxiety the exertions of the noble animal.\n\nThose who were much at Windsor, not many years since, must have seen a\nfine Newfoundland dog, called Baby, reposing occasionally in front of\nthe White Hart Hotel. Baby was a general favourite, and he deserved to\nbe so; for he was mild in his disposition, brave as a lion, and very\nsensible. When he was thirsty, and could not procure water at the pump\nin the yard, he has frequently been seen to go to the stable, fetch an\nempty bucket, and stand with it in his mouth at the pump till some one\ncame for water. He then, by wagging his tail and expressive looks,\nmade his want known, and had his bucket filled. Exposed as Baby was to\nthe attacks of all sorts of curs, as he slumbered in the sun in front\nof the hotel, he seemed to think that a pat with his powerful paw was\nquite sufficient punishment for them, but he never tamely submitted to\ninsult from a dog approaching his own size, and his courage was only\nequalled by his gentleness.\n\nThe following anecdote, which is well authenticated, shows the\nsagacity as well as the kindliness of disposition of these dogs. In\nthe city of Worcester, one of the principal streets leads by a gentle\ndeclivity to the river Severn. One day a child, in crossing the\nstreet, fell down in the middle of it, and a horse and cart, which\nwere descending the hill, would have passed over it, had not a\nNewfoundland dog rushed to the rescue of the child, caught it up in\nhis mouth, and conveyed it in safety to the foot pavement.\n\nMy kind friend, Mr. T----, took a Newfoundland dog and a small spaniel\ninto a boat with him on the river Thames, and when he got into the\nmiddle of the river, he turned them into the water. They swam\ndifferent ways, but the spaniel got into the current, and after\nstruggling some time was in danger of being drowned. As soon as the\nNewfoundland dog perceived the predicament of his companion, he swam\nto his assistance, and brought him safe to the shore.\n\nA vessel went down in a gale of wind near Liverpool, and every one on\nboard perishes. A Newfoundland dog was seen swimming about the place\nwhere the vessel was lost for some time, and at last came on shore\nvery much exhausted. For three days he swam off to the same spot, and\nwas evidently trying to find his lost master, so strong was his\naffection.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI have always been pleased with that charming remark of Sir Edwin\nLandseer, that the Newfoundland dog was a \"distinguished Member of the\nHumane Society.\" How delightfully has that distinguished artist\nportrayed the character of dogs in his pictures! and what justice has\nhe done to their noble qualities! We see in them honesty, fidelity,\ncourage, and sense--no exaggeration--no flattery. He makes us feel\nthat his dogs will love us without selfishness, and defend us at the\nrisk of their own lives--that though friends may forsake us, they\nnever will--and that in misfortune, poverty, and death, their\naffection will be unchanged, and their gratitude unceasing. But to\nreturn to the Newfoundland dog, and we shall again find him acting his\npart as a Member of the Humane Society.\n\nA gentleman bathing in the sea at Portsmouth, was in the greatest\ndanger of being drowned. Assistance was loudly called for, but no boat\nwas ready, and though many persons were looking on, no one could be\nfound to go to his help. In this predicament, a Newfoundland dog\nrushed into the sea and conveyed the gentleman in safety to land. He\nafterwards purchased the dog for a large sum, treated him as long as\nhe lived with gratitude and kindness, and had the following words\nworked on his table-cloths and napkins--\"_Virum extuli mari_.\"\n\nA person, in crossing a plank at a mill, fell into the stream at\nnight, and was saved by his Newfoundland dog, and who afterwards\nrecovered his hat, which had fallen from his head, and was floating\ndown the stream.\n\nThere can be no doubt but that dogs calculate, and almost reason. A\ndog who had been in the habit of stealing from a kitchen, which had\ntwo doors opening into it, would never do so if one of them was shut,\nas he was afraid of being caught. If both the doors were open, his\nchance of escape was greater, and he therefore seized what he could.\nThis sort of calculation, if I may call it is so, was shown by a\nNewfoundland bitch. She had suckled two whelps until they were able to\ntake care of themselves. They were, however, constantly following and\ndisturbing her in order to be suckled, when she had little or no milk\nto give them. She was confined in a shed, which was separated from\nanother by a wooden partition some feet high. Into this shed she\nconveyed her puppies, and left them there while she returned to the\nother to enjoy a night's rest unmolested. This shows that the animal\nwas capable of reflecting to a degree beyond what would have been the\nresult of mere instinct.\n\nThe late Rev. James Simpson, of the Potterrow congregation, Edinburgh,\nhad a large dog of the Newfoundland breed. At that time he lived at\nLibberton, a distance of two miles from Edinburgh, in a house to which\nwas attached a garden. One Sacrament Sunday the servant, who was left\nat home in charge of the house, thought it a good opportunity to\nentertain her friends, as her master and mistress were not likely to\nreturn home till after the evening's service, about nine o'clock.\nDuring the day the dog accompanied them through the garden, and indeed\nwherever they went, in the most attentive manner, and seemed well\npleased. In the evening, when the time arrived that the party meant to\nseparate, they proceeded to do so; but the dog, the instant they went\nto the door, interposed, and placing himself before it, would not\nallow one of them to touch the handle. On their persisting and\nattempting to use force he became furious, and in a menacing manner\ndrove them back into the kitchen, where he kept them until the arrival\nof Mr. and Mrs. Simpson, who were surprised to find the party at so\nlate an hour, and more so to see the dog standing sentinel over them.\nBeing thus detected, the servant acknowledged the whole circumstance,\nwhen her friends were allowed to depart, after being admonished by the\nworthy divine in regard to the proper use of the Sabbath. They could\nnot but consider the dog as an instrument in the hand of Providence to\npoint out the impropriety of spending this holy day in feasting rather\nthan in the duties of religion.\n\nAfter the above circumstance, it became necessary for Mr. Simpson, on\naccount of his children's education, to leave his country residence,\nwhen he took a house in Edinburgh in a common stair. Speaking of this,\none day, to a friend who had visited him, he concluded that he would\nbe obliged to part with his dog, as he was too large an animal to be\nkept in such a house. The animal was present, and heard him say so,\nand must have understood what he meant, as he disappeared that\nevening, and was never afterwards heard of. These circumstances have\nbeen related to me by an elder of Mr. Simpson's congregation, who had\nthem from himself.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI am indebted to the late amiable Lord Stowell for the following\nanecdote, which has since been verified by Mr. Henry Wix, brother of\nthe archdeacon:--\n\nA Newfoundland dog belonging to Archdeacon Wix, which had never\nquitted the island, was brought over to London by him in January\n1834, and when he and his family landed at Blackwall the dog was left\non board the vessel. A few days afterwards the Archdeacon went from\nthe Borough side of the Thames in a boat to the vessel, which was then\nin St. Katherine's Docks, to see about his luggage, but did not intend\nat that time to take the dog from the ship; however, on his leaving\nthe vessel the dog succeeded in extricating himself from his\nconfinement, jumped overboard, and swam after the boat across the\nThames, followed his master into a counting-house on Gun-shot Wharf,\nTooley Street, and then over London Bridge and through the City to St.\nBartholomew's Hospital. The dog was shut within the square whilst the\nArchdeacon went into his father's house, and he then followed him on\nhis way to Russell Square, but strayed somewhere in Holborn; and as\nseveral gentlemen had stopped to admire him in the street, saying he\nwas worth a great deal of money, the Archdeacon concluded that some\ndog-stealer had enticed him away. He however wrote to the captain of\nthe vessel to mention his loss, and made inquiries on the following\nmorning at St. Bartholomew's Hospital, when he learnt that the dog had\ncome to the gates late in the evening, and howled most piteously for\nadmission, but was driven away. Two days afterwards the captain of the\nvessel waited on the Archdeacon with the dog, who had not only found\nhis way back to the water's edge, on the Borough side, but, what is\nmore surprising, swam across the Thames, where no scent could have\ndirected him, and found out the vessel in St. Katherine's Docks.\n\nThis sagacious and affectionate creature had, previous to his leaving\nNewfoundland, saved his master's life by directing his way home when\nlost in a snow-storm many miles from any shelter.\n\nThe dog was presented to the Archdeacon's uncle, Thomas Poynder, Esq.,\nClapham Common, in whose possession it continued until its death.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nEvery particular has been faithfully given of this extraordinary\noccurrence. Here we see a dog brought for the first time from\nNewfoundland, and who can scarcely be said to have put his feet on\nground in England, not only finding his way through a crowded city to\nthe banks of the river, but also finding the ship he wanted in that\nriver, and in which he evidently thought he should discover his lost\nmaster. It is an instance of sense of so peculiar a kind that it is\ndifficult to define it, or the faculty which enables animals to find\ntheir way to a place over ground which they had not previously\ntraversed.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA gentleman of Suffolk, on an excursion with his friend, was attended\nby a Newfoundland dog, which soon became the subject of conversation.\nThe master, after a warm eulogium upon the perfections of his canine\nfavourite, assured his companion that he would, upon receiving the\norder, return and fetch any article he should leave behind, from any\ndistance. To confirm this assertion, a marked shilling was put under a\nlarge square stone by the side of the road, being first shown to the\ndog. The gentlemen then rode for three miles, when the dog received\nhis signal from the master to return for the shilling he had seen put\nunder the stone. The dog turned back; the gentlemen rode on, and\nreached home; but to their surprise and disappointment the hitherto\nfaithful messenger did not return during the day. It afterwards\nappeared that he had gone to the place where the shilling was\ndeposited, but the stone being too large for his strength to remove,\nhe had stayed howling at the place till two horsemen riding by, and\nattracted by his seeming distress, stopped to look at him, when one of\nthem alighting, removed the stone, and seeing the shilling, put it\ninto his pocket, not at the time conceiving it to be the object of the\ndog's search. The dog followed their horses for twenty miles, remained\nundisturbed in the room where they supped, followed the chambermaid\ninto the bedchamber, and secreted himself under one of the beds. The\npossessor of the shilling hung his trousers upon a nail by the\nbed-side; but when the travellers were both asleep, the dog took them\nin his mouth, and leaping out of the window, which was left open on\naccount of the sultry heat, reached the house of his master at four\no'clock in the morning with the prize he had made free with, in the\npocket of which were found a watch and money, that were returned upon\nbeing advertised, when the whole mystery was mutually unravelled, to\nthe admiration of all the parties.[I]\n\nMany years ago, I saw a horse belonging to a quartermaster in the 1st\nDragoon Guards, when the regiment was quartered at Ipswich, find a\nshilling, which was covered with sawdust, in the riding-school at the\nCavalry Barracks at that place, and give it to his owner. I thought\nthis a wonderful instance of sagacity as well as docility, but how\nvery far does this fall short of the intellectual faculty of dogs! I\ndo not intend to assert that they are endowed with mental powers equal\nto those which the human race possess, but to contend that there is\nnot a faculty of the human mind of which some evident proofs of its\nexistence may not be found in dogs. Thus we find them possessed of\nmemory, imagination, the powers of imitation, curiosity, cunning,\nrevenge, ingenuity, gratitude, devotion, or affection, and other\nqualities. They are able to communicate their wants, their pleasures,\nand their pains, their apprehensions of danger, and their prospects of\nfuture good, by modulating their voices accordingly, and by\nsignificant gestures. They perfectly comprehend our wishes, and live\nwith us as friends and companions. When the fear of man and dread of\nhim were inflicted as a curse on the animal creation, the dog-kind\nalone seems an exception, and their sagacity and fidelity to the\nhuman race was an incalculable blessing bestowed upon them. These\nremarks are fully borne out in a very interesting article on the dog\nin the \"Quarterly Review\" of September, 1843.\n\nA fine, handsome, and valuable black dog of the Newfoundland species,\nbelonging to Mr. Floyd, solicitor, Holmfirth, committed suicide by\ndrowning itself in the river which flows at the back of its owner's\nhabitation. For some days previous the animal seemed less animated\nthan usual, but on this particular occasion he was noticed to throw\nhimself into the water and endeavour to sink by preserving perfect\nstillness of the legs and feet. Being dragged out of the stream, the\ndog was tied up for a time, but had no sooner been released than he\nagain hastened to the water and again tried to sink, and was again got\nout. This occurred many times, until at length the animal with\nrepeated efforts appeared to get exhausted, and by dint of keeping his\nhead determinedly under water for a few minutes succeeded at last in\nobtaining his object, for when taken out this time he was indeed dead.\nThe case is worth recording, as affording another proof of the general\ninstinct and sagacity of the canine race.\n\nMr. Nicol, late of Pall Mall, told me he saw an old foxhound\ndeliberately drown itself, and was ready to make oath of it.\n\nMrs. Kaye, residing opposite Windsor Park Wall, Datchet, had a\nbeautiful Newfoundland dog. For the convenience of the family a boat\nwas kept, that they might at times cross the water without the\ninconvenience of going a considerable way round to Datchet Bridge. The\ndog was so delighted with the aquatic trips, that he very rarely\npermitted the boat to go without him. It happened that the coachman,\nwho had been but little accustomed to the depths and shallows of the\nwater, intending a forcible push with the punt pole, which was not\nlong enough to reach the bottom, fell over the side of the boat in the\ndeepest part of the water, and in the central part of the current,\nwhich accident was observed by a part of the family then at the front\nwindows of the house; sudden and dreadful as the alarm was, they had\nthe consolation of seeing the sagacious animal instantaneously follow\nhis companion, when after diving, and making two or three abortive\nattempts, by laying hold of different parts of his apparel, which as\nrepeatedly gave way or overpowered his exertions, he then, with the\nmost determined and energetic fortitude, seized him by the arm, and\nbrought him to the edge of the bank, where the domestics of the\nterrified family were ready to assist in extricating him from his\nperilous situation.[J]\n\nI have mentioned that revenge had been shown by dogs, and the\nfollowing is an instance of it. A gentleman was staying at Worthing,\nwhere his Newfoundland dog was teased and annoyed by a small cur,\nwhich snapped and barked at him. This he bore, without appearing to\nnotice it, for some time; but at last the Newfoundland dog seemed to\nlose his usual patience and forbearance, and he one day, in the\npresence of several spectators, took the cur up by his back, swam with\nit into the sea, held it under the water, and would probably have\ndrowned it, had not a boat been put off and rescued it. There was\nanother instance communicated to me. A fine Newfoundland dog had been\nconstantly annoyed by a small spaniel. The former, seizing the\nopportunity when they were on a terrace under which a river flowed,\ntook up the spaniel in his mouth, and dropped it over the parapet into\nthe river.\n\nJukes, in his \"Excursions in and about Newfoundland,\" says, \"A thin,\nshort-haired black dog, belonging to George Harvey, came off to us\nto-day; this animal was of a breed very different from what we\nunderstand by the term Newfoundland dog in England. He had a thin\ntapering snout, a long thin tail, and rather thin but powerful legs,\nwith a lank body, the hair short and smooth. These are the most\nabundant dogs of the country, the long-haired curly dogs being\ncomparatively rare. They are by no means handsome, but are generally\nmore intelligent and useful than the others. This one caught his own\nfish; he sat on a projecting rock beneath a fish-lake or stage, where\nthe fish are laid to dry, watching the water, which had a depth of six\nor eight feet, the bottom of which was white with fish-bones. On\nthrowing a piece of codfish into the water, three or four heavy,\nclumsy-looking fish, called in Newfoundland sculpins, with great heads\nand mouths, and many spines about them, and generally about a foot\nlong, would swim in to catch it. These he would '_set_' attentively,\nand the moment one turned his broadside to him, he darted down like a\nfish-hawk, and seldom came up without the fish in his mouth. As he\ncaught them he carried them regularly to a place a few yards off,\nwhere he laid them down; and they told us that in the summer he would\nsometimes make a pile of fifty or sixty a-day just at that place. He\nnever attempted to eat them, but seemed to be fishing purely for his\nown amusement. I watched him for about two hours, and when the fish\ndid not come I observed he once or twice put his right foot in the\nwater, and paddled it about. This foot was white, and Harvey said he\ndid it to _toll_ or entice the fish; but whether it was for that\nspecific reason, or merely a motion of impatience, I could not exactly\ndecide.\"\n\nExtraordinary as the following anecdote may appear to some persons, it\nis strictly true, and strongly shows the sense, and I am almost\ninclined to add, reason of the Newfoundland dog.\n\nA friend of mine, while shooting wild fowl with his brother, was\nattended by a sagacious dog of this breed. In getting near some reeds\nby the side of a river, they threw down their hats, and crept to the\nedge of the water, when they fired at some birds. They soon afterwards\nsent the dog to bring their hats, one of which was smaller than the\nother. After several attempts to bring them both together in his\nmouth, the dog at last placed the smaller hat in the larger one,\npressed it down with his foot, and thus was able to bring them both at\nthe same time.\n\nA gentleman residing in Fifeshire, and not far from the city of St.\nAndrews, was in possession of a very fine Newfoundland dog, which was\nremarkable alike for its tractability and its trustworthiness. At two\nother points, each distant about a mile, and at the same distance from\nthis gentleman's mansion, there were two dogs of great power, but of\nless tractable breeds than the Newfoundland one. One of these was a\nlarge mastiff, kept as a watch-dog by a farmer, and the other a stanch\nbull-dog, that kept guard over the parish mill. As each of these three\nwas lord-ascendant of all animals at his master's residence, they all\nhad a good deal of aristocratic pride and pugnacity, so that two of\nthem seldom met without attempting to settle their respective\ndignities by a wager of battle.\n\nThe Newfoundland dog was of some service in the domestic arrangements,\nbesides his guardianship of the house; for every forenoon he was sent\nto the baker's shop in the village, about half-a-mile distant, with a\ntowel containing money in the corner, and he returned with the value\nof the money in bread. There were many useless and not over-civil curs\nin the village, as there are in too many villages throughout the\ncountry; but generally the haughty Newfoundland treated this ignoble\nrace in that contemptuous style in which great dogs are wont to\ntreat little ones. When the dog returned from the baker's shop, he\nused to be regularly served with his dinner, and went peaceably on\nhouse-duty for the rest of the day.\n\nOne day, however, he returned with his coat dirtied and his ears\nscratched, having been subjected to a combined attack of the curs\nwhile he had charge of his towel and bread, and so could not defend\nhimself. Instead of waiting for his dinner as usual, he laid down his\ncharge somewhat sulkily, and marched off; and, upon looking after him,\nit was observed that he was crossing the intervening hollow in a\nstraight line for the house of the farmer, or rather on an embassy to\nthe farmer's mastiff. The farmer's people noticed this unusual visit,\nwhich they were induced to do from its being a meeting of peace\nbetween those who had habitually been belligerents. After some\nintercourse, of which no interpretation could be given, the two set\noff together in the direction of the mill; and having arrived there,\nthey in brief space engaged the miller's bull-dog as an ally.\n\nThe straight road to the village where the indignity had been offered\nto the Newfoundland dog passed immediately in front of his master's\nhouse, but there was a more private and more circuitous road by the\nback of the mill. The three took this road, reached the village,\nscoured it in great wrath, putting to the tooth every cur they could\nget sight of; and having taken their revenge, and washed themselves in\na ditch, they returned, each dog to the abode of his master; and,\nwhen any two of them happened to meet afterwards, they displayed the\nsame pugnacity as they had done previous to this joint expedition.\n\nThere is a well-authenticated anecdote of two dogs at Donaghadee, in\nwhich the instinctive daring of the one by the other caused a\nfriendship, and, as it should seem, a kind of lamentation for the\ndead, after one of them had paid the debt of nature. This happened\nwhile the Government harbour or pier for the packets at Donaghadee was\nin the course of building, and it took place in the sight of several\nwitnesses. The one dog in this case was also a Newfoundland, and the\nother was a mastiff. They were both powerful dogs; and though each was\ngood-natured when alone, they were very much in the habit of fighting\nwhen they met. One day they had a fierce and prolonged battle on the\npier, from the point of which they both fell into the sea; and as the\npier was long and steep, they had no means of escape but by swimming a\nconsiderable distance. Throwing water upon fighting dogs is an\napproved means of putting an end to their hostilities; and it is\nnatural to suppose that two combatants of the same species tumbling\nthemselves into the sea would have the same effect. It had; and each\nbegan to make for the land as best he could. The Newfoundland being an\nexcellent swimmer, very speedily gained the pier, on which he stood\nshaking himself; but at the same time watching the motions of his late\nantagonist, which, being no swimmer, was struggling exhausted in the\nwater, and just about to sink. In dashed the Newfoundland dog, took\nthe other gently by the collar, kept his head above water, and brought\nhim safely on shore. There was a peculiar kind of recognition between\nthe two animals; they never fought again; they were always together:\nand when the Newfoundland dog had been accidentally killed by the\npassage of a stone waggon on the railway over him, the other\nlanguished and evidently lamented for a long time.\n\nA gentleman had a pointer and Newfoundland dog, which were great\nfriends. The former broke his leg, and was confined to a kennel.\nDuring that time the Newfoundland never failed bringing bones and\nother food to the pointer, and would sit for hours together by the\nside of his suffering friend.\n\nDuring a period of very hot weather, the Mayor of Plymouth gave orders\nthat all dogs found wandering in the public streets should be secured\nby the police, and removed to the prison-yard. Among them was a\nNewfoundland dog belonging to a shipowner of the port, who, with\nseveral others, was tied up in the yard. The Newfoundland soon gnawed\nthe rope which confined him, and then hearing the cries of his\ncompanions to be released, he set to work to gnaw the ropes which\nconfined them, and had succeeded in three or four instances, when he\nwas interrupted by the entrance of the jailor.\n\nA nearly similar case has frequently occurred in the Cumberland\nGardens, Windsor Great Park. Two dogs of the Newfoundland breed were\nconfined in kennels at that place. When one of them was let loose, he\nhas been frequently seen to set his companion free.\n\nA boatman once plunged into the water to swim with another man for a\nwager. His Newfoundland dog, mistaking the purpose, and supposing that\nhis master was in danger, plunged after him, and dragged him to the\nshore by his hair, to the great diversion of the spectators.\n\nMr. Peter Macarthur informs me, that in the year 1821, when opposite\nto Falmouth, he was at breakfast with a gentleman, when a large\nNewfoundland dog, all dripping with water, entered the room, and laid\na newspaper on the table. The gentleman (who was one of the Society of\nFriends) informed the party, that this dog swam regularly across the\nferry every morning, and went to the post-office, and fetched the\npapers of the day.\n\nMr. Blaine, in his \"Encyclopaedia of Rural Sports,\" tells the following\nstory:--A Newfoundland dog, of the small, smooth-haired variety, in\ncoming to England from his native country, was washed overboard during\na tempestuous night. As daylight appeared the gale ceased, when a\nsailor at the mast-head descried something far in the wake of the\nvessel, which, by the help of his glass, he was led to believe was the\ndog, which was so great a favourite with the crew that it was\nunanimously requested of the captain of the vessel to _lie to_, and\nwait for the chance of saving the poor brute. The captain, who had\nprobably lost some time already by the storm, peremptorily refused to\nlisten to the humane proposal. Whether it was the kindly feeling of\nthe sailors, or the superstitious dread that if the dog were suffered\nto perish nothing would afterwards prosper with them, we are not\ninformed; but we do know that, as soon as a refusal was made, the\nsteersman left the helm, roundly asserting that he for one would never\nlend a hand to steer away from either Christian or brute in distress.\nThe feeling was immediately caught by the rest of the crew, and\nmaintained so resolutely, that the captain was forced to accede to the\ngeneral wish; and the poor dog eventually reached the ship in safety,\nafter having been, as we were informed, and implicitly believe, some\nhours in a tempestuous sea.\n\nBewick mentions an instance which shows the extraordinary sagacity of\nthese dogs.\n\nIn a severe storm, a ship was lost off Yarmouth, and no living\ncreature escaped, except a Newfoundland dog, which swam to the shore\nwith the captain's pocket-book in his mouth. Several of the bystanders\nattempted to take it from him, but he would not part with it. At\nlength, selecting one person from the crowd, whose appearance probably\npleased him, he leaped against his breast in a fawning manner, and\ndelivered the book to his care.\n\nAfter mentioning this anecdote it will not be displeasing to read Lord\nGrenville's lines on his faithful Newfoundland, as they may now be\nseen at Dropmore, with the translation of them:--\n\n                        TIPPO.\n\n                       IN VILLA.\n\n    Tippo ego hic jaceo, lapidem ne sperne, viator,\n      Qui tali impositus stat super ossa cani.\n    Larga mi natura manu dedit omnia, nostrum\n      Quaecunque exornant nobilitantque genus:\n    Robur erat validum, formae concinna venustas,\n      Ingenui mores, intemerata fides.\n    Nec pudet invisi nomen gessisse tyranni,\n      Si tam dissimili viximus ingenio.\n    Naufragus in nuda Tenbeiae[K] ejectus arena,\n      Ploravi domino me superesse meo,\n    Quem mihi, luctanti frustra, frustraque juvanti,\n      Abreptum, oceani in gurgite mersit hyems.\n    Solus ego sospes, sed quas miser ille tabellas\n      Morte mihi in media credidit, ore ferens.\n    Dulci me hospitio Belgae excepere coloni,\n      Ipsa etiam his olim gens aliena plagis;\n    Et mihi gratum erat in longa spatiarier[L] ora,\n      Et quanquam infido membra lavare mari;\n    Gratum erat aestivis puerorum adjungere turmis\n      Participem lusus me, comitemque viae.\n    Verum ubi, de multis captanti frustula mensis,\n      Bruma aderat, seniique hora timenda mei,\n    Insperata adeo illuxit fortuna, novique\n      Perfugium et requiem cura dedit domini.\n    Exinde hos saltus, haec inter florea rura,\n      Et vixi felix, et tumulum hunc habeo.\n\n                        TIPPO.\n\n_Translated by a young Lady, a near Relation of the Author._\n\n    Here, stranger, pause, nor view with scornful eyes\n    The stone which marks where faithful Tippo lies.\n    Freely kind Nature gave each liberal grace,\n    Which most ennobles and exalts our race,\n    Excelling strength and beauty joined in me,\n    Ingenuous worth, and firm fidelity.\n    Nor shame I to have borne a tyrant's name,\n    So far unlike to his my spotless fame.\n    Cast by a fatal storm on Tenby's coast,\n    Reckless of life, I wailed my master lost.\n    Whom long contending with the o'erwhelming wave\n    In vain with fruitless love I strove to save.\n    I, only I, alas! surviving bore,\n    His dying trust, his tablets,[M] to the shore.\n    Kind welcome from the Belgian race I found,\n    Who, once in times remote, to British ground\n    Strangers like me came from a foreign strand.\n    I loved at large along the extended sand\n    To roam, and oft beneath the swelling wave,\n    Tho' known so fatal once, my limbs to lave;\n    Or join the children in their summer play,\n    First in their sports, companion of their way.\n    Thus while from many a hand a meal I sought,\n    Winter and age had certain misery brought;\n    But Fortune smiled, a safe and blest abode\n    A new-found master's generous love bestowed,\n    And midst these shades, where smiling flow'rets bloom,\n    Gave me a happy life and honoured tomb.\n\nDr. Abell, in one of his lectures on phrenology, related a very\nstriking anecdote of a Newfoundland dog at Cork. This dog was of a\nnoble and generous disposition, and when he left his master's house\nwas often assailed by a number of little noisy dogs in the street. He\nusually passed them with apparent unconcern, as if they were beneath\nhis notice. One little cur, however, was particularly troublesome, and\nat length carried his petulance so far as to bite the Newfoundland dog\nin the back of his foot. This was too much to be patiently endured. He\ninstantly turned round, ran after the offender, and seized him by the\nskin of his back. In this way he carried him in his mouth to the quay,\nand holding him some time over the water, at length dropped him into\nit. He did not seem, however, to wish to punish the culprit too much,\nfor he waited a little while the poor animal, who was unused to that\nelement, was not only well ducked, but near sinking, when he plunged\nin himself, and brought the other safe to land.\n\nAn officer, late in the 15th Hussars, informed me that he had\nwitnessed a similar occurrence at St. Petersburg. These certainly are\ninstances of a noble and generous disposition, as well as of great\nforbearance in not resenting an injury.\n\nI may add the following instance of sagacity from the same quarter.\n\nA vessel was driven by a storm on the beach of Lydd, in Kent. The surf\nwas rolling furiously. Eight men were calling for help, but not a boat\ncould be got off to their assistance. At length a gentleman came on\nthe beach, accompanied by his Newfoundland dog. He directed the\nattention of the noble animal to the vessel, and put a short stick\ninto his mouth. The intelligent and courageous dog at once understood\nhis meaning, and sprung into the sea, fighting his way through the\nfoaming waves. He could not, however, get close enough to the vessel\nto deliver that with which he was charged, but the crew joyfully made\nfast a rope to another piece of wood, and threw it towards him. The\nsagacious dog saw the whole business in an instant; he dropped his own\npiece, and immediately seized that which had been cast to him; and\nthen, with a degree of strength and determination almost incredible,\nhe dragged it through the surge and delivered it to his master. By\nthis means a line of communication was formed, and every man on board\nsaved.\n\nThe keeper of a ferry on the banks of the Severn had a sagacious\nNewfoundland dog. If a dog was left behind by his owner in crossing,\nand was afraid of taking to the water, the Newfoundland dog has been\nfrequently known to take the yelping animal in his mouth and convey it\ninto the river. A person while rowing a boat, pushed his Newfoundland\ndog into the stream. The animal followed the boat for some time, till,\nprobably finding himself fatigued, he endeavoured to get into it by\nplacing his feet on the side. His owner repeatedly pushed the dog\naway, and in one of his efforts to do so he overbalanced himself and\nfell into the river, and would probably have been drowned, had not the\nnoble and generous animal immediately seized and held him above water\ntill assistance arrived from the shore.\n\nAbout twelve years ago a fine dog of a cross-breed, between a\nNewfoundland and a pointer, had been left by the captain of a vessel\nin the care of Mr. Park, of the White Hart Inn, Greenock. A friend of\nhis, a gentleman from Argyllshire, took a fancy to this dog; and, when\nreturning home, requested the loan of him for some time from Mr. Park,\nwhich he granted. This gentleman had some time before married a lady\nmuch to the dissatisfaction of his friends, who, in consequence,\ntreated her with some degree of coldness and neglect. While he\nremained at home, the dog constantly attended him, and paid no\napparent attention to the lady, who, on her part, never evinced any\nparticular partiality for the dog. One time, however, the gentleman\nwas called from home on business, and was to be absent several days.\nHe wished to take the dog with him; but no entreaties could induce him\nto follow. The animal was then tied up to prevent his leaving the\nhouse in his absence; but he became quite furious till he was\nreleased, when he flew into the house and found his mistress, and\nwould not leave her. He watched at the door of whatever room she was\nin, and would allow no one to approach without her special permission.\nWhen the gentleman returned home, the dog seemed to take no more\nnotice of the lady, but returned quietly to his former lodging in the\nstable. The whole circumstance caused considerable surprise; and the\ngentleman, wishing to try if the dog would again act in the same\nmanner, left home for a day or two, when the animal actually resumed\nthe faithful guardianship of his mistress as before; and this he\ncontinued to do whenever his master was absent, all the time he\nremained in his possession, which was two years.\n\nThe following anecdotes of an astonishing dog called Dandie are\nrelated by Captain Brown:--\n\n\"Mr. M'Intyre, patent-mangle manufacturer, Regent Bridge, Edinburgh,\nhas a dog of the Newfoundland breed, crossed with some other, named\nDandie, whose sagacious qualifications are truly astonishing and\nalmost incredible. As the animal continues daily to give the most\nstriking proofs of his powers, he is well known in the neighbourhood,\nand any person may satisfy himself of the reality of those feats, many\nof which the writer has himself had the pleasure to witness.\n\n\"When Mr. M'Intyre is in company, how numerous soever it may be, if he\nbut say to the dog, 'Dandie, bring me my hat,' he immediately picks\nout the hat from all the others, and puts it in his master's hand.\n\n\"Should every gentleman in company throw a penknife on the floor, the\ndog, when commanded, will select his master's knife from the heap, and\nbring it to him.\n\n\"A pack of cards being scattered in the room, if his master have\npreviously selected one of them, the dog will find it out and bring it\nto him.\n\n\"A comb was hid on the top of a mantel-piece in the room, and the dog\nrequired to bring it, which he almost immediately did, although in the\nsearch he found a number of articles, also belonging to his master,\npurposely strewed around, all which he passed over, and brought the\nidentical comb which he was required to find, fully proving that he is\nnot guided by the sense of smell, but that he perfectly understands\nwhatever is spoken to him.\n\n\"One evening, some gentlemen being in company, one of them\naccidentally dropped a shilling on the floor, which, after the most\ncareful search, could not be found. Mr. M'Intyre seeing his dog\nsitting in a corner, and looking as if quite unconscious of what was\npassing, said to him, 'Dandie, find us the shilling, and you shall\nhave a biscuit.' The dog immediately jumped upon the table and laid\ndown the shilling, which he had previously picked up without having\nbeen perceived.\n\n\"One time, having been left in a room in the house of Mrs. Thomas,\nHigh Street, he remained quiet for a considerable time; but as no one\nopened the door, he became impatient, and rang the bell; and when the\nservant opened the door, she was surprised to find the dog pulling the\nbell-rope. Since that period, which was the first time he was observed\nto do it, he pulls the bell whenever he is desired; and what appears\nstill more remarkable, if there is no bell-rope in the room, he will\nexamine the table, and if he finds a hand-bell, he takes it in his\nmouth and rings it.\n\n\"Mr. M'Intyre having one evening supped with a friend, on his return\nhome, as it was rather late, he found all the family in bed. He could\nnot find his boot-jack in the place where it usually lay, nor could he\nfind it anywhere in the room after the strictest search. He then said\nto his dog, 'Dandie, I cannot find my bootjack; search for it.' The\nfaithful animal, quite sensible of what had been said to him,\nscratched at the room-door, which his master opened. Dandie proceeded\nto a very distant part of the house, and soon returned, carrying in\nhis mouth the bootjack, which Mr. M. now recollected to have left that\nmorning under a sofa.\n\n\"A number of gentlemen, well acquainted with Dandie, are daily in the\nhabit of giving him a penny, which he takes to a baker's shop and\npurchases bread for himself. One of these gentlemen, who lives in\nJames's Square, when passing some time ago, was accosted by Dandie, in\nexpectation of his usual present. Mr. T---- then said to him, 'I have\nnot a penny with me to-day, but I have one at home.' Having returned\nto his house some time after, he heard a noise at the door, which was\nopened by the servant, when in sprang Dandie to receive his penny. In\na frolic Mr. T---- gave him a bad one, which he, as usual, carried to\nthe baker, but was refused his bread, as the money was bad. He\nimmediately returned to Mr. T----'s, knocked at the door, and when the\nservant opened it, laid the penny down at her feet, and walked off,\nseemingly with the greatest contempt.\n\n\"Although Dandie, in general, makes an immediate purchase of bread\nwith the money which he receives, yet the following circumstance\nclearly demonstrates that he possesses more prudent foresight than\nmany who are reckoned rational beings.\n\n\"One Sunday, when it was very unlikely that he could have received a\npresent of money, Dandie was observed to bring home a loaf. Mr.\nM'Intyre being somewhat surprised at this, desired the servant to\nsearch the room to see if any money could be found. While she was\nengaged in this task, the dog seemed quite unconcerned till she\napproached the bed, when he ran to her, and gently drew her back from\nit. Mr. M. then secured the dog, which kept struggling and growling\nwhile the servant went under the bed, where she found 71/2_d._ under a\nbit of cloth; but from that time he never could endure the girl, and\nwas frequently observed to hide his money in a corner of a saw-pit,\nunder the dust.\n\n\"When Mr. M. has company, if he desire the dog to see any one of the\ngentlemen home, it will walk with him till he reach his home, and then\nreturn to his master, how great soever the distance may be.\n\n\"A brother of Mr. M.'s and another gentleman went one day to Newhaven,\nand took Dandie along with them. After having bathed, they entered a\ngarden in the town; and having taken some refreshment in one of the\narbours, they took a walk around the garden, the gentleman leaving his\nhat and gloves in the place. In the meantime some strangers came into\nthe garden, and went into the arbour which the others had left. Dandie\nimmediately, without being ordered, ran to the place and brought off\nthe hat and gloves, which he presented to the owner. One of the\ngloves, however, had been left; but it was no sooner mentioned to the\ndog than he rushed to the place, jumped again into the midst of the\nastonished company, and brought off the glove in triumph.\n\n\"A gentleman living with Mr. M'Intyre, going out to supper one\nevening, locked the garden-gate behind him, and laid the key on the\ntop of the wall, which is about seven feet high. When he returned,\nexpecting to let himself in the same way, to his great surprise the\nkey could not be found, and he was obliged to go round to the front\ndoor, which was a considerable distance about. The next morning strict\nsearch was made for the key, but still no trace of it could be\ndiscovered. At last, perceiving that the dog followed him wherever he\nwent, he said to him, 'Dandie, you have the key--go, fetch it.' Dandie\nimmediately went into the garden and scratched away the earth from the\nroot of a cabbage, and produced the key, which he himself had\nundoubtedly hid in that place.\n\n\"If his master place him on a chair, and request him to sing, he will\ninstantly commence a howling, which he gives high or low as signs are\nmade to him with the finger.\n\n\"About three years ago a mangle was sent by a cart from the warehouse,\nRegent Bridge, to Portobello, at which time the dog was not present.\nAfterwards, Mr. M. went to his own house, North Back of the Canongate,\nand took Dandie with him, to have the mangle delivered. When he had\nproceeded a little way the dog ran off, and he lost sight of him. He\nstill walked forward; and in a little time he found the cart in which\nthe mangle was, turned towards Edinburgh, with Dandie holding fast by\nthe reins, and the carter in the greatest perplexity; the man stated\nthat the dog had overtaken him, jumped on his cart, and examined the\nmangle, and then had seized the reins of the horse and turned him\nfairly round, and that he would not let go his hold, although he had\nbeaten him with a stick. On Mr. M.'s arrival, however, the dog quietly\nallowed the carter to proceed to his place of destination.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe following is another instance of extraordinary sagacity. A\nNewfoundland dog, belonging to a grocer, had observed one of the\nporters of the house, and who was often in the shop, frequently take\nmoney from the till, and which the man was in the habit of concealing\nin the stable. The dog, having witnessed these thefts, became\nrestless, pulling persons by the skirts of their coats, and\napparently wishing them to follow him. At length, an apprentice had\noccasion to go to the stable; the dog followed him, and having drawn\nhis attention to the heap of rubbish under which the money was buried,\nbegan to scratch till he had brought the booty to view. The apprentice\nbrought it to his master, who marked the money and restored it to the\nplace where it had been hidden. Some of the marked money was soon\nafterwards found on the porter, who was taken before a magistrate, and\nconvicted of the theft.\n\nA Newfoundland dog, which was frequently to be seen in a tavern in the\nHigh Street of Glasgow, lay generally at the door. When any person\ncame to the house, he trotted before them into an apartment, rang the\nbell, and then resumed his station at the door.\n\nThe great utility and sagacity of the Newfoundland dog, in cases of\ndrowning, were shown in the following instance. Eleven sailors, a\nwoman, and the waterman, had reached a sloop of war in Hamoaze in a\nshore-boat. One of the sailors, stooping rather suddenly over the side\nof the boat to reach his hat, which had fallen into the sea, the boat\ncapsized, and they were all plunged into the water. A Newfoundland\ndog, on the quarter-deck of the sloop, seeing the accident, instantly\nleaped amongst the unfortunate persons, and seizing one man by the\ncollar of his coat, he supported his head above water until a boat had\nhastened to the spot and saved the lives of all but the waterman.\nAfter delivering his burden in safety, the noble animal made a wide\ncircuit round the ship in search of another person; but not finding\none, he took up an oar in his mouth which was floating away, and\nbrought it to the side of the ship.\n\nA sailor, attended by a Newfoundland dog, became so intoxicated, that\nhe fell on the pavement in Piccadilly, and was unable to rise, and\nsoon fell asleep. The faithful dog took a position at his master's\nhead, and resisted every attempt made to remove him. The man, having\nat last slept off the fumes of his intoxicating libations, awoke, and\nbeing told of the care his dog had taken of him, exclaimed, \"This is\nnot the first time he has kept watch over me.\"\n\nOn Thursday evening, January 28, 1858, as the play of \"Jessie Vere\"\nwas being performed at Woolwich Theatre, and when a scene in the third\nact had been reached, in which a \"terrific struggle\" for the\npossession of a child takes place between the fond mother and two\n\"hired ruffians,\" a large Newfoundland dog, which had by some means\ngained admittance with its owner into the pit, leaped over the heads\nof the musicians in the orchestra, and flew to the rescue, seizing one\nof the assassins, and almost dragging him to the ground. It was with\ndifficulty removed, and dragged off the stage. The dog, which is the\nproperty of the chief engineer of Her Majesty's ship Buffalo, has been\nhabitually accustomed to the society of children, for whom he has on\nmany occasions evinced strong proofs of affection.\n\nMr. Bewick, in his history of Quadrupeds, mentions some instances of\nthe sagacity and intellect of Newfoundland dogs; and it may not be\nuninteresting to the admirers of that celebrated wood-engraver to be\ninformed, on the authority of his daughters, that the group on the\nbridge in his print of the Newfoundland dog represents Mr. Preston, a\nPrinter of Newcastle, Mr. Vint, of Whittingham, Mr. Bell, House\nSteward, and Mr. Bewick. Their initials, P. V. B. and B., are\nintroduced in the woodcut. The dog was drawn at Eslington, the seat of\nMr. Liddell, the eldest son of Lord Ravensworth.[N]\n\nIn Newfoundland, this dog is invaluable, and answers the purpose of a\nhorse. He is docile, capable of strong attachment, and is easy to\nplease in the quality of his food, as he will live on scraps of boiled\nfish, either salted or fresh, and on boiled potatoes and cabbage. The\nnatural colour of this dog is black, with the exception of a very few\nwhite spots. Their sagacity is sometimes so extraordinary, as on many\noccasions to show that they only want the faculty of speech to make\nthemselves fully understood.\n\nThe Rev. L. Anspach, in his history of the Island of Newfoundland,\nmentions some instances of this intelligence.\n\nOne of the Magistrates of Harbour-Grace, the late Mr. Garland, had an\nold dog, which was in the habit of carrying a lantern before his\nmaster at night, as steadily as the most attentive servant could do;\nstopping short when his master made a stop, and proceeding when he saw\nhim disposed to follow him. If his master was absent from home, on the\nlantern being fixed to his mouth, and the command given, \"Go, fetch\nyour master,\" he would immediately set off and proceed directly to the\ntown, which lay at the distance of more than a mile from the place of\nhis master's residence. He would then stop at the door of every house\nwhich he knew his master was in the habit of frequenting, and, laying\ndown his lantern, would growl and strike the door, making all the\nnoise in his power until it was opened. If his master was not there,\nhe would proceed further until he had found him. If he accompanied him\nonly once into a house, it was sufficient to induce him to take that\nhouse in his round.\n\nThe principal use of this animal in Newfoundland, in addition to his\nqualities as a good watch-dog and a faithful companion, is to assist\nin fetching from the woods the _lumber_ intended either for repairing\nthe fish stages, or for fuel; and this is done by dragging it on the\nsnow or ice, or else on sledges, the dog being tackled to it.\n\nThese animals bark only when strongly provoked. They are not\nquarrelsome, but treat the smaller species with a great degree of\npatience and forbearance. They will defend their masters on seeing the\nleast appearance of an attack on his person. The well-known partiality\nof these dogs for the water, in which they appear as if in their\nproper element, diving and keeping their heads under the surface for a\nconsiderable time, seems to give them some connexion with the class of\namphibious animals. At the same time, the several instances of their\nsuperior sagacity, and the essential services which they have been\nfrequently known to render to humanity, give them a distinguished rank\nin the scale of the brute creation. I will mention another instance of\nthis.\n\nThe Durham packet of Sunderland was, in 1815, wrecked near Clay, in\nNorfolk. A faithful dog was employed to use his efforts to carry the\nlead-line on shore from the vessel; but there being a very heavy sea,\nand a deep beach, it appeared that the drawback of the surf was too\npowerful for the animal to contend with. Mr. Parker, ship-builder, of\nWells, and Mr. Jackson, jun., of Clay, who were on the spot, observing\nthis, instantly rushed into the sea, which was running very high, and\ngallantly succeeded, though at a great risk, in catching hold of the\ndog, which was much exhausted, but which had all this time kept the\nline in his mouth. The line being thus obtained, a communication with\nthe vessel was established; and a warp being passed from the ship to\nthe shore, the lives of all on board, nine in number, including two\nchildren, were saved.\n\nSome dogs are of an extremely jealous disposition; and the following\nextraordinary instance of it was communicated to me by Mr. Charles\nDavis, the well-known and highly-respected huntsman of Her Majesty's\nstag-hounds, a man who has gained many friends, and perhaps never lost\none, by his well-regulated conduct and sporting qualifications.\n\nHe informed me that a friend of his had a fine Newfoundland dog, which\nwas a great favourite with the family. While this dog was confined in\nthe yard, a pet lamb was given to one of the children, which the\nformer soon discovered to be sharing a great portion of those caresses\nwhich he had been in the habit of receiving. This circumstance\nproduced so great an effect on the poor animal, that he refused to\neat, and fretted till he became extremely unwell. Thinking that\nexercise might be of use to him, he was let loose. No sooner was this\ndone, than the dog watched his opportunity, and seized the lamb in his\nmouth. He was seen conveying it down a lane, about a quarter of a mile\nfrom his master's house, at the bottom of which the river Thames\nflowed. On arriving at it, he held the lamb under water till it was\ndrowned, and thus effectually got rid of his rival. On examining the\nlamb, it did not appear to have been bitten, or otherwise injured; and\nit might almost be supposed that the dog had chosen the easiest death\nin removing the object of his dislike.\n\nThe sense of these animals is, indeed, perfectly wonderful. A\nlieutenant in the navy informed me, that while his ship was under sail\nin the Mediterranean, a favourite canary bird escaped from its cage,\nand flew into the sea. A Newfoundland dog on board witnessed the\ncircumstance, immediately jumped into the sea, and swam to the bird,\nwhich he seized in his mouth, and then swam back with it to the ship.\nOn arriving on board and opening the dog's mouth, it was found that\nthe bird was perfectly uninjured, so tenderly had it been treated, as\nthough the dog had been aware that the slightest pressure would have\ndestroyed it.\n\nMr. Youatt, whose remarks on the usefulness and good qualities of the\ninferior animals, in his work on Humanity to Brutes, do him so much\ncredit, gives the following anecdote as a proof of the reasoning power\nof a Newfoundland dog.\n\nWanting one day to go through a tall iron gate, from one part of his\npremises to another, he found a lame puppy lying just within it, so\nthat he could not get in without rolling the poor animal over, and\nperhaps injuring it. Mr. Youatt stood for awhile hesitating what to\ndo, and at length determined to go round through another gate. A fine\nNewfoundland dog, however, who had been waiting patiently for his\nwonted caresses, and perhaps wondering why his master did not get in\nas usual, looked accidentally down at his lame companion. He\ncomprehended the whole business in a moment--put down his great paw,\nand as gently and quickly as possible rolled the invalid out of the\nway, and then drew himself back in order to leave room for the opening\nof the gate.\n\nWe may be inclined to deny reasoning faculties to dogs; but if this\nwas not reason, it may be difficult to define what else it could be.\n\nMr. Youatt also says, that his own experience furnishes him with an\ninstance of the memory and gratitude of a Newfoundland dog, who was\ngreatly attached to him. He says, as it became inconvenient to him to\nkeep the dog, he gave him to one who he knew would treat him kindly.\nFour years passed, and he had not seen him; when one day, as he was\nwalking towards Kingston, and had arrived at the brow of the hill\nwhere Jerry Abershaw's gibbet then stood, he met Carlo and his master.\nThe dog recollected Mr. Youatt in a moment, and they made much of each\nother. His master, after a little chat, proceeded towards Wandsworth,\nand Carlo, as in duty bound, followed him. Mr. Youatt had not,\nhowever, got half-way down the hill when the dog was again at his\nside, lowly but deeply growling, and every hair bristling. On looking\nabout, he saw two ill-looking fellows making their way through the\nbushes, which occupied the angular space between Roehampton and\nWandsworth roads. Their intention was scarcely questionable, and,\nindeed, a week or two before, he had narrowly escaped from two\nmiscreants like them. \"I can scarcely say,\" proceeds Mr. Youatt, \"what\nI felt; for presently one of the scoundrels emerged from the bushes,\nnot twenty yards from me; but he no sooner saw my companion, and heard\nhis growling, the loudness and depth of which were fearfully\nincreasing, than he retreated, and I saw no more of him or of his\nassociate. My gallant defender accompanied me to the direction-post at\nthe bottom of the hill, and there, with many a mutual and honest\ngreeting, we parted, and he bounded away to overtake his rightful\nowner. We never met again; but I need not say that I often thought of\nhim with admiration and gratitude.\"\n\nIt is pleasing to record such instances of kindness in a brute. Here\nwe see a recollection of, and gratitude for, previous good treatment,\nand that towards one whom the dog had not seen for four years. There\nis a sort of bewilderment in the human mind, when we come to analyse\nthe feelings, affections, and peculiar instinctive faculties of dogs.\nA French writer (Mons. Blaze) has asserted, that the dog most\nundoubtedly has all the qualities of a man possessed of good feeling,\nand adds that man has not the fine qualities of the dog. We make a\nvirtue of that gratitude which is nothing more than a duty incumbent\nupon us, while it is an inherent quality in the dog.\n\n    \"Canis gratus est, et amicitiae memor.\"\n\nWe repudiate ingratitude, and yet every one is more or less guilty of\nit. Indeed, where shall we find the man who is free from it? Take,\nhowever, the first dog you meet with, and the moment he has adopted\nyou for his master, from that moment you are sure of his gratitude\nand affection. He will love you without calculating what he shall gain\nby it--his greatest pleasure will be to be near you--and should you be\nreduced to beg your bread, no poverty will induce him to abandon you.\nYour friends may, and probably will, do so--the object of your love\nand attachment will not, perhaps, like to encounter poverty with you.\nYour wife, by some possibility (it is a rare case, however, if she has\nreceived kind treatment) may forget her vows, but your dog will never\nleave you--he will either die at your feet, or if he should survive\nyou, will accompany you to the grave.\n\nAn intelligent correspondent, to whom I am indebted for some sensible\nremarks on the faculties of dogs, has remarked that large-headed dogs\nare generally possessed of superior faculties to others. This fact\nfavours the phrenological opinion that size of brain is evidence of\nsuperior power. He has a dog possessing a remarkably large head, and\nfew dogs can match him in intelligence. He is a cross with the\nNewfoundland breed, and besides his cleverness in the field as a\nretriever, he shows his sagacity at home in the performance of several\nuseful feats. One consists in carrying messages. If a neighbour is to\nbe communicated with, the dog is always ready to be the bearer of a\nletter. He will take orders to the workmen who reside at a short\ndistance from the house, and will scratch impatiently at their door\nwhen so employed, although at other times, desirous of sharing the\nwarmth of their kitchen fire, he would wait patiently, and then\nentering with a seriousness befitting the imagined importance of his\nmission, would carefully deliver the note, never returning without\nhaving discharged his trust. His usefulness in recovering articles\naccidentally lost has often been proved. As he is not always allowed\nto be present at dinner, he will bring a hat, book, or anything he can\nfind, and hold it in his mouth as a sort of apology for his intrusion.\nHe seems pleased at being allowed to lead his master's horse to the\nstable.\n\nNewfoundland dogs may readily be taught to rescue drowning persons. In\nFrance, this forms a part of their education, and they are now kept in\nreadiness on the banks of the Seine, where they form a sort of Humane\nSociety Corps. By throwing the stuffed figure of a man into a river,\nand requiring the dog to fetch it out, he is soon taught to do so when\nnecessary, and thus he is able to rescue drowning persons. This hint\nmight not be thrown away on our own excellent Humane Society.\n\nMany dogs are called of the Newfoundland breed who have but small\nrelationship with that sensible animal. The St. John's and Labrador\ndogs are also very different from each other. The former is strong in\nhis limbs, rough-haired, small in the head, and carries his tail very\nhigh. The other, by far the best for every kind of shooting, is\noftener black than of another colour, and scarcely bigger than a\npointer. He is made rather long in the head and nose, pretty deep in\nthe chest, very fine in the legs, has short or smooth hair, does not\ncarry his tail so much curled as the other, and is extremely quick and\nactive in running, swimming, or fighting. The St. John's breed of\nthese dogs is chiefly used on their native coast by fishermen. Their\nsense of smelling is scarcely to be credited. Their discrimination of\nscent, in following a wounded pheasant through a whole covert full of\ngame, appears almost impossible.\n\nThe real Newfoundland dog may be broken into any kind of shooting,\nand, without additional instruction, is generally under such command,\nthat he may be safely kept in, if required to be taken out with\npointers. For finding wounded game of every description there is not\nhis equal in the canine race, and he is a _sine qua non_ in the\ngeneral pursuit of wildfowl. These dogs should be treated gently, and\nmuch encouraged when required to do anything, as their faults are\neasily checked. If used roughly, they are apt to turn sulky. They will\nalso recollect and avenge an injury. A traveller on horseback, in\npassing through a small village in Cumberland, observed a Newfoundland\ndog reposing by the side of the road, and from mere wantonness gave\nhim a blow with his whip. The animal made a violent rush at and\npursued him a considerable distance. Having to proceed through the\nsame place the next journey, which was about twelve months afterwards,\nand while in the act of leading his horse, the dog, no doubt\nrecollecting his former assailant, instantly seized him by the boot,\nand bit his leg. Some persons, however, coming up, rescued him from\nfurther injury.\n\nA gamekeeper had a Newfoundland dog which he used as a retriever.\nShooting in a wood one day, he killed a pheasant, which fell at some\ndistance, and he sent his dog for it. When half way to the bird, he\nsuddenly returned, refusing to go beyond the place at which he had\nfirst stopped. This being an unusual circumstance, the man endeavoured\nmore and more to enforce his command; which being unable to effect,\neither by words or his whip, he at last, in a great passion, gave the\ndog a violent kick in the ribs, which laid it dead at his feet. He\nthen proceeded to pick up the bird, and on returning from the spot,\ndiscovered a man concealed in the thicket. He immediately seized him,\nand upon examination, several snares were found on his person. This\nmay be a useful hint to those who are apt to take violent measures\nwith their dogs.\n\nA gentleman who had a country house near London, discovered on\narriving at it one day that he had brought away a key, which would be\nwanted by his family in town. Having an intelligent Newfoundland dog,\nwhich had been accustomed to carry things, he sent him back with it.\nWhile passing with the key, the animal was attacked by a butcher's\ndog, against which he made no resistance, but got away from him. After\nsafely delivering the key, he returned to rejoin his master, but\nstopped in the way at the butcher's shop, whose dog again sallied\nforth. The Newfoundland this time attacked him with a fury, which\nnothing but revenge could have inspired, nor did he quit the aggressor\ntill he had killed him.\n\nThe following fact affords another proof of the extraordinary sagacity\nof these dogs.\n\nA Newfoundland dog of the true breed was brought from that country,\nand given to a gentleman who resided near Thames Street, in London. As\nhe had no means of keeping the animal, except in close confinement, he\nsent him to a friend in Scotland by a Berwick smack. When he arrived\nin Scotland he took the first opportunity of escaping, and though he\ncertainly had never before travelled one yard of the road, he found\nhis way back to his former residence on Fishstreet Hill; but in so\nexhausted a state, that he could only express his joy at seeing his\nmaster, and then died.\n\nSo wonderful is the sense of these dogs, that I have heard of three\ninstances in which they have voluntarily guarded the bed-chamber doors\nof their mistresses, during the whole night, in the absence of their\nmasters, although on no other occasion did they approach them.\n\nThe Romans appear to have had a dog, which seems to have been very\nsimilar in character to our Newfoundland. In the Museum at Naples\nthere is an antique bronze, discovered amongst the ruins of\nHerculaneum, which represents two large dogs dragging from the sea\nsome apparently drowned persons.\n\nThe following interesting fact affords another instance of the\nsagacity and good feeling of the Newfoundland dog:--\n\nIn the year 1841, as a labourer, named Rake, in the parish of Botley,\nnear Southampton, was at work in a gravel-pit, the top stratum gave\nway, and he was buried up to his neck by the great quantity of gravel\nwhich fell upon him. He was at the same time so much hurt, two of his\nribs being broken, that he found it impossible to make any attempt to\nextricate himself from his perilous situation. Indeed, nothing could\nbe more fearful than the prospect before him. No one was within\nhearing of his cries, nor was any one likely to come near the spot. He\nmust almost inevitably have perished, had it not been for a\nNewfoundland dog belonging to his employer. This animal had been\nwatching the man at his work for some days, as if he had been aware\nthat his assistance would be required; for no particular attachment to\neach other had been exhibited on either side. As soon, however, as the\naccident occurred, the dog jumped into the pit, and commenced removing\nthe gravel with his paws; and this he did in so vigorous and\nexpeditious a manner, that the poor man was at length able to liberate\nhimself, though with extreme difficulty. What an example of kindness,\nsensibility, and I may add reason, does this instance afford us!\n\nA gentleman in Ireland had a remarkably fine and intelligent\nNewfoundland dog, named Boatswain, whose acts were the constant theme\nof admiration. On one occasion, an aged lady who resided in the house,\nand the mother-in-law of the owner of the dog, was indisposed and\nconfined to her bed. The old lady was tired of chickens and other\nproductions of the farmyard, and a consultation was held in her room\nas to what could be procured to please her fancy for dinner. Various\nthings were mentioned and declined, in the midst of which Boatswain,\nwho was greatly attached to the old lady, entered her room with a fine\nyoung rabbit in his mouth, which he laid at the foot of the bed,\nwagging his tail with great exultation. It is not meant to infer that\nthe dog knew anything of the difficulty of finding a dinner to the\nlady's taste, but seeing her distressed in mind and body, it is not\nimprobable that he had brought his offering in the hopes of pleasing\nher.\n\nOn another occasion, his master found this dog early one summer's\nmorning keeping watch over an unfortunate countryman, who was standing\nwith his back to a wall in the rear of the premises, pale with terror.\nHe was a simple, honest creature, living in the neighbourhood. Having\nto attend some fair or market, about four o'clock in the morning, he\nmade a short cut through the grounds, which were under the protection\nof Boatswain, who drove the intruder to the wall, and kept him there,\nshowing his teeth, and giving a growl whenever he offered to stir\nfrom the spot. In this way he was kept a prisoner till the owner of\nthe faithful animal released him.\n\nThere was a Newfoundland dog on board H. M. S. Bellona, which kept the\ndeck during the battle of Copenhagen, running backward and forward\nwith so brave an anger, that he became a greater favourite with the\nmen than ever. When the ship was paid off, after the peace of Amiens,\nthe sailors had a parting dinner on shore. Victor was placed in the\nchair, and fed with roast beef and plum-pudding, and the bill was made\nout in Victor's name. This anecdote is taken from Southey's \"Omniana.\"\n\nI am indebted to a kind correspondent for the following anecdotes:--\n\n\"A friend of mine, who in the time of the war commanded the Sea\nFencibles, in the neighbourhood of Southend, possessed in those days a\nmagnificent Newfoundland dog, named Venture. This noble creature my\nfriend was accustomed to take with him in the pursuit of wild fowl.\nOne cold evening, after having tolerable sport, the dog was suddenly\nmissed; he had been last seen when in pursuit of a winged bird. As the\nice was floating in the river, and the dog was true to his name, and\nwould swim any distance for the recovery of wounded game, it was\nfeared he must have fallen a victim to the hazards of the sport, and\nhis owner returned home in consequence much dispirited. On his arrival\nat his house, what was his extreme surprise, on entering the\ndrawing-room, to find his wife accompanied by the dog, and a fine\nmallard lying on the table: the lady had, on her part, been\noverwhelmed with anxiety by the dog's having returned alone some time\nbefore, knowing the frequently perilous amusement in which her husband\nhad embarked. The dog had straight on his return rushed to the\ndrawing-room where the lady sat, and had laid the wild duck at her\nfeet, having brought it safely in his mouth several miles.\n\n\"A gentleman once sent a coat to the tailor to be mended--it was left\nupon a counter in the shop. His dog had accompanied the servant to the\ntailor's. The animal watched his opportunity, pulled the coat down\nfrom the counter, and brought it home in triumph to his master.\n\n\"There is a tendency in the pride of man to deny the power of\nreasoning in animals, while it is the belief of some that reason is\noften a more sure guide to the brute beast, for the purposes designed\nby Providence, than that of their detractors. The fact is, I think,\nfew persons who reflect deny the power, in a degree, to the less\ngifted of Nature's works. Certainly not some of the wisest of our\nrace. Bishop Butler in his 'Analogy,' I think, assumes it; while the\nfollowing beautiful inscription, designed for the epitaph of a\nfavourite Newfoundland dog, was penned by no less a person than the\nlate wise and venerable Earl of Eldon: from it his views on this\nsubject may, I fancy, be easily discerned. They are published in the\nlife of him, written by Horace Twiss:--\n\n   'You who wander hither,\n      Pass not unheeded\n    The spot where poor Caesar\n      Is deposited.\n\n       *          *          *          *\n\n    To his rank among created beings\n    The power of reasoning is denied!\n        Caesar manifested joy,\n      For days before his master\n        Arrived at Encombe;\n        Caesar manifested grief\n    For days before his master left it.\n        What name shall be given\n          To that faculty,\n      Which thus made expectation\n          A source of joy,\n      Which thus made expectation\n          A source of grief?'\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE COLLEY, OR SHEPHERD'S DOG.]\n\nTHE COLLEY, OR SHEPHERD'S DOG.\n\n   \"My dog (the trustiest of his kind)\n    With gratitude inflames my mind:\n    I mark his true, his faithful way,\n    And in my service copy Tray.\"--GAY.\n\n\nWho that has seen has not been delighted with the charming picture by\nMr. Landseer of the shepherd's dog, resting his head on the coffin\nwhich contained the body of his dead master! Grief, fidelity, and\naffection are so strongly portrayed in the countenance of the poor\ndog, that they cannot be mistaken. We may fancy him to have been the\nconstant companion of the old shepherd through many a dreary day of\nrain, and frost, and snow on the neighbouring hills, gathering the\nscattered flock with persevering industry, and receiving the reward of\nhis exertions in the approbation of his master. On returning to the\nhumble cottage at night, he partakes of the \"shepherd's scanty fare;\"\nand then, coiled up before the flickering light of a few collected\nsticks, cold and shivering with wet, he awakes to greet his master at\nthe first glimmering of morn, and is ready to renew his toils. Poor\ndog! what a lesson do you afford to those who are incapable of your\ngratitude, fidelity, and affection! and what justice has the charming\nartist done to these noble qualities! I trust he will receive this\nfanciful description of his dog as a little tribute paid to his\ntalents, as well as to his good feeling.\n\nThe late Mr. Satterthwaite, grandfather of Thomas Rogerson, Esq., of\nLiverpool and Ballamillaghyn, Isle of Man, who died some years ago at\nCoulthouse, near Hawkshead, soon after his marriage, resided near the\nLow Wood Inn, on the borders of Windermere Lake. He left home early\none morning, accompanied by his shepherd's dog, to look after some\nsheep on the mountains near Rydal, about four miles distant; and\ndiscovering two at the bottom of a precipice between two rocks he\ndescended, with the view of extricating them; but when he got to the\nbottom, he could neither assist them nor get up himself, and there he\nwas confined until midnight. The faithful dog remained at the top of\nthe precipice watching his master; but at nightfall he proceeded home,\nscratched the door, and was let in by his mistress, who expressed her\nsurprise at the barking of the dog and non-arrival of her husband. She\nhad no sooner sat down than the dog ran barking towards her, and then\nwent to the door: but as she did not follow, the dog ran to her again,\nseized her apron, and endeavoured to pull her to the door; which\ncircumstance caused her to suppose some accident had befallen her\nhusband. She immediately called up the servant-man, and told him she\nwas sure, from the strange conduct of the dog, that something must\nhave happened to his master. She told the man to take a lantern and\nsome ropes, and follow the dog, taking care to get assistance at\nAmbleside; which he did. No sooner had the man opened the door than\nthe dog bounded out, leaped up at him, barked, and then ran forward,\nbut quickly returned, leaped up again, barked, and then ran forward,\nas if to hasten the man's speed. The faithful dog led the man and his\ncompanions to the prison of his master. The ropes were instantly\nlowered, and Mr. Satterthwaite was providentially released from his\nperilous situation. The sheep also were recovered.\n\nHow well do I recollect the Ettrick Shepherd descanting on the\nsagacity and perseverance of his favourite sheep-dog! His name was\nSirrah, and he told me the following extraordinary anecdote of him,\nwhich I give in his own words:--\n\n\"About seven hundred lambs, which were once under my care at weaning\ntime, broke up at midnight, and scampered off in three divisions\nacross the hills, in spite of all that I and an assistant lad could do\nto keep them together. 'Sirrah, my man!' said I in great affliction,\n'they are awa'.' The night was so dark that I could not see Sirrah,\nbut the faithful animal heard my words--words such as of all others\nwere sure to set him most on the alert; and without much ado he\nsilently set off in search of the recreant flock. Meanwhile I and my\ncompanion did not fail to do all in our power to recover our lost\ncharge. We spent the whole night in scouring the hills for miles\naround, but of neither the lambs nor Sirrah could we obtain the\nslightest trace. It was the most extraordinary circumstance that had\noccurred in my pastoral life. We had nothing for it (day having\ndawned), but to return to our master, and inform him that we had lost\nhis whole flock of lambs, and knew not what had become of them. On our\nway home, however, we discovered a body of lambs at the bottom of a\ndeep ravine, called the Flesh Cleuch, and the indefatigable Sirrah\nstanding in front of them, looking all around for some relief, but\nstill standing true to his charge. The sun was then up; and when we\nfirst came in view of them, we concluded that it was one of the\ndivisions which Sirrah had been unable to manage until he came to\nthat commanding situation. But what was our astonishment, when we\ndiscovered by degrees that not one lamb of the whole flock was\nwanting! How he had got all the divisions collected in the dark, is\nbeyond my comprehension. The charge was left entirely to himself, from\nmidnight until the rising of the sun; and if all the shepherds in the\nforest had been there to have assisted him, they could not have\neffected it with greater propriety. All that I can farther say is,\nthat I never felt so grateful to any creature below the sun, as I did\nto my honest Sirrah that morning.\"\n\n\"I once sent you,\" says Mr. Hogg, some years later, in a letter to the\nEditor of \"Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine,\" \"an account of a notable\ndog of my own, named Sirrah, which amused a number of your readers a\ngreat deal, and put their faith in my veracity somewhat to the test;\nbut in this district, where the singular qualities of the animal were\nknown, so far from any of the anecdotes being disputed, every shepherd\nvalues himself to this day on the possession of facts far outstripping\nany of those recorded by you formerly. With a few of these I shall\nconclude this paper. But, in the first place, I must give you some\naccount of my own renowned Hector, which I promised long ago. He was\nthe son and immediate successor of the faithful old Sirrah; and though\nnot nearly so valuable a dog as his father, he was a far more\ninteresting one. He had three times more humour and whim about him;\nand though exceedingly docile, his bravest acts were mostly tinctured\nwith a grain of stupidity, which showed his reasoning faculty to be\nlaughably obtuse.\n\n\"I shall mention a striking instance of it. I was once at the farm of\nShorthope on Ettrick Head, receiving some lambs that I had bought, and\nwas going to take to market, with some more, the next day. Owing to\nsome accidental delay, I did not get final delivery of the lambs till\nit was growing late; and being obliged to be at my own house that\nnight, I was not a little dismayed lest I should scatter and lose my\nlambs if darkness overtook me. Darkness did overtake me by the time I\ngot half-way, and no ordinary darkness for an August evening. The\nlambs having been weaned that day, and of the wild black-faced breed,\nbecame exceedingly unruly, and for a good while I lost hopes of\nmastering them. Hector managed the point, and we got them safe home;\nbut both he and his master were alike sore forefoughten. It had become\nso dark that we were obliged to fold them with candles; and, after\nclosing them safely up, I went home with my father and the rest to\nsupper. When Hector's supper was set down, behold he was awanting! and\nas I knew we had him at the fold, which was within call of the house,\nI went out and called and whistled on him for a good while, but he did\nnot make his appearance. I was distressed about this; for, having to\ntake away the lambs next morning, I knew I could not drive them a\nmile without my dog if it had been to save the whole drove.\n\n\"The next morning, as soon as it was day, I arose and inquired if\nHector had come home? No; he had not been seen. I knew not what to do;\nbut my father proposed that he would take out the lambs and herd them,\nand let them get some meat to fit them for the road, and that I should\nride with all speed to Shorthope to see if my dog had gone back there.\nAccordingly we went together to the fold to turn out the lambs, and\nthere was poor Hector, sitting trembling in the very middle of the\nfold-door, on the inside of the flake that closed it, with his eyes\nstill steadfastly fixed on the lambs. He had been so hardly set with\nthem after it grew dark, that he durst not for his life leave them,\nalthough hungry, fatigued, and cold, for the night had turned out a\ndeluge of rain. He had never so much as lain down; for only the small\nspot that he sat on was dry, and there had he kept watch the whole\nnight. Almost any other colley would have discerned that the lambs\nwere safe enough in the fold, but honest Hector had not been able to\nsee through this. He even refused to take my word for it; for he would\nnot quit his watch, though he heard me calling both at night and\nmorning.\n\n\"Another peculiarity of his was, that he had a mortal antipathy to the\nfamily-mouser, which was ingrained in his nature from his very\npuppyhood; yet so perfectly absurd was he, that no impertinence on\nher side, and no baiting on, could ever induce him to lay his mouth\non her, or injure her in the slightest degree. There was not a day and\nscarcely an hour passed over, that the family did not get some\namusement with these two animals. Whenever he was within doors, his\nwhole occupation was watching and _pointing_ the cat from morning to\nnight. When she flitted from one place to another, so did he in a\nmoment; and then squatting down, he kept his _point_ sedulously, till\nhe was either called off or fell asleep.\n\n\"He was an exceedingly poor eater of meat, always had to be pressed to\nit, and often would not take it till we brought in the cat. The\nmalicious looks that he cast at her from under his eyebrows on such\noccasions were exceedingly ludicrous, considering his utter\ndisinclination to injure her. Whenever he saw her, he drew near his\nbicker and looked angry; but still he would not taste till she was\nbrought to it, and then he cocked his tail, set up his birses, and\nbegan lapping furiously as if in utter desperation. His good nature,\nhowever, was so immovable, that he would never refuse her a share of\nwhat was placed before him; he even lapped close to the one side of\nthe dish, and left her room,--but mercy! how he did ply!\n\n\"It will appear strange to you to hear a dog's reasoning faculty\nmentioned as I have done; but I declare I have hardly ever seen a\nshepherd's dog do anything without believing that I perceived his\nreasons for it. I have often amused myself in calculating what his\nmotives were for such and such things, and I generally found them very\ncogent ones. But Hector had a droll stupidity about him, and took up\nforms and rules of his own, for which I could never perceive any\nmotive that was not even farther out of the way than the action\nitself. He had one uniform practice, and a very bad one it was; during\nthe time of family worship, and just three or four seconds before the\nconclusion of the prayer, he started to his feet and ran barking round\nthe apartment like a crazed beast. My father was so much amused with\nthis, that he would never suffer me to correct him for it, and I\nscarcely ever saw the old man rise from the prayer without his\nendeavouring to suppress a smile at the extravagance of Hector. None\nof us ever could find out how he knew that the prayer was near done,\nfor my father was not formal in his prayers; but certes he did\nknow,--and of that we had nightly evidence. There never was anything\nfor which I was so puzzled to discover a motive as this, but from\naccident I did discover it; and, however ludicrous it may appear, I am\ncertain I was correct. It was much in character with many of Hector's\nfeats, and rather, I think, the most _outre_ of any principle he ever\nacted on. As I said, his great daily occupation was pointing the cat.\nNow, when he saw us kneel all down in a circle, with our faces couched\non our paws, in the same posture with himself, it struck his absurd\nhead that we were all engaged in pointing the cat. He lay on tenters\nall the while, but the acuteness of his ear enabling him, through\ntime, to ascertain the very moment when we would all spring to our\nfeet, he thought to himself, 'I shall be first after her, for you\nall.'\n\n\"He inherited his dad's unfortunate ear for music, not perhaps in so\nextravagant a degree, but he ever took care to exhibit it on the most\nuntimely and ill-judged occasions. Owing to some misunderstanding\nbetween the minister of the parish and the session-clerk, the\nprecenting in church devolved on my father, who was the senior elder.\nNow, my father could have sung several of the old church-tunes\nmiddling well in his own family-circle; but it so happened that, when\nmounted in the desk, he never could command the starting notes of any\nbut one (St. Paul's), which were always in undue readiness at the root\nof his tongue, to the exclusion of every other semibreve in the whole\nrange of sacred melody. The minister gave out psalms four times in the\ncourse of every day's service; consequently the congregation were\ntreated with St. Paul's in the morning at great length, twice in the\ncourse of the service, and then once again at the close. Nothing but\nSt. Paul's. And it being itself a monotonous tune, nothing could\nexceed the monotony that prevailed in the primitive church of Ettrick.\nOut of pure sympathy for my father alone, I was compelled to take the\nprecentorship in hand; and having plenty of tunes, for a good while I\ncame on as well as could be expected, as men say of their wives. But,\nunfortunately for me, Hector found out that I attended church every\nSunday, and though I had him always closed up carefully at home, he\nrarely failed in making his appearance in church at some time of the\nday. Whenever I saw him a tremor came over my spirits, for I well knew\nwhat the issue would be. The moment that he heard my voice strike up\nthe psalm 'with might and majesty,' then did he fall in with such\noverpowering vehemence, that he and I seldom got any to join in the\nmusic but our two selves. The shepherds hid their heads, and laid them\ndown on the backs of their seats rowed in their plaids, and the lasses\nlooked down to the ground and laughed till their faces grew red. I\ndespised to _stick_ the tune, and therefore was obliged to carry on in\nspite of the obstreperous accompaniment; but I was, time after time,\nso completely put out of all countenance with the brute, that I was\nobliged to give up my office in disgust, and leave the parish once\nmore to their old friend, St. Paul.\n\n\"Hector was quite incapable of performing the same feats among sheep\nthat his father did; but, as far as his judgment served him, he was a\ndocile and obliging creature. He had one singular quality, of keeping\ntrue to the charge to which he was set. If we had been shearing, or\nsorting sheep in any way, when a division was turned out and Hector\ngot the word to attend to them, he would have done it pleasantly for\na whole day without the least symptom of weariness. No noise or hurry\nabout the fold, which brings every other dog from his business, had\nthe least effect on Hector, save that it made him a little troublesome\non his own charge, and set him a-running round and round them, turning\nthem in at corners, from a sort of impatience to be employed as well\nas his baying neighbours at the fold. Whenever old Sirrah found\nhimself hard set in commanding wild sheep on steep ground, where they\nare worst to manage, he never failed, without any hint to the purpose,\nto throw himself wide in below them, and lay their faces to the hill,\nby which means he got the command of them in a minute. I never could\nmake Hector comprehend this advantage with all my art, although his\nfather found it out entirely of himself. The former would turn or wear\nsheep no other way but on the hill above them; and, though very good\nat it, he gave both them and himself double the trouble and fatigue.\n\n\"It cannot be supposed that he could understand all that was passing\nin the little family circle, but he certainly comprehended a good part\nof it. In particular, it was very easy to discover that he rarely\nmissed aught that was said about himself, the sheep, the cat, or of a\nhunt. When aught of that nature came to be discussed, Hector's\nattention and impatience soon became manifest. There was one winter\nevening I said to my mother that I was going to Bowerhope for a\nfortnight, for that I had more conveniency for writing with Alexander\nLaidlaw than at home; and I added, 'But I will not take Hector with\nme, for he is constantly quarrelling with the rest of the dogs,\nsinging music, or breeding some uproar.' 'Na, na,' quoth she, 'leave\nHector with me; I like aye best to have him at hame, poor fallow.'\n\n\"These were all the words that passed. The next morning the waters\nwere in a great flood, and I did not go away till after breakfast; but\nwhen the time came for tying up Hector, he was a-wanting. 'The deil's\nin that beast,' said I,--'I will wager that he heard what we were\nsaying yesternight, and has gone off for Bowerhope as soon as the door\nwas opened this morning.'\n\n\"'If that should really be the case, I'll think the beast no canny,'\nsaid my mother.\n\n\"The Yarrow was so large as to be quite impassable, so that I had to\nwalk up by St. Mary's Loch, and go across by the boat; and, on drawing\nnear to Bowerhope, I soon perceived that matters had gone precisely as\nI suspected. Large as the Yarrow was, and it appeared impassable by\nany living creature, Hector had made his escape early in the morning,\nhad swam the river, and was sitting, 'like a drookit hen,' on a knoll\nat the east end of the house, awaiting my arrival with great\nimpatience. I had a great attachment to this animal, who, to a good\ndeal of absurdity, joined all the amiable qualities of his species. He\nwas rather of a small size, very rough and shagged, and not far from\nthe colour of a fox.\n\n\"His son Lion was the very picture of his dad, had a good deal more\nsagacity, but also more selfishness. A history of the one, however,\nwould only be an epitome of that of the other. Mr. William\nNicholson[O] took a fine likeness of this latter one, which he still\npossesses. He could not get him to sit for his picture in such a\nposition as he wanted, till he exhibited a singularly fine portrait of\na small dog, on the opposite side of the room. Lion took it for a real\nanimal, and, disliking its fierce and important look exceedingly, he\nimmediately set up his ears and his shaggy birses, and, fixing a stern\neye on the picture in manifest wrath, he would then sit for a whole\nday and point at it without budging or altering his position.\n\n\"It is a curious fact in the history of these animals, that the most\nuseless of the breed have often the greatest degree of sagacity in\ntrifling and useless matters. An exceedingly good sheep-dog attends to\nnothing else but that particular branch of business to which he is\nbred. His whole capacity is exerted and exhausted on it, and he is of\nlittle avail in miscellaneous matters; whereas, a very indifferent\ncur, bred about the house, and accustomed to assist in every thing,\nwill often put the more noble breed to disgrace in those paltry\nservices. If one calls out, for instance, that the cows are in the\ncorn, or the hens in the garden, the house-colley needs no other hint,\nbut runs and turns them out. The shepherd's dog knows not what is\nastir; and, if he is called out in a hurry for such work, all that he\nwill do is to break to the hill, and rear himself up on end to see if\nno sheep are running away. A bred sheep-dog, if coming hungry from the\nhills, and getting into a milk-house, would most likely think of\nnothing else than filling his belly with the cream. Not so his\nuninitiated brother; he is bred at home to far higher principles of\nhonour. I have known such lie night and day among from ten to twenty\npails full of milk, and never once break the cream of one of them with\nthe tip of his tongue, nor would he suffer cat, rat, or any other\ncreature to touch it. This latter sort, too, are far more acute at\ntaking up what is said in a family.\n\n\"The anecdotes of these animals are all so much alike, that were I but\nto relate the thousandth part of those I have heard, they would often\nlook very much like repetitions. I shall therefore, in this paper,\nonly mention one or two of the most singular, which I know to be well\nauthenticated.\n\n\"There was a shepherd lad near Langholm, whose name was Scott, who\npossessed a bitch famed over all the West Border for her singular\ntractability. He could have sent her home with one sheep, two sheep,\nor any given number, from any of the neighbouring farms; and, in the\nlambing season, it was his uniform practice to send her home with the\nkebbed ewes just as he got them. I must let the town reader understand\nthis. A kebbed ewe is one whose lamb dies. As soon as such is found,\nshe is immediately brought home by the shepherd, and another lamb put\nto her; and Scott, on going his rounds on the hill, whenever he found\na kebbed ewe, immediately gave her in charge to his bitch to take\nhome, which saved him from coming back that way again and going over\nthe same ground he had visited before. She always took them carefully\nhome, and put them into a fold which was close by the house, keeping\nwatch over them till she was seen by some one of the family; upon\nwhich she instantly decamped, and hastened back to her master, who\nsometimes sent her three times home in one morning with different\ncharges. It was the custom of the farmer to watch her and take the\nsheep in charge from her: but this required a good deal of caution;\nfor as soon as she perceived that she was seen, whether the sheep were\nput into the fold or not, she concluded her charge was at an end, and\nno flattery could induce her to stay and assist in folding them. There\nwas a display of accuracy and attention in this that I cannot say I\nhave ever seen equalled.\n\n\"The late Mr. Steel, flesher in Peebles, had a bitch that was fully\nequal to the one mentioned above, and that, too, in the very same\nqualification. Her feats in taking sheep from the neighbouring farms\ninto the Flesh-market at Peebles, form innumerable anecdotes in that\nvicinity. But there is one related of her, that manifests so much\nsagacity with natural affection, that I do not think the history of\nthe animal creation furnishes such another.\n\n\"Mr. Steel had such implicit dependence on the attention of this\nanimal to his orders, that, whenever he put a lot of sheep before her,\nhe took a pride in leaving them to herself, and either remained to\ntake a glass with the farmer of whom he had made the purchase, or took\nanother road to look after bargains or other business. But one time he\nchanced to commit a drove to her charge at a place called Willenslee,\nwithout attending to her condition as he ought to have done. This farm\nis five miles from Peebles, over wild hills, and there is no regularly\ndefined path to it. Whether Mr. Steel remained behind, or chose\nanother road, I know not; but, on coming home late in the evening, he\nwas astonished at hearing that his faithful animal had not made her\nappearance with the flock. He and his son, or servant, instantly\nprepared to set out by different paths in search of her; but, on their\ngoing out to the street, there was she coming with the drove, no one\nmissing; and, marvellous to relate, she was carrying a young pup in\nher mouth! She had been taken in travail on those hills; and how the\npoor beast had contrived to manage the drove in her state of\nsuffering is beyond human calculation, for her road lay through sheep\nthe whole way. Her master's heart smote him when he saw what she had\nsuffered and effected: but she was nothing daunted; and having\ndeposited her young one in a place of safety, she again set out full\nspeed to the hills, and brought another and another, till she removed\nher whole litter one by one; but the last one was dead.\n\n\"The stories related of the dogs of sheep-stealers are fairly beyond\nall credibility. I cannot attach credit to some of them without\nbelieving the animals to have been devils incarnate, come to the earth\nfor the destruction both of the souls and bodies of men. I cannot\nmention names, for the sake of families that still remain in the\ncountry; but there have been sundry men executed, who belonged to this\ndistrict of the kingdom, for that heinous crime, in my own days; and\nothers have absconded, just in time to save their necks. There was not\none of these to whom I allude who did not acknowledge his dog to be\nthe greatest aggressor. One young man in particular, who was, I\nbelieve, overtaken by justice for his first offence, stated, that\nafter he had folded the sheep by moonlight, and selected his number\nfrom the flock of a former master, he took them out, and set away with\nthem towards Edinburgh. But before he had got them quite off the farm,\nhis conscience smote him, as he said (but more likely a dread of that\nwhich soon followed), and he quitted the sheep, letting them go again\nto the hill. He called his dog off them, and mounting his pony, he\nrode away. At that time he said his dog was capering and playing\naround him, as if glad of having got free of a troublesome business;\nand he regarded him no more, till, after having rode about three\nmiles, he thought again and again that he heard something coming up\nbehind him. Halting, at length, to ascertain what it was, in a few\nminutes there comes his dog with the stolen animals, driving them at a\nfurious rate to keep up with his master. The sheep were all smoking,\nand hanging out their tongues, and their guide was fully as warm as\nthey. The young man was now exceedingly troubled, for the sheep having\nbeen brought so far from home, he dreaded there would be a pursuit,\nand he could not get them home again before day. Resolving, at all\nevents, to keep his hands clear of them, he corrected his dog in great\nwrath, left the sheep once more, and taking colley with him, rode off\na second time. He had not ridden above a mile, till he perceived that\nhis assistant had again given him the slip; and suspecting for what\npurpose, he was terribly alarmed as well as chagrined; for daylight\nnow approached, and he durst not make a noise calling on his dog, for\nfear of alarming the neighbourhood, in a place where they were both\nwell known. He resolved therefore to abandon the animal to himself,\nand take a road across the country which he was sure the other did not\nknow, and could not follow. He took that road, but being on horseback,\nhe could not get across the enclosed fields. He at length came to a\ngate, which he shut behind him, and went about half a mile farther, by\na zigzag course, to a farmhouse, where both his sister and sweetheart\nlived; and at that place he remained until after breakfast time. The\npeople of this house were all examined on the trial, and no one had\neither seen the sheep or heard them mentioned, save one man, who came\nup to the aggressor as he was standing at the stable-door, and told\nhim that his dog had the sheep safe enough down at the Crooked Yett,\nand he needed not hurry himself. He answered, that the sheep were not\nhis--they were young Mr. Thomson's, who had left them to his charge,\nand he was in search of a man to drive them, which made him come off\nhis road.\n\n\"After this discovery, it was impossible for the poor fellow to get\nquit of them; so he went down and took possession of the stolen drove\nonce more, carried them on, and disposed of them; and, finally, the\ntransaction cost him his life. The dog, for the last four or five\nmiles that he had brought the sheep, could have no other guide to the\nroad his master had gone but the smell of his pony's feet. I appeal to\nevery unprejudiced person if this was not as like one of the deil's\ntricks as an honest colley's.\n\n\"It is also well known that there was a notorious sheep-stealer in the\ncounty of Mid-Lothian, who, had it not been for the skins and the\nheads, would never have been condemned, as he could, with the\ngreatest ease, have proved an _alibi_ every time suspicions were\nentertained against him. He always went by one road, calling on his\nacquaintances, and taking care to appear to everybody by whom he was\nknown, while his dog went by another with the stolen sheep; and then,\non the two felons meeting again, they had nothing more to do than turn\nthe sheep into an associate's enclosure, in whose house the dog was\nwell fed and entertained, and would have soon taken all the fat sheep\non the Lothian edges to that house. This was likewise a female, a\njet-black one, with a deep coat of soft hair, but smooth-headed, and\nvery strong and handsome in her make. On the disappearance of her\nmaster she lay about the hills and places where he had frequented, but\nshe never attempted to steal a drove by herself, nor the smallest\nthing for her own hand. She was kept some time by a relation of her\nmaster's, but never acting heartily in his service, soon came\nprivately to an untimely end. Of this there is little doubt, although\nsome spread the report that one evening, after uttering two or three\nloud howls, she instantly vanished! From such dogs as these, good Lord\ndeliver us!\"\n\nThe following is, perhaps, a still more extraordinary anecdote of the\nfidelity shown by a sheep-dog to its charge. It was communicated by\nRobert Murray, shepherd to Mr. Samuel Richmond, Path of Coudie, near\nDunning, in Perthshire.\n\nMurray had purchased for his master four score of sheep at the Falkirk\nTryst, but having occasion to stop another day, and confident in the\nfaithfulness and sagacity of his colley, which was a female, he\ncommitted the drove to her care, with orders to drive them home,--a\ndistance of about seventeen miles. The poor animal, when a few miles\non the road, dropped two whelps, but, faithful to her charge, she\ndrove the sheep on a mile or two further--then, allowing them to stop,\nreturned for her pups, which she carried for about two miles in\nadvance of the sheep. Leaving her pups, the colley again returned for\nthe sheep, and drove them onwards a few miles. This she continued to\ndo, alternately carrying her own young ones and taking charge of the\nflock, till she reached home. The manner of her acting on this\noccasion was afterwards gathered by the shepherd from various\nindividuals, who had observed these extraordinary proceedings of the\ndumb animal on the road. However, when the colley reached her home,\nand delivered her charge, it was found that the two pups were dead. In\nthis extremity, the instinct of the poor brute was, if possible, still\nmore remarkable. She went to a rabbit-brae in the vicinity, and dug\nout of the earth two young rabbits, which she deposited on some straw\nin a barn, and continued to suckle for some time, until one of the\nfarm servants unluckily let down a full sack upon them and smothered\nthem.\n\nThe following anecdote is related by Captain Brown:--\n\nA shepherd had driven a part of his flock to a neighbouring farm,\nleaving his dog to watch the remainder during that day and the next\nnight, expecting to revisit them the following morning. Unfortunately,\nhowever, when at the fair, the shepherd forgot both his dog and his\nsheep, and did not return home till the morning of the third day. His\nfirst inquiry was, whether his dog had been seen? The answer was, No.\n\"Then he must be dead,\" replied the shepherd in a tone of anguish,\n\"for I know he was too faithful to desert his charge.\" He instantly\nrepaired to the heath. The dog had sufficient strength remaining to\ncrawl to his master's feet, and express his joy at his return, and\nalmost immediately after expired.\n\nMr. Blaine relates the following circumstance:--I remember watching a\nshepherd boy in Scotland, who was sitting on the bank of a wide but\nshallow stream. A sheep had strayed to a considerable distance on the\nother side of the water; the boy, calling to his dog, ordered him to\nfetch that sheep back, but to do it gently, for she was heavy in lamb.\nI do not affect to say that the dog understood the reason for which he\nwas commanded to perform this office in a more gentle manner than\nusual; but that he did understand he was to do it gently was very\nevident, for he immediately marched away through the water, came\ngently up to the side of the sheep, turned her towards the rest, and\nthen they both walked quietly side by side to the flock. I was\nscarcely ever more pleased at a trifling incident in rural scenery\nthan this.\n\nThe sense and recollection of the sheep-dog were shown in the\nfollowing instance:--\n\nWhen I occupied a small farm in Surrey, I was in the habit of joining\nwith a friend in the purchase of two hundred Cheviot sheep. The first\nyear we had them, the shepherd who drove them from the North was asked\nby us how he had got on. \"Why, very badly,\" said the man; \"for I had a\nyoung dog, and he did not manage well in keeping the sheep from\nrunning up lanes and out-of-the-way places.\" The next year we had the\nsame number of sheep brought up, and by the same man. In answer to our\nquestion about his journey, he informed us that he had got on very\nwell, for his dog had recollected all the turnings of the road which\nthe sheep had passed the previous year, and had kept them straight the\nwhole of the way.\n\nIt has always appeared to me that the patriarchal flocks, the\nshepherds and their dogs, are seen to more advantage on the wild hills\nof Cumberland and Westmorland, than in any other situation. When I\nhave wandered along the sides of some of the beautiful lakes of those\ncounties, and have witnessed the effects of light and shade at\ndifferent times of the day, on the water and distant hills and\nvalleys, and seen the numerous sheep scattered over the latter, how\ndelightful has been the prospect! During the early morning the bright\nbeams of the sun did not produce too much glare and heat, but served\nto give a charming glitter to the dew-drops as they besparkled the\ngrass and flowers. The tracts of the sheep might be seen by the\ndisappearance of the \"gentle dew\" from their path as they proceeded to\ntheir pasture, driven by the watchful colley. It was a scene of\ncheerfulness, which every lover of nature would admire.\n\nIn the evening the calmness of the lake was delightful. The light\nhovered over it, and the reflection of the trees in the transparent\nwater beautified the scene. The beams of the setting sun glowed first\nover the valleys, and then illumined the tops of the hills; then\ngradually disappeared: but the grey tints of evening still had their\nbeauty, and a diversity of them was preserved long after the greater\neffects of the setting sun had vanished. Deep shade was contrasted\nwith former splendour, till at last the lovely moon appeared with her\nmodest light, and formed a streak across the lake, which was\noccasionally broken as a ripple, raised by a breeze of the gentlest\nkind, passed over it.\n\nWhile the sun still gleamed on the mountain's side the shepherd might\nbe observed resting at its foot, while his patient dog ranged about\ncollecting the flock, and bringing them towards his master.\n\nDear, lovely lake!--Never shall I forget your beauteous scenery.\nSeated in the cool of the evening under one of the noble trees on your\nshore, the only sounds I heard were the soft ripple of the water, and\nthe late warbling of the redbreast--Yes, I forget the humming beetle\nas it rapidly passed, and the owl calling to its mate in the distant\nwood. How peaceful were my feelings!--\n\n   \"Happy the man whose tranquil mind\n    Sees Nature in her changes kind,\n      And pleased the whole surveys;\n    For him the morn benignly smiles,\n    And evening shades reward the toils\n      That measure out his days.\n\n    The varying year may shift the scene,\n    The sounding tempest lash the main,\n      And heaven's own thunder roll;\n    Calmly he views the bursting storm,\n    Tempests nor thunders can deform\n      The quiet of his soul.\"--C. B.\n\nNor is the scenery from the Lakes the only thing to be admired in this\ndelightful country. Lanes may be traversed sheltered by the oak, the\nash, and the hazel, and only those who have seen the Cumberland hazels\ncan form an idea of the beauty of their silvery bark and luxuriant\ngrowth. From these lanes there are occasional openings, through which\na placid lake or a distant range of hills may be seen. And what\npicturesque and rugged hills they are! Huge, projecting rocks and\nverdant lawns, and deep channels of rugged stone, over which a foaming\ntorrent forces its way in the rainy season, and is succeeded in dry\nweather by a sparkling rivulet, which trickles down to swell a little\nbrooklet at the foot of the hill, as it winds its way to the\nneighbouring lake. These may be seen, and the patches of heather, and\nthe patient colley watching for a signal to collect the scattered\nflock, dotted, as it appears to be, over the almost inaccessible\nheights. At some distance it is difficult to see the sheep, at least\nby a stranger, partly on account of the dark colour of their fleeces\n(for they have not the whiteness of our flocks in the midland downs),\nand partly from the shadow on the hills. Separated as they are from\neach other, as the evening closes in the sagacious dog receives a hint\nfrom his master, and the sheep are quickly collected from places to\nwhich the shepherd could with difficulty make his way. Snow and frost\nare no check to the labours of the colley dog. His exertions are\nindefatigable, and the only reward he appears to expect is the\napprobation of his master.\n\nThe following amusing anecdote of a sort of sheep-dog was communicated\nto me by its owner. The dog's name was Hero. His habits were odd\nenough, and he gave many instances of his sagacity. The following was\none of them:--\n\nHero was in the constant habit of accompanying the farm-horses in\ntheir daily labour, pacing the ploughed field regularly aside the\nteam, and returning with them to and from his meals, always taking\ncare to scamper home at a certain hour for a more dainty portion when\nhis mistress dined.\n\nDuring one of these hasty visits he met a young woman, whom he had\nnever seen before, wearing his mistress's cloak. After looking at her\nwith a scrutinising eye, he turned round, and followed her closely, to\nher great dismay, to a neighbouring village four miles off, where the\nbrother of his mistress lived, and into whose house the woman entered.\nProbably concluding from this circumstance that she was a privileged\nperson, he returned quietly back again. Had she passed the house, the\ndog would most probably have seized the cloak, in order to restore it\nto his mistress.\n\nI trust my readers will begin to feel some interest in this sagacious\nand useful animal, and I will add one or two more well-authenticated\nanecdotes of him.\n\nCaptain Brown says that his friend, Mr. Peter Macarthur, related to\nhim the following anecdote of a shepherd's dog, which belonged to his\ngrandfather, who at that time resided in the Island of Mull:--Upon one\noccasion a cow had been missed for some days, and no trace of it could\nbe found; and a shepherd's dog, called Drummer, was also absent. On\nthe second or third day the dog returned, and taking Mr. Macarthur's\nfather by the coat, pulled him towards the door, but he did not follow\nit; he then went to his grandfather, and pulled him in the same way by\nthe coat, but without being attended to; he next went to one of the\nmen-servants, and tugged him also by the coat. Conceiving at last\nthere was something particular which the dog wanted, they agreed to\nfollow him: this seemed to give him great pleasure, and he ran\nbarking and frisking before them, till he led them to a cow-shed, in\nthe middle of a field. There they found the cow fixed by the horns to\na beam, from which they immediately extricated her and conducted her\nhome, much exhausted for want of food. It is obvious, that but for the\nsagacity of this faithful animal she certainly would have died.\n\nMr. John Cobb, farmer at Tillybirnie, parish of Lethnot, near Brechin,\nduring a severe snow-storm in the year 1798, had gone with his dog,\ncalled Caesar, to a spot on the small stream of Paphry (a tributary of\nthe North Esk), where his sheep on such occasions used to take shelter\nbeneath some lofty and precipitous rocks called Ugly Face, which\noverhung the stream. While employed in driving them out, an immense\navalanche fell from these rocks, and completely buried him and his\ndog. He found all his endeavours to extricate himself from this\nfearful situation in vain; and at last, worn out, fell asleep.\nHowever, his dog had contrived to work his way out, and returned home\nnext day about noon. The dog, by whining and looking in the faces of\nthe family, and afterwards running to the door, showed that he wished\nthem to follow him; they accordingly did so, accompanied by a number\nof men provided with spades. He led them to the spot where his master\nwas, and, after scraping away the snow which had fallen from the time\nhe had quitted the spot, he quickly disappeared in the hole by which\nhe had effected his escape. They began to dig, and by nightfall they\nfound Mr. Cobb quite benumbed, standing in an upright posture; but as\nlife was not quite extinguished he was rolled in warm blankets, and\nsoon recovered. As may well be conceived, he felt the greatest regard\nfor his preserver, and treated him ever afterwards with much\ntenderness. The colley lived to a great age, and when he died, his\nmaster said it gave him as much pain as the death of a child; and he\nwould have buried him in a coffin, had he not thought that his\nneighbours would turn it into ridicule.\n\nA gentleman of my acquaintance had a sheep-dog, which was generally\nkept in a yard by the side of his house in the country. One day a\nbeggar made his way into the yard armed with a stout stick, with which\nhe defended himself from the attacks of the dog, who barked at and\nattempted to bite him. On the appearance of a servant the dog ceased\nbarking, and watching his opportunity, he got behind the beggar,\nsnatched the stick from his hand, and carried it into the road, where\nhe left it.\n\nA shepherd named Clark, travelling home to Hunt-Law, parish of Minto,\nnear Jedburgh, with some sheep, had occasion to pass through a small\nvillage, where he went into a public-house to take a dram with some\ncronies whom he had met on the road, leaving the sheep in charge of\nthe dog. His friends and he had indulged in a crack for several hours,\ntill he entirely forgot his drove. In the meantime the dog had\nwearied, and determined to take the sheep home himself, a distance of\nabout ten miles. The shepherd, on coming to the spot where he had left\nthe animals, found they were gone, but knowing well that he might\ndepend on the fidelity of his dog, he followed the straight way to\nHunt-Law. On coming to a gateway which had interrupted their progress,\nhe perceived the dog and sheep quietly reposing; and had it not been\nfor that bar to their course he would have taken them home. Two miles\nof their way was by a made road, and the rest through an open moor.\n\n\"One of the most interesting anecdotes I have known,\" says Sir Patrick\nWalker, who related this anecdote to Captain Brown, and the one which\nfollows, \"relates to a sheep-dog. The names of the parties have\nescaped me just now, but I recollect perfectly that it came from an\nauthentic source. The circumstances were these:--A gentleman sold a\nconsiderable flock of sheep to a dealer, which the latter had not\nhands to drive. The seller, however, told him he had a very\nintelligent dog, which he would send to assist him to a place about\nthirty miles off; and that when he reached the end of his journey, he\nhad only to feed the dog, and desire him to go home. The dog\naccordingly received his orders, and set off with the flock and the\ndrover; but he was absent for so many days that his master began to\nhave serious alarms about him, when one morning, to his great\nsurprise, he found the dog returned with a very large flock of sheep,\nincluding the whole that he had lately sold. The fact turned out to\nbe, that the drover was so pleased with the colley that he resolved to\nsteal him, and locked him up until the time when he was to leave the\ncountry. The dog grew sulky, and made various attempts to escape, and\none evening he fortunately succeeded. Whether the brute had discovered\nthe drover's intention, and supposed the sheep were also stolen, it is\ndifficult to say; but by his conduct it looked so, for he immediately\nwent to the field, collected the sheep, and drove them all back to his\nmaster.\"\n\n\"A few years ago, when upon a shooting party in the Braes of Ranoch,\nthe dogs were so worn out as to be unfit for travel. Our guide said he\nknew the shepherd, who had a dog that perhaps might help us. He\ncalled, and the young man came with his little black colley, to which,\nas soon as he had conversed with the guide, he said something in Erse.\nThe dog set off in a sneaking sort of manner up the hill, and, when he\nshowed any degree of keenness, we hastened to follow, lest he should\nset up the birds; but the lad advised us 'to be canny, as it was time\neneuch when Lud came back to tell.' In a short space Lud made his\nappearance on a knoll, and sat down, and the shepherd said we might go\nup now, for Lud had found the birds. The dog waited till we were\nready, and trotted on at his master's command, who soon cautioned us\nto be on the alert, for Lud signified we were in the midst of the\ncovey. We immediately found this to be the case, and in the course of\nthe day the same thing occurred frequently.\"\n\nThe following anecdote will serve to show the strong affection of the\nsheep-dog; I will give it in the words of a gentleman who witnessed\nthe fact in the north of England.\n\n\"The following instance of canine affection came under my observation\nat a farm-steading, where I happened to be. A colley belonging to the\nshepherd on the farm appeared very restless and agitated: she\nfrequently sent forth short howls, and moaned as if in great agony.\n'What on earth is the matter with the dog?' I asked. 'Ye see, sur,'\nsaid the shepherd, 'au drownt a' her whelps i' the pond the day, and\nshe's busy greeting for them.' Of course, I had no objection to offer\nto this explanation, but resolved to watch her future operations. She\nwas not long in setting off to the pond and fishing out her offspring.\nOne strong brindled pup she seemed to lament over the most. After\nlooking at it for some time, she again set off at a quick rate to a\nnew house then in the course of erection, and scooped out a deep hole\namong the rubbish. She then, one by one, deposited the remains of her\nyoung in it, and covered them up most carefully. After she had\nfulfilled this task, she resumed her labours among her woolly charge\nas usual.\"\n\nIn the winter of the year 1795, as Mr. Boulstead's son, of Great\nSalkeld, in Cumberland, was attending the sheep of his father upon\nGreat Salkeld Common, he had the misfortune to fall and break his\nleg. He was then at the distance of three miles from home--there was\nno chance of any person's coming in so unfrequented a place within\ncall, and evening was fast approaching. In this dreadful dilemma,\nsuffering extreme pain from the fracture, and laying upon the damp\nground at so dreary a season of the year, his fearful situation\nsuggested to him the following expedient. Folding one of his gloves in\nhis pocket-handkerchief, he fastened it round the neck of the dog, and\nrather emphatically ordered him 'home.' These dogs, trained so\nadmirably to orders and signals during their attendance upon the\nflock, are well known to be under the most minute subjection, and to\nexecute the commands of their masters with an alacrity scarcely to be\nconceived.\n\nPerfectly convinced of some inexplicable disquietude from the\nsituation in which his master lay, he set off at a pace which soon\nbrought him to the house, where he scratched with great violence at\nthe door for immediate admittance. This obtained, the parents were in\nthe utmost alarm and consternation at his appearance, especially when\nthey had examined the handkerchief and its contents. Instantly\nconcluding that some accident had befallen their son, they did not\ndelay a moment to go in search of him. The dog, apparently conscious\nthat the principal part of his duty was yet to be performed, anxiously\nled the way, and conducted the agitated parents to the spot where\ntheir son lay overwhelmed with pain, increased by the awful\nuncertainty of his situation. Happily he was removed just at the close\nof day; and the necessary assistance being procured, he soon\nrecovered. He was never more pleasingly engaged than when reciting the\nsagacity and affection of his faithful follower, who then became his\nconstant companion.\n\nMr. Hawkes, farmer of Halling, returning much intoxicated from\nMaidstone market, with his dog, when the whole face of the country was\ncovered with snow, mistook his path, and passed over a ditch on his\nright-hand towards the river; fortunately he was unable to get up the\nbank, or he must have fallen into the Medway, at nearly high water.\nOvercome with the liquor, Hawkes fell amongst the snow, in one of the\ncoldest nights ever remembered: turning on his back, he was soon\nasleep; his dog scratched the snow about him, and then mounted upon\nthe body, rolled himself round, and laid him on his master's bosom,\nfor which his shaggy hide proved a seasonable covering. In this state,\nwith snow falling all the time, the farmer and his dog lay the whole\nof the night; in the morning, a Mr. Finch, who was out with his gun,\nperceiving an uncommon appearance, proceeded towards it; at his\napproach, the dog got off the body, shook the snow from him, and by\nsignificant actions encouraged Mr. Finch to advance. Upon wiping the\nsnow from the face, the person was immediately recognised, and was\nconveyed to the first house, when a pulsation in the heart being\nevident, the necessary means to recover him were employed, and in a\nshort time Hawkes was able to relate his own story. In gratitude for\nhis faithful friend, a silver collar was made for his wearing, and\nthus inscribed:--\n\n   \"In man, true friendship I long strove to find, but missed my aim;\n    At length I found it in my dog most kind; man! blush for shame.\"\n\nThe following tale is copied from the \"Glasgow Post:\"--\n\n\"A few days since, while Hector Macalister was on the Aran Hills\nlooking after his sheep, six miles from home or other habitation, his\ntwo colley dogs started a rabbit, which ran under a large block of\ngranite. He thrust his arm under the stone, expecting to catch it; but\ninstead of doing so, he removed the supports of the block, which\ninstantly came down on his arm, holding him as fast as a vice. His\npain was great; but the pangs he felt were greater when he thought of\nhome, and the death he seemed doomed to die. In this position he lay\nfrom ten in the morning till four in the afternoon; when, finding that\nall his efforts to extricate himself were unavailing, he tried several\ntimes, without effect, to get his knife out of his pocket to cut his\narm off.\n\n\"His only chance now was to send home his dogs, with the view of\nalarming his friends. After much difficulty, as the faithful creatures\nwere most unwilling to leave him, he succeeded; and Mrs. Macalister,\nseeing them return alone, took the alarm, and collecting the\nneighbours, went in search of her husband, led on by the faithful\ncolleys. When they came to the spot, poor Macalister was speechless\nwith crying for assistance. It required five strong men to remove the\nblock from his arm.\n\n\"A further instance of reason and self-judgment was shown in the\ncolley, which, having to collect some sheep from the sides of a gorge,\nthrough which ran a morass, saw one of the animals precipitate itself\ninto the shifting mass, where it sank immediately up to the neck,\nleaving nothing but its small black head visible. The dog looked at\nthe sheep and then at its master with an embarrassed, what-shall-I-do\nkind of expression; but the latter, being too far off to notice the\ndifficulty or to assist, the dog, with infinite address, seized the\nstruggling animal by the neck, and dragged it by main force to the dry\nland, and then compelled it to join the flock he was collecting.\"\n\nThe care a sheep-dog will take of the sheep committed to his charge is\nextraordinary, and he will readily chastise any other dog which\nhappens to molest them. Col. Hamilton Smith relates that a strange cur\none day bit a sheep in rear of the flock, unseen by the shepherd. The\nassault was committed by a tailor's dog, but not unnoticed by the\nother, which immediately seized the delinquent by the ear and dragged\nhim into a puddle, where he kept dabbling him in the mud with the\nutmost gravity. The cur yelled. The tailor came slipshod with his\ngoose to the rescue, and flung it at the sheep-dog, but missed him,\nand did not venture to pick it up till the castigation was over.\n\nAnd here I cannot do better than introduce Dr. Walcot's (Peter Pindar)\ncharming lines on \"The Old Shepherd's Dog:\"--\n\n   \"The old shepherd's dog, like his master, was grey,\n    His teeth all departed, and feeble his tongue;\n    Yet where'er Corin went he was follow'd by Tray:\n    Thus happy through life did they hobble along.\n\n    When fatigued on the grass the shepherd would lie\n    For a nap in the sun, 'midst his slumbers so sweet\n    His faithful companion crawl'd constantly nigh,\n    Placed his head on his lap, or laid down at his feet.\n\n    When winter was heard on the hill and the plain,\n    When torrents descended, and cold was the wind;\n    If Corin went forth 'mid the tempest and rain,\n    Tray scorn'd to be left in the chimney behind.\n\n    At length, in the straw, Tray made his last bed--\n    For vain against death is the stoutest endeavour--\n    To lick Corin's hand he rear'd up his weak head,\n    Then fell back, closed his eyes, and ah! closed them for ever.\n\n    Not long after Tray did the shepherd remain,\n    Who oft o'er his grave with true sorrow would bend;\n    And when dying, thus feebly was heard the poor swain,\n    'O bury me, neighbours, beside my old friend!'\"\n\nThere can be little doubt but that the dog I have been describing is\npossessed of almost human sagacity. The following is an extraordinary\ninstance of it. It is related by Dr. Anderson:--\n\nA young farmer in the neighbourhood of Innerleithen, whose\ncircumstances were supposed to be good, and who was connected with\nmany of the best store-farming families in the county, had been\ntempted to commit some extensive depredations upon the flocks of his\nneighbours, in which he was assisted by his shepherd. The pastoral\nfarms of Tweeddale, which generally consist each of a certain range of\nhilly ground, had in those days no enclosures: their boundaries were\nindicated only by the natural features of the country. The sheep were,\naccordingly, liable to wander, and to become intermixed with each\nother; and at every reckoning of a flock a certain allowance had to be\nmade for this, as for other contingencies. For some time Mr. William\nGibson, tenant in Newby, an extensive farm stretching from the\nneighbourhood of Peebles to the borders of Selkirkshire, had remarked\na surprising increase in the amount of his annual losses. He\nquestioned his shepherds severely, taxed them with carelessness in\npicking up and bringing home the dead, and plainly intimated that he\nconceived some unfair dealing to be in progress. The men, finding\nthemselves thus exposed to suspicions of a very painful kind, were as\nmuch chagrined as the worthy farmer himself, and kept their minds\nalive to every circumstance which might tend to afford any elucidation\nof the mystery. One day, while they were summering their lambs, the\neye of a very acute old shepherd, named Hyslop, was caught by a\nblack-faced ewe which they had formerly missed (for the shepherds\ngenerally know every particular member of their flocks), and which\nwas now suckling its own lamb as if it had never been absent. On\ninspecting it carefully, it was found to bear an additional birn upon\nits face. Every farmer, it must be mentioned, impresses with a hot\niron a particular letter upon the faces of his sheep, as a means of\ndistinguishing his own from those of his neighbours. Mr. Gibson's birn\nwas the letter T, and this was found distinctly enough impressed on\nthe face of the ewe. But above this mark there was an O, which was\nknown to be the mark of the tenant of Wormiston, the individual\nalready mentioned. It was immediately suspected that this and the\nother missing sheep had been abstracted by that person; a suspicion\nwhich derived strength from the reports of the neighbouring shepherds,\nby whom, it appeared, the black-faced ewe had been tracked for a\nconsiderable way in a direction leading from Wormiston to Newby. It\nwas indeed ascertained that instinctive affection for her lamb had led\nthis animal across the Tweed, and over the lofty heights between\nCailzie and Newby; a route of very considerable difficulty, and\nprobably quite different from that by which she had been led away, but\nthe most direct that could have been taken. Mr. Gibson only stopped to\nobtain the concurrence of a neighbouring farmer, whose losses had been\nequally great, before proceeding with some of the legal authorities to\nWormiston, where Millar the shepherd, and his master, were taken into\ncustody, and conducted to the prison of Peebles. On a search of the\nfarm, no fewer than thirty-three score of sheep belonging to various\nindividuals were found, all bearing the condemnatory O above the\noriginal birns; and it was remarked that there was not a single ewe\nreturned to Grieston, the farm on the opposite bank of the Tweed,\nwhich did not minny her lambs--that is, assume the character of mother\ntowards the offspring from which she had been separated.\n\nThe magnitude of this crime, the rareness of such offences in the\ndistrict, and the station in life of at least one of the offenders,\nproduced a great sensation in Tweeddale, and caused the elicitation of\nevery minute circumstance that could possibly be discovered respecting\nthe means which had been employed for carrying on such an extensive\nsystem of depredation. The most surprising part of the tale is the\nextent to which it appears that the instinct of dumb animals had been\ninstrumental, both in the crime and in its detection. While the farmer\nseemed to have deputed the business chiefly to his shepherd, the\nshepherd seemed to have deputed it again, in many instances, to a dog\nof extraordinary sagacity, which served him in his customary and\nlawful business. This animal, which bore the name of \"Yarrow,\" would\nnot only act under his immediate direction in cutting off a portion of\na flock, and bringing it home to Wormiston, but is said to have been\nable to proceed solitarily, and by night, to a sheepwalk, and there\ndetach certain individuals previously pointed out by its master,\nwhich it would drive home by secret ways, without allowing one to\nstraggle. It is mentioned that, while returning home with their stolen\ndroves, they avoided, even in the night, the roads along the banks of\nthe river, or those that descend to the valley through the adjoining\nglens. They chose rather to come along the ridge of mountains that\nseparate the small river Leithen from the Tweed. But even here there\nwas sometimes danger, for the shepherds occasionally visit their\nflocks even before day; and often when Millar had driven his prey from\na distance, and while he was yet miles from home, and the\nweather-gleam of the eastern hills began to be tinged with the\nbrightening dawn, he has left them to the charge of his dog, and\ndescended himself to the banks of the Leithen, off his way, that he\nmight not be seen connected with their company. Yarrow, although\nbetween three and four miles from his master, would continue, with\ncare and silence, to bring the sheep onward to Wormiston, where his\nmaster's appearance could be neither a matter of question nor\nsurprise.\n\nNear to the thatched farmhouse was one of those old square towers, or\npeel-houses, whose picturesque ruins were then seen ornamenting the\ncourse of the Tweed, as they had been placed alternately along the\nnorth and south bank, generally from three to six hundred yards from\nit--sometimes on the shin, and sometimes in the hollow of a hill. In\nthe vault of this tower it was the practice of these men to conceal\nthe sheep they had recently stolen; and while the rest of their\npeople were absent on Sunday at the church, they used to employ\nthemselves in cancelling with their knives the ear-marks, and\nimpressing with a hot iron a large O upon the face, that covered both\nsides of the animal's nose, for the purpose of obliterating the brand\nof the true owner. While his accomplices were so busied, Yarrow kept\nwatch in the open air, and gave notice, without fail, by his barking,\nof the approach of strangers.\n\nThe farmer and his servant were tried at Edinburgh in January 1773,\nand the proceedings excited an extraordinary interest, not only in the\naudience, but amongst the legal officials. Hyslop, the principal\nwitness, gave so many curious particulars respecting the instincts of\nsheep, and the modes of distinguishing them both by natural and\nartificial marks, that he was highly complimented by the bench. The\nevidence was so complete, that both culprits were found guilty and\nexpiated their crime on the scaffold.\n\nThe general tradition is, that Yarrow was also put to death, though in\na less ceremonious manner; but this has probably no other foundation\nthan a _jeu d'esprit_, which was cried through the streets of\nEdinburgh as his dying speech. We have been informed that the dog was\nin reality purchased, after the execution of Millar, by a sheep-farmer\nin the neighbourhood, but did not take kindly to honest courses, and\nhis new master having no work of a different kind in which to engage\nhim, he was remarked to show rather less sagacity than the ordinary\nshepherd's dog.\n\nAn instance of shrewd discrimination in the shepherd's dog, almost as\nremarkable as that of poor Yarrow, was mentioned a few years ago in a\nGreenock newspaper. In the course of last summer, says the narrator,\nit chanced that the sheep on the farm of a friend of ours, on the\nwater of Stinchar, were, like those of his neighbours, partially\naffected with that common disease, maggots in the skin, to cure which\ndistemper it is necessary to cut off the wool over the part affected,\nand apply a small quantity of tobacco juice, or some other liquid. For\nthis purpose the shepherd set off to the hill one morning, accompanied\nby his faithful canine assistant, Ladie. Arrived among the flock, the\nshepherd pointed out a diseased animal; and making the accustomed\nsignal for the dog to capture it, \"poor Mailie\" was speedily sprawling\non her back, and gently held down by the dog till the arrival of her\nkeeper, who proceeded to clip off a portion of her wool, and apply the\nhealing balsam. During the operation, Ladie continued to gaze on the\noperator with close attention; and the sheep having been released, he\nwas directed to capture in succession two or three more of the flock,\nwhich underwent similar treatment. The sagacious animal had now become\ninitiated into the mysteries of his master's vocation, for off he set\nunbidden through the flock, and picked out with unerring precision\nthose sheep which were affected with maggots in their skin, and held\nthem down until the arrival of his master; who was thus, by the\nextraordinary instinct of Ladie, saved a world of trouble, while the\noperation of clipping and smearing was also greatly facilitated.\n\nOften as I have attempted to make acquaintance with a colley-dog, I\nhave never been able to succeed in producing any degree of\nfamiliarity. On the contrary, he has always regarded me with looks of\nshyness and suspicion. His master appears to be the only being to whom\nhe is capable of showing any degree of attachment; and coiled up on\nhis great-coat, or reposing at his feet, he eyes a stranger with\ndistrust, if not with anger. At the same time there is a look of\nextraordinary intelligence, which perhaps is possessed by no other\nanimal in a greater degree. It has been said of him, that although he\nhas not the noble port of the Newfoundland dog, the affectionate\nfondling of the spaniel, nor the fierce attachment which renders the\nmastiff so efficient a guard, yet he exceeds them all in readiness and\nextent of intelligence, combined with a degree of docility unequalled,\nperhaps, by any other animal in existence. There is, if the expression\nmay be used, a philosophic look about him, which shows thought,\npatience, energy, and vigilance. During a recent visit in Cumberland,\nI took some pains to make myself acquainted with the character of this\ndog, and I am now convinced that too much cannot be said of his\nwonderful properties. He protects with indefatigable exertions the\nflock committed to his charge. When we consider the dreary wilds, the\nalmost inaccessible heights, the rugged hills and lofty mountains to\nwhich sheep have access, and to which man could scarcely\npenetrate--that some sheep will stray and intermix with other\nflocks--that the dog knows the extent of his walk as well as every\nindividual of his flock, and that he will select his own as well as\ndrive away intruders, we must admit his utility and admire his\nsagacity.\n\nLet me give another instance of this in the words of the Ettrick\nShepherd. It was related to me by himself, and has since been\npublished in the \"Percy Anecdotes.\"\n\n\"I once witnessed a very singular feat performed by a dog belonging to\nJohn Graham, late tenant in Ashiesteel. A neighbour came to his house\nafter it was dark, and told him that he had lost a sheep on his farm,\nand that if he (Graham) did not secure her in the morning early, she\nwould be lost, as he had brought her far. John said he could not\npossibly get to the hill next morning, but if he would take him to the\nvery spot where he lost the sheep, perhaps his dog Chieftain would\nfind her that night. On that they went away with all expedition, lest\nthe traces of the feet should cool; and I, then a boy, being in the\nhouse, went with them. The night was pitch dark, which had been the\ncause of the man losing his ewe, and at length he pointed out a place\nto John by the side of the water where he had lost her. 'Chieftain,\nfetch that!' said John. 'Bring her back, sir!' The dog jumped around\nand around, and reared himself up on end; but not being able to see\nanything, evidently misapprehended his master, on which John fell to\nscolding his dog, calling it a great many hard names. He at last told\nthe man that he must point out the very track that the sheep went,\notherwise he had no chance of recovering it. The man led him to a grey\nstone, and said he was sure she took the brae (hill side) within a\nyard of that. 'Chieftain, come hither to my foot, you great numb'd\nwhelp!' said John. Chieftain came--John pointed with his finger to the\nground, 'Fetch that, I say, sir--bring that back--away!' The dog\nscented slowly about on the ground for some seconds, but soon began to\nmend his pace, and vanished in the darkness. 'Bring her back!--away,\nyou great calf!' vociferated John, with a voice of exultation, as the\ndog broke to the hill; and as all these good dogs perform their work\nin perfect silence, we neither saw nor heard any more of him for a\nlong time. I think, if I remember right, we waited there about half an\nhour, during which time all the conversation was about the small\nchance which the dog had to find the ewe, for it was agreed on all\nhands that she must long ago have mixed with the rest of the sheep on\nthe farm. How that was, no man will ever be able to decide. John,\nhowever, still persisted in waiting until his dog came back, either\nwith the ewe or without her. At last the trusty animal brought the\nindividual lost sheep to our very feet, which the man took on his\nback, and went on his way rejoicing.\"\n\nThe care the shepherds of the north of England take in preserving a\npure breed of these dogs is very great, and the value set upon them is\nproportionably high. Nor must the shepherds themselves be passed over\nwithout notice. They are a shrewd, sagacious set of men, many of them\nby no means uneducated, as is the case generally with the peasantry in\nthe north of England. Indeed, it is from this class that many scholars\nand mathematicians have done so much credit, and I may add honour, to\nthe counties of Cumberland and Westmoreland. An anecdote is related of\na shepherd, who was found by a gentleman attending his flock, and\nreading a volume of Milton. \"What are you reading?\" asked the\ngentleman. \"Why,\" replied the shepherd, \"I am reading an odd sort of a\npoet; he would fain rhyme, but does not quite know how to set about\nit.\"\n\nThe valleys, or glens, which intersect the Grampian mountains, are\nchiefly inhabited by shepherds. The pastures over which each flock is\npermitted to range extend many miles in every direction. The shepherd\nnever has a view of his whole flock at once, except when they are\ncollected for sale or shearing. His occupation is to make daily\nexcursions to the different extremities of his pastures in succession,\nand to turn back, by means of his dog, any stragglers that may be\napproaching the boundaries of his neighbours. In one of these\nexcursions, a shepherd happened to carry along with him one of his\nchildren, about three years old. This is a usual practice among the\nHighlanders, who accustom their children from their earliest infancy\nto endure the rigours of the climate. After traversing his pasture for\nsome time, attended by his dog, the shepherd found himself under the\nnecessity of ascending a summit at some distance, in order to have a\nmore extensive view of his range. As the ascent was too fatiguing for\nthe child, he left him on a small plain at the bottom, with strict\ninjunctions not to stir from it till his return. Scarcely, however,\nhad he gained the summit, when the horizon was suddenly darkened by\none of those impenetrable mists which frequently descend so rapidly\namidst these mountains, as almost to turn day into night, and that in\nthe course of a few minutes. The anxious father instantly hastened\nback to find his child, but, owing to the unusual darkness, he missed\nhis way in the descent. After a search of many hours amongst the\ndangerous morasses and cataracts with which these mountains abound, he\nwas at length overtaken by night. Still wandering on without knowing\nwhither, he at length came to the verge of the mist, and, by the light\nof the moon, discovered that he had reached the bottom of his valley,\nand was within a short distance of his cottage. To renew the search\nthat night was equally fruitless and dangerous. He was, therefore,\nobliged to return to his cottage, having lost both his child and his\ndog, who had attended him faithfully for years.\n\nNext morning by daybreak, the shepherd, accompanied by a band of his\nneighbours, set out in search of the child, but, after a day spent in\nfruitless fatigue, he was at last compelled, by the approach of night,\nto descend from the mountain. On returning to his cottage he found\nthat the dog, which he had lost the day before, had been home, and on\nreceiving a piece of cake, had instantly gone off again. For several\nsuccessive days the shepherd renewed the search for his child, but\nstill, on returning at evening disappointed to his cottage, he found\nthat the dog had been home, and, on receiving his usual allowance of\ncake, had instantly disappeared. Struck with this circumstance, he\nremained at home one day, and when the dog, as usual, departed with\nhis piece of cake, he resolved to follow him, and find out the cause\nof his strange procedure. The dog led the way to a cataract, at some\ndistance from the spot where the shepherd had left his child. The\nbanks of the cataract almost joined at the top, yet separated by an\nabyss of immense depth, presenting that appearance which so often\nastonishes and appals travellers who frequent the Grampian Mountains,\nand indicates that these stupendous chasms were not the silent work of\ntime, but the sudden effect of some violent convulsion of the earth.\nDown one of these rugged and almost perpendicular descents, the dog\nbegan, without hesitation, to make his way, and at last disappeared\ninto a cave, the mouth of which was almost on a level with the\ntorrent. The shepherd with some difficulty followed, but upon entering\nthe cave, what were his emotions when he beheld his lost child eating\nwith much satisfaction the cake which the dog had just brought to him,\nwhile the faithful animal stood by, eyeing his young charge with the\nutmost complacence.\n\nFrom the situation in which the child was found, it appears that he\nhad wandered to the brink of the precipice, and then either fallen or\nscrambled down till he reached the cave, which the dread of the\ntorrent had probably prevented him from quitting. The dog had traced\nhim to the spot, and afterwards prevented him from starving by giving\nup to him the whole, or the greater part of his own daily allowance.\nHe appears never to have quitted the child by night or day, except\nwhen it was necessary to go for food, and then he was always seen\nrunning at full speed to and from the cottage.\n\nThis extraordinary and interesting anecdote is taken from the \"Monthly\nMagazine\" of April, 1802, and bears every appearance of authenticity.\nIt affords an instance of the sense, affection, and self-denial of a\nfaithful animal, and is recorded to his honour, and as an example to\nthe whole race of human beings.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMr. Daniel, in the Supplement to his \"Rural Sports,\" gives the\nfollowing account of the shepherds' dogs in North Wales. He says,\n\"The sheep in this country are the ancient Alpine sort, (how excellent\nthe mutton is!) and that from their varying mode of life they assume\nvery different habits to the sheep of an inland country, while those\nof the shepherds' dogs are no less conspicuous. The excellency of\nthese animals renders sheep-pens in a great degree unnecessary. If a\nshepherd wishes to inspect his flock in a cursory way, he places\nhimself in the middle of the field, or the piece of ground they are\ndepasturing, and giving a whistle or a shout, the dogs and the sheep\nare equally obedient to the sound, and draw towards the shepherd, and\nare kept within reach by one or more dogs, until the business which\nrequired them to be assembled is finished. In such estimation was this\nbreed of dogs, when cattle constituted one of the grand sources of\nwealth to the country, that in the laws of Hywell Dda, the legal price\nof one perfectly broken in for conducting the flocks or herds to or\nfrom their pasturage, was equal to that of an ox, viz. sixty denarii,\nwhile the price of the house-dog was estimated at only four, which was\nthe value of a sheep. If any doubt arose as to the genuineness of the\nbreed, or his having been _pastorally_ trained, then the owner and a\nneighbour were to make oath that he went with the flocks or herds in\nthe morning, and drove them, with the stragglers, home in the\nevening.\"\n\nI delight in seeing a shepherd's dog in full activity, anxious to\nobey the directions of his master. He runs with his utmost speed,\nencompassing a large space of open country in a short time, and brings\nthose sheep that are wanted to the feet of his master. Indeed the\nnatural talents and sagacity of this dog are so great, partly by being\nthe constant companion of his master, and partly by education, that he\nmay almost be considered a rational being. Mr. Smellie says, \"that he\nreigns at the head of his flock, and that his _language_, whether\nexpressive of blandishment or of command, is better heard and better\nunderstood than the voice of his master. Safety, order, and discipline\nare the effects of his vigilance and activity. Sheep and cattle are\nhis subjects. These he conducts and protects with prudence and\nbravery, and never employs force against them, except for the\npreservation of peace and good order. He not only understands the\nlanguage of his master, but, when too distant to be heard, he knows\nhow to act by signals made with the hand.\" How well Delille describes\nthis faithful animal!--\n\n                  \"Aimable autant qu'utile,\n    Superbe et caressant, courageux et docile,\n    Forme pour le conduire et pour le proteger.\n    Du troupeau qu'il gouverne il est le vrai berger;\n    Le Ciel l'a fait pour nous; et dans leur cours rustique,\n    Il fut des rois pasteurs le premier domestique.\"\n\nMr. Charles Darwin, in his interesting travels in South America,\ninforms us, that when riding it is a common thing to meet a large\nflock of sheep, guarded by one or two dogs, at the distance of some\nmiles from any house or man. He often wondered how so firm a\nfriendship had been established, till he found that the method of\neducation consisted in separating the puppy, while very young, from\nthe mother, and in accustoming it to its future companions. In order\nto do this, a ewe is held three or four times a-day for the little\nthing to suck, and a nest of wool is made for it in the sheep-pen. At\nno time is it allowed to associate with other dogs, or with the\nchildren of the family. From this education, it has no wish to leave\nthe flock, and just as another dog will defend his master, so will\nthese the sheep. It is amusing to observe, when approaching a flock,\nhow the dog immediately advances barking, and the sheep all close in\nhis rear, as if round the oldest ram. These dogs are also easily\ntaught to bring home the flock at a certain hour in the evening. Their\nmost troublesome fault, when young, is their desire of playing with\nthe sheep; for, in their sport, they sometimes gallop their poor\nsubjects most unmercifully. The shepherd dog comes to the house every\nday for some meat, and immediately it is given him he skulks away as\nif ashamed of himself. On these occasions the house-dogs are very\ntyrannical, and the least of them will attack and pursue the stranger.\nThe minute, however, the latter has reached the flock, he turns round\nand begins to bark, and then all the house-dogs take very quietly to\ntheir heels. In a similar manner, a whole pack of hungry wild dogs\nwill scarcely ever venture to attack a flock when under the protection\nof even one of these faithful shepherds.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: ST. BERNARD DOG.]\n\nTHE ST. BERNARD DOG.\n\n   \"Thrill sounds are breaking o'er the startled ear,\n    The shriek of agony, the cry of fear;--\n    And the sad tones of childhood in distress,\n    Are echoing through the snow-clad wilderness!\n    And who the first to waken to the sound,\n    And quickly down the icy path to bound;\n    To dare the storm with anxious step and grave,\n    The first to answer and the first to save?--\n    'T is he--the brave old dog, who many a day\n    Hath saved lost wand'rers in that dreary way;\n    And now, with head close crouched along the ground,\n    Is watching eagerly each coming sound.\n    Sudden he starts--the cry is near--\n    On, gallant Bruno!--know no fear!\n    On!--for that cry may be the last,\n    And human life is ebbing fast!\n    And now he hurries on with heaving side,\n    Dashing the snow from off its shaggy hide;--\n    He nears the child!--he hears his gasping sighs,\n    And, with a tender care, he bears away the prize.\"\n                                                       MRS. HOUSTOUN.\n\n\nSir Walter Scott said that he would believe anything of a St. Bernard\ndog. Their natural sagacity is, indeed, so sharpened by long practice\nand careful training, that a sort of language is established between\nthem and the good monks of St. Bernard, by which mutual communications\nare made, such as few persons living in situations of less constant\nand severe trials can have any just conceptions of. When we look at\nthe extraordinary sagacity of the animal, his great strength, and his\ninstinctive faculties, we shall feel convinced how admirably he is\nadapted to fulfil the purpose for which he is chiefly employed,--that\nof saving lives in snow-storms.\n\nThe peculiar faculty of the St. Bernard dogs is shown by the curious\nfact, that if a whelp of this breed is placed upon snow for the first\ntime, it will begin to scratch it, and sniff about as if in search of\nsomething. When they have been regularly trained, they are generally\nsent out in pairs during heavy snow-storms in search of travellers,\nwho may have been overwhelmed by the snow. In this way they pass over\na great extent of country, and by the acuteness of their scent\ndiscover if any one is buried in the snowdrift. When it is considered\nthat Mount St. Bernard is situated about 8000 feet above the level of\nthe sea, and that it is the highest habitable spot in Europe, and\nthat the road which passes across it is constantly traversed, the\ngreat utility of the dogs is sufficiently manifest. Neither is the\nkindness, charity, and hospitality of the good monks less to be\nadmired than the noble qualities of these dogs.\n\n\"Under every circumstance,\" says Mr. Brockedon, \"in which it is\npossible to render assistance, the worthy religieuses of St. Bernard\nset out upon their fearful duty unawed by the storm, and obeying a\nhigher Power; they seek the exhausted or overwhelmed traveller,\naccompanied by their dogs, whose sagacity will generally detect the\nvictim though buried in the snow. The dogs, also, as if conscious of a\nhigh duty, will roam alone through the day and night in these desolate\nregions, and if they discover an exhausted traveller will lie on him\nto impart warmth, and bark and howl for assistance.\"[P]\n\nMr. Mathews, in his \"Diary of an Invalid,\" gives this testimony in\npraise of the inmates of St. Bernard. \"The approach,\" he says, \"to the\nconvent for the last hour of the ascent is steep and difficult. The\nconvent is not seen till you arrive within a few hundred yards of it;\nwhen it breaks upon the view all at once, at a turn in the rock. Upon\na projecting crag near it stood one of the celebrated dogs, baying at\nour advance, as if to give notice of strangers. These dogs are of a\nlarge size, particularly high upon the legs, and generally of a milk\nwhite, or of a tabby colour. They are most extraordinary creatures, if\nall the stories the monks tell of them are true. They are used for the\npurpose of searching for travellers who may be buried in the snow; and\nmany persons are rescued annually from death by their means. During\nthe last winter, a traveller arrived at the convent in the midst of a\nsnow-storm, having been compelled to leave his wife, who was unable to\nproceed further, at about a quarter of a mile's distance. A party of\nthe monks immediately set out to her assistance, and found her\ncompletely buried under the snow. The sagacity of the dogs alone was\nthe cause of her deliverance, for there was no visible trace, and it\nis difficult to understand how the scent can be conveyed through a\ndeep covering of snow.\n\n\"It is stated that the monks themselves, when out upon search for\ntravellers, have frequently owed their preservation to their dogs, in\na manner which would seem to show that the dogs are endued with a\npresentiment of danger.\n\n\"Many stories of this kind have been told, and I was anxious to\nascertain their truth. The monks stated two or three cases where the\ndogs had actually prevented them from returning to the convent by\ntheir accustomed route, when it afterwards turned out, that if they\nhad not followed the guidance of their dog in his deviation, they\nwould have been overwhelmed by an avalanche. Whether the dog may be\nendued with an intuitive foreboding of danger, or whether he may have\nthe faculty of detecting symptoms not perceptible to our duller\nsenses, must be determined by philosophers.\"\n\nThat dogs and other animals, especially elephants, have this faculty,\ncannot be doubted. There is an instance on record of a dog having, by\nhis importunity and peculiar gestures, induced his mistress to quit a\nwashhouse in which she was at work, the roof of which fell in almost\nimmediately afterwards. Dogs have been known to give the alarm of\nfire, by howling and other signs, before it was perceived by any of\nthe inmates of the house. Their apprehension of danger is indeed very\nacute and very extraordinary, and may serve to account for and prove\nthe accuracy of what has been stated respecting the instinct of the\nSt. Bernard dogs.\n\nThese dogs, however, do not always escape being overwhelmed by a\nsudden avalanche, which falls, as is most usual, in the spring of the\nyear. Two of the domestics of the convent, with two or three dogs,\nwere escorting some travellers, and were lost in an avalanche. One of\nthe predecessors of these dogs, an intelligent animal, which had\nserved the hospital for the space of twelve years, had, during that\ntime, saved the lives of many individuals. Whenever the mountain was\nenveloped in fogs and snow, he set out in search of lost travellers.\nHe was accustomed to run barking until he lost his breath, and would\nfrequently venture on the most perilous places. When he found his\nstrength was insufficient to draw from the snow a traveller benumbed\nwith cold, he would run back to the hospital in search of the monks.\n\nOne day this interesting animal found a child in a frozen state\nbetween the Bridge of Drouaz and the Ice-house of Balsora. He\nimmediately began to lick him, and having succeeded in restoring\nanimation, and the perfect recovery of the boy, by means of his\ncaresses, he induced the child to tie himself round his body. In this\nway he carried the poor little creature, as if in triumph, to the\nhospital. When old age deprived him of strength, the prior of the\nconvent pensioned him at Berne by way of reward. He is now dead, and\nhis body stuffed and deposited in the museum of that town. The little\nphial, in which he carried a reviving liquor for the distressed\ntravellers whom he found among the mountains, is still suspended from\nhis neck.\n\nThe story of this dog has been often told, but it cannot be too\nfrequently repeated. Its authenticity is well established, and it\naffords another proof of the utility and sense of the St. Bernard\ndogs. Neither can the benevolence of the good monks be too highly\npraised. To those accustomed to behold the habitations of man,\nsurrounded by flowery gardens, green and pleasing meadows, rivulets\nwinding and sparkling over their pebbly bottoms, and groves in which\nsongsters haunt and warble, the sight of a large monastery, situated\non a gigantic eminence, with clouds rolling at its foot, and\nencompassed only by beds of ice and snow, must be awfully impressive.\nYet amidst these boundless labyrinths of rugged glens and precipices,\nin the very rudest seasons, as often as it snows or the weather is\nfoggy, do some of those benevolent persons go forth, with long poles,\nguided by their sagacious dogs. In this way they seek the high road,\nwhich these animals, with their instinctive faculty, never miss, how\ndifficult soever to find. If an unfortunate traveller has sunk beneath\nthe force of the falling snows, or should be immersed among them, the\ndogs never fail to find the place of his interment, which they point\nout by scratching and snuffing; when the sufferer is dug out, and\ncarried to the monastery, where means are used for his recovery.\n\nThe Count de Monte Veccios had a St. Bernard dog, which, as his master\nalways had reported, could understand whatever he said to him; and the\nfollowing short account deserves to be recorded, as it at once\nindicates memory, compassion, love, gratitude, and resentment in the\nfaithful animal, even if we do not allow it to make good his master's\nopinion. The story is this:--\n\nThe Count had served long in the wars, and always had this faithful\nattendant with him. The republic of Venice had been signally indebted\nto his courage, but had not rewarded him. He had a favour to ask of\nthe then General Morosini; and as that commander was a man of singular\npride and arrogance, he was obliged to wait a favourable opportunity\nof presenting his suit. One day when the General himself had a favour\nto ask of the Doge (who was a person of high elegance, and celebrated\nfor his love of expensive entertainments), he laid out half his\nfortune on a cold collation, to which he had invited the Doge, to put\nhim in humour for his suit. Thinking this the most suitable time for\nhis purpose, as he who was about to ask a favour for himself would\nhardly at that instant deny one to another, the Count went to him some\nhours before the Doge was expected, and was graciously received in the\nroom where the table was prepared. Here he began to make his court to\nthe General, by praising the elegance and pomp of the preparation,\nwhich consisted of many thousands of finely-cut vessels of Venetian\nglass, filled with the richest sweetmeats and cold provisions, and\ndisposed on fine tables, all covered with one vast cloth, with a deep\ngold fringe, which swept the ground. The Count said a thousand fine\nthings about the elegance and richness of the dessert, and\nparticularly admired the profusion of expense in the workmanship of\nthe crystal and the weight of the gold fringe. Thus far he was very\ncourteously treated; and the lord of the feast pompously told him\nthat all the workmen in Venice had been half a year employed about\nthem. From this he proceeded to the business of his suit; but this met\nwith a very different reception, and was not only refused, but the\ndenial attended with very harsh language. The Count was shocked at the\nill-nature of the General, and went away in a very melancholy mood. As\nhe went out, he patted his dog upon the head, and, out of the fulness\nof his heart, said to him with an afflicted air, \"_Tu vois, mon ami,\ncomme l'on nous traite_,--You see, my friend, how I am used.\" The dog\nlooked up wistfully in his face, and returned him an answer with his\ntears. He accompanied him till he was at some distance from the\nGeneral's, when, finding him engaged in company, he took that\nopportunity of leaving him with people who might justify him if\naccused. Upon which the dog, returning back to the house of the\nhaughty officer, entered the great room, and taking hold of the gold\ntassel at one of the corners of the cloth, ran forcibly back, and drew\nafter him the whole preparation, which in a moment lay strewed on the\nground in a vast heap of broken glasses; thus revenging his master's\nquarrel, and ensuring as unexpected a reception to the General's\nrequests as the latter had given to those of the Count.\n\nOne of the St. Bernard dogs, named Barry, had a medal tied round his\nneck as a badge of honourable distinction, for he had saved the lives\nof forty persons. He at length died nobly in his vocation. In the\nwinter of 1816, a Piedmontese courier arrived at St. Bernard on a\nvery stormy day, labouring to make his way to the little village of\nSt. Pierre, in the valley beneath the mountain, where his wife and\nchildren lived. It was in vain that the monks attempted to check his\nresolution to reach his family. They at last gave him two guides, each\nof whom was accompanied by a dog, one of which was the remarkable\ncreature whose services had been so valuable. They set forth on their\nway down the mountain. In the mean time the anxious family of the poor\ncourier, alarmed at his long absence, commenced the ascent of the\nmountain, in hopes of meeting him, or obtaining some information\nrespecting him. Thus at the moment he and his guides were descending,\nhis family were toiling up the icy steep, crowned with the snows of\nages. A sudden crackling noise was heard, and then a thundering roar\nechoing through the Alpine heights--and all was still. Courier, and\nguides, and dogs, and the courier's family, were at the same moment\noverwhelmed by one common destruction--not one escaped. Two avalanches\nhad broken away from the mountain pinnacles, and swept with impetuous\nforce into the valley below.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: CHASSEUR AND CUBA BLOODHOUNDS.]\n\nTHE BLOODHOUND.\n\n        \"His snuffling nose, his active tail,\n    Attest his joy; then with deep op'ning mouth,\n    That makes the welkin tremble, he proclaims\n    Th' audacious felon; foot by foot he marks\n    His winding way, while all the listening crowd\n    Applaud his reasonings. O'er the watery ford,\n    Dry sandy heaths, and stony barren hills,\n    O'er beaten paths, with men and beasts distain'd,\n    Unerring he pursues; till at the cot\n    Arriv'd, and seizing by his guilty throat\n    The caitiff vile, redeems the captive prey:\n    So exquisitely delicate his sense!\"--SOMERVILLE.\n\n\nThese noble dogs were also called \"Slough dogs,\" in consequence of\ntheir exploring the sloughs, mosses, and bogs, in pursuit of\noffenders, called Moss-troopers. They were used for this purpose as\nlate as the reign of James the First. In Scotland they are called the\nSleuth-hound. It is the largest of any variety of hound, some of them\nhaving measured from twenty-six to twenty-eight inches to the top of\nthe shoulder. They are beautifully formed, and have a noble expression\nof countenance, so finely portrayed in Sir Edwin Landseer's well-known\nand beautiful picture of \"Dignity and Impudence.\" There is, as Colonel\nHamilton Smith has observed, a kind of sagacious, or serious, solemn\ndignity about him, admirably calculated to impress the marauder with\ndread and awe. Indeed, so much is this the case, that I knew an\ninstance of a bloodhound having traced a sheep-stealer to his cottage\nin Bedfordshire; and so great was the dread afterwards of the peculiar\ninstinct of this dog, that sheep-stealing, which had before been very\ncommon in the neighbourhood, was put an end to. It has, therefore,\noften occurred to me, that if bloodhounds were kept for the general\ngood in different districts, sheep-stealing would be less frequent\nthan it is at present. They might also be usefully employed in the\ndetection of rick-burners. At all events the suggestion is worth\nsome consideration, especially from insurance offices. In 1803,\nthe Thrapston Association for the Prosecution of Felons in\nNorthamptonshire, procured and trained a bloodhound for the detection\nof sheep-stealers. In order to prove the utility of the dog, a man was\ndispatched from a spot where a great concourse of people were\nassembled, at ten o'clock in the forenoon, and an hour afterwards the\nhound was laid on the scent. After a chase of an hour and a half, the\nhound found him secreted in a tree many miles from the place of\nstarting. The very knowledge that farmers could readily have recourse\nto the assistance of such a dog, would serve to prevent the commission\nof much crime.\n\nTo try whether a young bloodhound was well instructed, a nobleman\n(says Mr. Boyle) caused one of his servants to walk to a town four\nmiles off, and then to a market-town three miles from thence. The dog,\nwithout seeing the man he was to pursue, followed him by the scent to\nthe above-mentioned places, notwithstanding the multitude of people\ngoing the same road, and of travellers that had occasion to cross it.\nWhen the hound came to the chief market-town, he passed through the\nstreets, without noticing any of the people there, till he got to the\nhouse where the man he sought was, and there found him in an upper\nroom.\n\nA sure way of stopping the dog was to spill blood upon the track,\nwhich destroyed the discriminating fineness of his scent. A captive\nwas sometimes sacrificed on such occasions. Henry the Minstrel tells\nus a romantic story of Wallace, founded on this circumstance. The\nhero's little band had been joined by an Irishman named Fawdon, or\nFadzean, a dark, savage, and suspicious character. After a sharp\nskirmish at Black Erneside, Wallace was forced to retreat with only\nsixteen followers. The English pursued with a border sleuth-bratch, or\nbloodhound. In the retreat, Fawdon, tired, or affecting to be so,\nwould go no farther. Wallace having in vain argued with him, in hasty\nanger struck off his head, and continued the retreat. When the English\ncame up, their hound stayed upon the dead body.\n\nTo the present group has been referred by some naturalists a dog of\nSpanish descent, termed the Cuban bloodhound. A hundred of these\nsagacious but savage dogs were sent, in 1795, from the Havanna to\nJamaica, to extinguish the Maroon war, which at that time was fiercely\nraging. They were accompanied by forty Spanish chasseurs, chiefly\npeople of colour, and their appearance and that of the dogs struck\nterror into the negroes. The dogs, muzzled and led in leashes, rushed\nferociously upon every object, dragging along the chasseurs in spite\nof all their endeavours. Dallas, in his \"History of the Maroons,\"\ninforms us that General Walpole ordered a review of these dogs and the\nmen, that he might see in what manner they would act. He set out for\na place called Seven Rivers, accompanied by Colonel Skinner, whom he\nappointed to conduct the attack. \"Notice of his coming having preceded\nhim, a parade of the chasseurs was ordered, and they were taken to a\ndistance from the house, in order to be advanced when the general\nalighted. On his arrival, the commissioner (who had procured the\ndogs), having paid his respects, was desired to parade them. The\nSpaniards soon appeared at the end of a gentle acclivity drawn out in\na line, containing upwards of forty men, with their dogs in front\nunmuzzled, and held by cotton ropes. On receiving the command, 'Fire!'\nthey discharged their fusils, and advanced as upon a real attack. This\nwas intended to ascertain what effect would be produced on the dogs if\nengaged under a fire of the Maroons. The volley was no sooner\ndischarged than the dogs rushed forward with the greatest fury, amid\nthe shouts of the Spaniards, who were dragged on by them with\nirresistible force. Some of the dogs, maddened by the shout of attack\nwhile held back by the ropes, seized on the stocks of the guns in the\nhands of their keepers, and tore pieces out of them. Their impetuosity\nwas so great that they were with difficulty stopped before they\nreached the general, who found it necessary to get expeditiously into\nthe chaise from which he had alighted; and if the most strenuous\nexertions had not been made, they would have seized upon his horses.\"\nThis terrible exhibition produced the intended effect--the Maroons at\nonce capitulated, and were subsequently sent to Halifax, North\nAmerica.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMr. John Lawrence, says that a servant, discharged by a sporting\ncountry gentleman, broke into his stables by night, and cut off the\nears and tail of a favourite hunter. As soon as it was discovered, a\nbloodhound was brought into the stable, who at once detected the scent\nof the miscreant, and traced it more than twenty miles. He then\nstopped at a door, whence no power could move him. Being at length\nadmitted, he ran to the top of the house, and, bursting open the door\nof a garret, found the object that he sought in bed, and would have\ntorn him to pieces, had not the huntsman, who had followed him on a\nfleet horse, rushed up after him.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nColonel Hamilton Smith says, that he was favoured with the following\ninteresting notice of this dog from Sir Walter Scott, and which agrees\nexactly with some I have seen bred by Lord Bagot at Blithfield in\nStaffordshire, and some belonging to Her present Majesty.\n\n\"The only sleuth-hound I ever saw was one which was kept at Keeldar\nCastle. He was like the Spanish pointer, but much stronger, and\nuntameably fierce,--colour, black and tawny, long pendulous ears,--had\na deep back, broad nostrils, and was strongly made, something like\nthe old English mastiff, now so rare.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWanley, in his \"Wonders of the Little World,\" relates the following\nanecdote:--\n\n\"Anno Dom. 867.--Lothbroke, of the blood-royal of Denmark, and father\nto Humbar and Hubba, entered with his hawk into a boat alone, and by\ntempest was driven upon the coast of Norfolk in England; where being\nfound, he was detained, and presented to Edmund, at that time King of\nthe East Angles. The king entertained him at his court; and perceiving\nhis singular dexterity and activity in hawking and hunting, bore him\nparticular favour. By this means he fell into the envy of Berick, the\nking's falconer, who one day, as they hunted together, privately\nmurdered and threw him into a bush. It was not long before he was\nmissed at court. When no tidings could be heard of him, his dog, who\nhad continued in the wood with the corpse of his master, till famine\nforced him thence, at sundry times came to court, and fawned on the\nking; so that the king, suspecting some ill matter, at length followed\nthe trace of the hound, and was led by him to the place where\nLothbroke lay. Inquisition was made; and by circumstance of words, and\nother suspicions, Berick, the king's falconer, was pronounced to be\nhis murderer. The king commanded him to be set alone in Lothbroke's\nboat, and committed to the mercy of the sea, by the working of which\nhe was carried to the same coast of Denmark from whence Lothbroke\ncame. The boat was well known, and the occupant, Berick, examined by\ntorments. To save himself, he asserted that Lothbroke had been slain\nby King Edmund. And this was the first occasion of the Danes' arrival\nin this land.\"\n\nA planter had fixed his residence at the foot of the Blue Mountains,\nin the back settlements of America. One day the youngest of his\nfamily, a child of about four years old, disappeared. The father,\nbecoming alarmed, explored the woods in every direction, but without\nsuccess. On the following day the search was renewed, during which a\nnative Indian happened to pass, accompanied by his dog, one of the\ntrue bloodhound breed. Being informed of the distress of the planter,\nhe requested that the shoes and stockings last worn by the child might\nbe brought to him. He made the dog smell to them, and patted him. The\nintelligent animal seemed to comprehend all about it, for he began\nimmediately to sniff around. The Indian and his dog then plunged into\nthe wood. They had not been there long before the dog began to bay; he\nthought that he had hit upon the scent, and presently afterwards,\nbeing assured of it, he uttered a louder and more expressive note, and\ndarted off at full speed into the forest. The Indian followed, and\nafter a considerable time met his dog bounding back, his noble\ncountenance beaming with animation. The hound turned again into the\nwood, his master not being far behind, and they found the child lying\nat the foot of a tree, fatigued and exhausted, but otherwise unhurt.\n\nSome of these dogs are kept by the keepers in the royal parks and\nforests, and are used to trace wounded deer. An officer in the 1st\nLife Guards has two noble dogs of this description, for one of which,\nI am informed, he gave fifty pounds. In fact, they are by no means\nuncommon in England. One distinguishing trait of purity in the breed\nis the colour, which is almost invariably a reddish tan, progressively\ndarkening to the upper part, with a mixture of black upon the back.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"In the Spanish West India Islands,\" says Bingley, \"there are officers\ncalled chasseurs, kept in continual employment. The business of these\nmen is to traverse the country with their dogs, for the purpose of\npursuing and taking up all persons guilty of murder, or other crimes;\nand no activity on the part of the offenders will enable them to\nescape. The following is a very remarkable instance, which happened\nnot many years ago.\n\n\"A fleet from Jamaica, under convoy to Great Britain, passing through\nthe Gulf of Mexico, beat upon the north side of Cuba. One of the\nships, manned with foreigners (chiefly renegado Spaniards), in\nstanding in with the land at night, was run on shore. The officers,\nand the few British seamen on board, were murdered, and the vessel was\nplundered by the renegadoes. The part of the coast on which the\nvessel was stranded being wild and unfrequented, the assassins retired\nwith their booty to the mountains, intending to penetrate through the\nwoods to some remote settlements on the southern side, where they\nhoped to secure themselves, and elude all pursuit. Early intelligence\nof the crime had, however, been conveyed to Havanna. The assassins\nwere pursued by a detachment of the Chasseurs del Rey, with their\ndogs; and in the course of a very few days they were every one\napprehended and brought to justice.\n\n\"The dogs carried out by the Chasseurs del Rey are all perfectly\nbroken in. On coming up with the fugitive, they bark at him till he\nstops; they then crouch near him, terrifying him with a ferocious\ngrowling if he attempts to stir. In this position they continue\nbarking, to give notice to the chasseurs, who come up and secure their\nprisoner.\n\n\"Each chasseur can only hunt with two dogs. These people live with\ntheir dogs, and are inseparable from them. At home the animals are\nkept chained; and when walking out with their masters, they are never\nunmuzzled nor let out of ropes, but for attack.\n\n\"Bloodhounds were formerly used in certain districts lying between\nEngland and Scotland, that were much infested by robbers and\nmurderers; and a tax was laid on the inhabitants for keeping and\nmaintaining a certain number of these animals. But as the arm of\njustice is now extended over every part of the country, and as there\nare now no secret recesses where villany can be concealed, their\nservices in this respect are become no longer necessary.\n\n\"Some few of these dogs, however, are yet kept in the northern parts\nof the kingdom, and in the lodges of the royal forests, where they are\nused in pursuit of deer that have been previously wounded. They are\nalso sometimes employed in discovering deer-stealers, whom they\ninfallibly trace by the blood that issues from the wounds of their\nvictims.\n\n\"A very extraordinary instance of this occurred in the New Forest, in\nthe year 1810, and was related to me by the Right Hon. G. H. Rose. A\nperson, in getting over a stile into a field near the Forest, remarked\nthat there was blood upon it. Immediately afterwards he recollected\nthat some deer had been killed, and several sheep stolen in the\nneighbourhood; and that this might possibly be the blood of one that\nhad been killed in the preceding night. The man went to the nearest\nlodge to give information; but the keeper being from home, he was\nunder the necessity of going to Rhinefield Lodge, which was at a\nconsiderable distance. Toomer, the under-keeper, went with him to the\nplace, accompanied by a bloodhound. The dog, when brought to the spot,\nwas laid on the scent; and after following for about a mile the track\nwhich the depredator had taken, he came at last to a heap of furze\nfagots belonging to the family of a cottager. The woman of the house\nattempted to drive the dog away, but was prevented; and on the fagots\nbeing removed a hole was discovered in the ground, which contained the\nbody of a sheep that had recently been killed, and also a considerable\nquantity of salted meat. The circumstance which renders this account\nthe more remarkable is, that the dog was not brought to the scent\nuntil more than sixteen hours had elapsed after the man had carried\naway the sheep.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAn old writer--the author of \"The History of the Buccaneers\"--though\nfull of prejudice against the Indians, thus describes some of the\natrocities practised by the Spaniards:--\n\n\"The Spaniards having possessed themselves of these isles (South\nAmerica), found them peopled with Indians, a barbarous people, sensual\nand brutish, hating all labour, and only inclined to killing and\nmaking war against their neighbours; not out of ambition, but only\nbecause they agreed not with themselves in some common terms of\nlanguage; and perceiving that the dominion of the Spaniards laid great\nrestrictions upon their lazy and brutish customs, they conceived an\nirreconcileable hatred against them, but especially because they saw\nthem take possession of their kingdoms and dominions. Hereupon they\nmade against them all the resistance they could, everywhere opposing\ntheir designs to the utmost; and the Spaniards, finding themselves\ncruelly hated by the Indians, and nowhere secure from their\ntreacheries, resolved to extirpate and ruin them, since they could\nneither tame them by civility nor conquer them by the sword. But the\nIndians, it being their custom to make the woods their chief places of\ndefence, at present made these their refuge whenever they fled from\nthe Spaniards: hereupon those first conquerors of the New World made\nuse of dogs to range and search the intricate thickets of woods and\nforests for those their implacable and unconquerable enemies; thus\nthey forced them to leave their old refuge and submit to the sword,\nseeing no milder usage would do it: hereupon they killed some of them,\nand quartering their bodies, placed them in the highways, that others\nmight take warning from such a punishment. But this severity proved of\nill consequence, for instead of frightening them, and reducing them to\ncivility, they conceived such horror of the Spaniards, that they\nresolved to detest and fly their sight for ever; hence the greatest\npart died in caves and subterraneous places of woods and mountains, in\nwhich places I myself have often seen great numbers of human bones.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt has been already stated, that in the West Indies bloodhounds were\nemployed to hunt the runaway blacks. I had one of these Cuban\nbloodhounds given to me a few years ago, and finding him somewhat more\nferocious than I liked, I made a present of him to a keeper in the\nneighbourhood. He was put into a kennel with other dogs, and soon\nkilled some of them. Keepers, however, in going their rounds at night,\nare frequently accompanied by bloodhounds, and poachers are said to\nhave a great dread of them.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE TERRIER.]\n\nTHE TERRIER.\n\n   \"Little favourite! rest thee here,\n    With the tribute of a tear!\n\n       *          *          *          *\n\n    Thou hast fondled at my feet,\n    Greeted those I lov'd to greet;\n    When in sorrow or in pain,\n    On my bosom thou hast lain.\n    I have seen thy little eye\n    Full as if with sympathy.\"\n\n\nThere are so many varieties of terriers, and so many celebrated breeds\nof these dogs, that it would be a difficult task to give a separate\naccount of each. Some have a cross of the bull-dog; and these,\nperhaps, are unequalled for courage and strength of jaw. In the latter\nquality they are superior to the bull-dog. Then there is the\npepper-and-mustard breed, the Isle of Sky, the rough and smooth\nEnglish terrier, and a peculiar breed, of which my own sensible little\nJudy, now reposing at my feet, is one, besides some others.\n\nPerhaps there is no breed of dogs which attach themselves so strongly\nto man as the terrier. They are his companions in his walks, and their\nactivity and high spirit enable them to keep up with a horse through a\nlong day's journey. Their fidelity to their master is unbounded, and\ntheir affection for him unconquerable. When he is ill they will repose\nfor hours by the side of his bed, as still as a mother watching over a\nsick and slumbering child; and when he is well they will frisk around\nhim, as if their pleasure was renewed with his returning health. How\nwell do I remember this to have been the case with my faithful old dog\nTrim! Nothing would induce him to make the slightest noise till I\ncalled him on my bed, when I awoke in the morning. Night or day, he\nnever left me for many years; and when at last I was obliged to take a\njourney without him, his life fell a sacrifice to his affection for\nme. Alas, poor Trim!\n\nThis breed of dogs, the true English terrier, shows an invincible\nardour in all that he is required to do, as well as persevering\nfortitude. In drawing badgers and foxes from their holes, the severe\nbites of these animals only seem to animate them to greater\nexertions; and they have been known to suffer themselves to be killed\nby the former sooner than give over the unequal contest.\n\nThe vignette at the end of this notice represents a favourite\nwire-haired terrier of mine, called Peter, well known for many years\nat Hampton Court. He had wonderful courage and perseverance, and was\nthe best dog to hunt rabbits in thick hedge-rows I ever met with. He\nwas also a capital water-dog; and he was frequently enticed by some of\nthe officers quartered at Hampton Court to accompany them to the\nneighbouring lock of the river Thames, in which an unfortunate duck\nwas to be hunted. I was assured that on these occasions Peter\ndistinguished himself greatly, diving after the duck whenever it\ndived, and beating all the other dogs by his energy and perseverance.\nPeter was a general favourite, and perhaps this was partly owing to\nhis being a great pickle. He was always getting into scrapes. Twice he\nbroke either his shoulder-bone or his leg by scrambling up a ladder.\nHe was several times nearly killed by large dogs, of which he was\nnever known to show the slightest fear; and with those of about his\nown size he would fight till he died. He has killed sixty rats in a\nbarn in about as many minutes; and he was an inveterate foe to cats. I\nremember once taking him with me on a rabbit-ferreting excursion.\nBefore the ferrets were put in the holes, I made Peter quite aware\nthat he was not to touch them; and he was so sensible a dog that\nthere was no difficulty in doing this, although it was the first time\nhe had seen a ferret. If a rabbit bolted from the hole he was\nwatching, he killed it in an instant; but when the ferret made its\nappearance, Peter retreated a step or two, showing his teeth a little\nas if he longed to attack it. Towards the end of the day I had gone to\na little distance, leaving Peter watching a hole. Presently I heard a\nsqueak, and on turning round I saw the ferret dead, and Peter standing\nover it, looking exceedingly ashamed at what he had done, and\nperfectly conscious that he had disobeyed orders. The temptation,\nhowever, was too great for him to resist. Peter at last got into bad\ncompany, for he suffered himself to be enticed by the ostlers and\nothers into the taps at Hampton Court, and they indulged him in his\nfondness for killing vermin and cats. He was a dog of extraordinary\nsense. I once gave him some milk and water at my breakfast, which was\ntoo hot. He afterwards was in the habit of testing the heat by dipping\none of his paws into the basin, preferring rather to scald his foot\nthan to run the risk of burning his tongue. He had other\npeculiarities. When I mounted my horse and wanted him to follow me, he\nwould come a little distance, and then all at once pretend to be lame.\nThe more I called the lamer he became. He was, in fact, aware of my\nlong rides, and was too lazy to follow me. He played this trick very\nfrequently. If I called him while I had my snuff-box in my hand, he\nwould come to me, pretending to sneeze the whole of the time. I have\nsaid so much about Peter, because he was a good specimen of one of the\nsmall breed of terriers.\n\nTerriers, more than any other breed of dogs, live so much in our\nrooms, and are so generally our companions during our walks and rides,\nthat they naturally imbibe a great degree of sensibility of the least\nlook or word of their master. This very sensibility makes them\nextremely jealous of any preference or attention shown by their master\nto another dog. I had an old terrier who never could bear to see me do\nthis. He showed it not only by his countenance in a remarkable way,\nbut would fall upon any dog he saw me caress. Mons. Blaze gives an\ninstance of a dog having killed a young child, who had been in the\nhabit of fondling a dog belonging to the same owner, and showing fear\nand dislike of him. Another dog was so strongly attached to his master\nthat he was miserable when he was absent. When the gentleman married,\nthe dog seemed to feel a diminution of affection towards him, and\nshowed great uneasiness. Finding, however, that his new mistress grew\nfond of him, he became perfectly happy. Somewhat more than a year\nafter this they had a child. There was now a decided inquietude about\nthe dog, and it was impossible to avoid noticing that he felt himself\nmiserable. The attention paid to the child increased his wretchedness;\nhe loathed his food, and nothing could content him, though he was\ntreated on this account with the utmost tenderness. At last he hid\nhimself in the coal-cellar, and every means were used to induce him to\nreturn, but all in vain. He was deaf to entreaty, rejected all\nkindness, refused to eat, and continued firm in his resolution, till\nexhausted nature yielded to death.\n\nI have seen so much of the sensitiveness and jealousy of dogs, owing\nto their unbounded affection for their masters, that I cannot doubt\nthe truth of this anecdote, which was related by Mr. Dibdin. A lady\nhad a favourite terrier, whose jealousy of any attentions shown to her\nby strangers was so great, that in her walks he guarded her with the\nutmost care, and would not suffer any one to touch her. The following\nanecdote will prove the unchanging affection of these dogs. It was\ncommunicated to me by the best and most amiable man I have ever met\nwith, either in public or private life.\n\nHe had a small terrier, which was much attached to him. On leaving\nthis country for America, he placed the dog under the care of his\nsister, who resided in London. The dog at first was inconsolable, and\ncould scarcely be persuaded to eat anything. At the end of three years\nhis owner returned, and upon knocking at the door of his sister's\nhouse, the dog recognised the well-known knock, ran down-stairs with\nthe utmost eagerness, fondled his master with the greatest affection;\nand when he was in the sitting-room, the faithful animal jumped upon\nthe piano-forte, that he might get as near to him as possible. The\ndog's attachment remained to the last moment of his life. He was taken\nill, and was placed in his master's dressing-room on one of his\ncloaks. When he could scarcely move, his kind protector met him\nendeavouring to crawl to him up the stairs. He took the dog in his\narms, placed him on his cloak, when the dog gave him a look of\naffection which could not be mistaken, and immediately died. There\ncan, I think, be no doubt but that this affectionate animal, in his\nendeavour to get up the steps to his master, was influenced by\nsensations of love and gratitude, which death alone could extinguish,\nand which the approach of death prompted him to show. How charming are\nthese instances of the affection of dogs to a kind master! and how\nforcibly may we draw forth the strongest testimonials of love from\nthem, by treating them as they deserve to be treated! Few people\nsufficiently appreciate the attachment, fidelity, and sagacity of\nthese too-often persecuted animals, or are aware how much they suffer\nfrom unkindness or harsh treatment.\n\nEvery one is acquainted with the pretty picture Sir Walter Scott has\ndrawn of the affectionate terrier, which was the companion of his hero\nin \"Guy Mannering.\" We see the faithful Wasp \"scampering at large in a\nthousand wheels round the heath, and come back to jump up to his\nmaster, and assure him that he participated in the pleasures of the\njourney.\" We see him during the fight with the robbers, \"annoying\ntheir heels, and repeatedly effecting a moment's diversion in his\nmaster's favour, and pursuing them when they ran away.\" We hear the\njolly farmer exclaim--\"De'il, but your dog's weel entered wi' the\nvermin;\" and when he goes to see his friend in prison, and brings Wasp\nwith him, we see the joy of the latter, and hear the remark elicited\nby it--\"Whisht, Wasp--man! Wow, but he's glad to see you, poor thing.\"\nThe whole race of pepper-and-mustard are brought before us--that breed\nwhich are held in such high estimation, not only as vermin-killers,\nbut for their intelligence and fidelity, and other companionable\nqualities.\n\nI could not deny myself the pleasure of introducing this account of\nthe terrier, as it describes so well their courage, fidelity, and\nattachment. \"Wasp,\" we are told, at the close of an eventful day,\n\"crouched himself on the coverlet at his master's feet, having first\nlicked his master's hand to ask leave.\" This is part of the natural\nlanguage of the dog, and how expressive it is! They speak by their\neyes, their tail, and by various gestures, and it is almost impossible\nto misunderstand their meaning. There is a well-known anecdote of two\nterriers who were in the habit of going out together to hunt rabbits.\nOne of them got so far into a hole that he could not extricate\nhimself. His companion returned to the house, and by his importunity\nand significant gestures induced his master to follow him. He led him\nto the hole, made him understand what was the matter, and his\nassociate was at last dug out.\n\nThe following affords another proof of the sagacity of these dogs:--\n\nA respectable farmer, residing in a village near Gosport, had a\nterrier dog who was his constant companion. His business frequently\nled him across the water to Portsmouth, to which place the dog\nregularly attended him. The farmer had a son-in-law, a bookseller at\nPortsmouth, to whose house he frequently went, taking the dog with\nhim. One day, the animal having lost his master in Portsmouth, after\nsearching for him at his usual haunts, went to the bookseller, and by\nvarious gesticulations gave him to understand that he had lost his\nmaster; his supplications were not in vain, for the bookseller, who\nunderstood his language, immediately called his boy, gave him a penny,\nand ordered him to go directly to the beach, and give the ferryman the\nmoney for his passage to the opposite shore. The dog, who seemed to\nunderstand the whole proceeding, was much pleased, and jumped directly\ninto the boat, and when landed at Gosport, immediately ran home. He\nalways afterwards went to the bookseller, if he had lost his master at\nPortsmouth, feeling sure that his boat-hire would be paid, and which\nwas always done.\n\nThe same dog, when he was wet or dirty, would go into the barn till he\nwas clean and dry, and then scratch at the parlour-door for\nadmittance.\n\nThe Rev. Leonard Jenyns, in his \"Observations in Natural History,\"\nrecords the following.--\n\n\"A lady,[Q] living in the neighbourhood of my own village, had some\nyears back a favourite Scotch terrier, which always accompanied her in\nher rides, and was also in the habit of following the carriage to\nchurch every Sunday morning. One summer day the lady and her family\nwere from home several weeks, the dog being left behind. The latter,\nhowever, continued to come to church by itself for several Sundays in\nsuccession, galloping off from the house at the accustomed hour, so as\nto arrive at the time of service commencing. After waiting in the\nchurchyard a short time, it was seen to return home quiet and\ndispirited. The distance from the house to the church is three miles,\nand beyond that at which the ringing of the bells could be ordinarily\nheard. This was probably an instance of the force of habit, assisted\nby some association of recollections connected with the movements of\nthe household on that particular day of the week.\"\n\nAn old house being under repair, the bells on the ground-floor were\ntaken down. The mistress of the house had an old favourite terrier,\nand when she wanted her servants, sent the dog to ring the bell in her\ndressing-room, having previously attached a bit of wood to the\nbell-rope. When the dog pulled at the rope, he listened, and if the\nbell did not ring, he pulled till he heard it, and then returned to\nthe room he had left. If a piece of paper were put into his mouth,\nwith a message written on it, he would carry it to the person he was\ntold to go to, and waited to bring back the answer.\n\nMr. Laing, who was steward to General Sharp, of Houston, near Uphall,\nhad a terrier dog which gave many proofs of his sagacity. Upon one\noccasion his wife lent a white petticoat to a neighbour in which to\nattend a christening; the dog observed his mistress make the loan,\nfollowed the woman home who borrowed the article, never quitted her,\nbut accompanied her to the christening, and leaped several times on\nher knee: nor did he lose sight of her till the piece of dress was at\nlast fairly restored to Mrs. Laing. During the time this person was at\nthe christening she was much afraid the dog would attempt to tear the\npetticoat off her, as she well knew the object of his attendance.\n\nOne of the most extraordinary terriers I ever met with belonged to a\nman named T----y, well known for many years in the neighbourhood of\nHampton Court. The father of this man had been in a respectable way of\nlife, but his son wanted steadiness of character, and, indeed, good\nconduct, and had it not been for the kindness of his late Majesty,\nKing William the Fourth, he would have been reduced to poverty long\nbefore he was. T----y, through the interest of the king, then Duke of\nClarence, was tried in several situations, but failed in them all. At\nlast he was made a postman, but was found drunk one evening with all\nhis letters scattered about him, and, of course, lost his situation.\nHe then took up the employment of rat-catcher, for which, perhaps, he\nwas better qualified than any other. His stock-in-trade consisted of\nsome ferrets and an old terrier dog, and a more extraordinary dog was\nseldom seen. He was rough, rather strongly made, and of a sort of\ncinnamon colour, having only one eye; his appearance being in direct\ncontrast to what Bewick designates the _genteel_ terrier. The other\neye had a fluid constantly exuding from it, which made a sort of\nfurrow down the side of his cheek. He always kept close to the heels\nof his master, hanging down his head, and appearing the\npersonification of misery and wretchedness. He was, however, a\nwonderful vermin-killer, and wherever his master placed him, there he\nremained, waiting with the utmost patience and resignation till an\nunfortunate rat bolted from the hole, which he instantly killed in a\nmost philosophical manner. The poor dog had to undergo the\nvicissitudes of hard fare, amounting almost to starvation, of cold,\nrain, and other evils, but still he was always to be seen at his\nmaster's feet, and his fidelity to him was unshaken. No notice, no\nkind word, seemed to have any effect upon him if offered by a\nstranger, but he obeyed and understood the slightest signal from his\nowner. This man was an habitual drunkard, at least whenever he could\nprocure the means of becoming one. It was a cold, frosty night in\nNovember, when T----y was returning from a favourite alehouse, along\none of the Thames Ditton lanes, some of which, owing to the flatness\nof the country, have deep ditches by their sides. Into one of these\nthe unfortunate man staggered in a fit of brutal intoxication, and was\ndrowned. When the body was discovered the next morning, the dog was\nseen using his best endeavours to drag it out of the ditch. He had\nprobably been employed all night in this attempt, and in his efforts\nhad torn the coat from the shoulders of his master. It should be\nmentioned that this faithful animal had saved his master's life on two\nformer occasions, when he was in nearly similar circumstances.\n\nIt may interest some of the readers of this little story to be\ninformed, that a few years before the event which has been related\ntook place, the unhappy man's wife died, leaving four very young\nchildren. She was a most industrious woman, of excellent character,\nand her great misery on her death-bed was the reflection that these\nchildren--two boys and two girls--would be left to the care of her\ndrunken husband. She was comforted, however, in her dying moments, by\none whose heart and hand have always been ready to relieve the\ndistressed, with the assurance that her children should be taken care\nof. So when the excellent Queen Adelaide heard of the circumstance,\nshe immediately sent for the four children, placed them under the\ncharge of a proper person, educated and maintained them, placed them\nin respectable situations in life, and continued to be their friend\ntill her death. This is one of numerous instances which could be\nrelated by the author of her Majesty's silent, but unbounded\nbenevolence.\n\nIt is time, however, to resume my anecdotes of terriers.\n\nA gentleman of my acquaintance had a favourite dog of this\ndescription, which generally slept in his bed-room. My friend was in\nthe habit of reading in bed. On calling upon him one morning, he took\nme into his bed-room, and showed me his bed-curtains much burnt, and\none of his sheets. The night before he had been reading the newspaper\nin bed, with a candle near him, and had gone to sleep. The newspaper\nhad fallen on the candle, and thus set fire to the curtain. He was\nawoke by his dog scratching him violently with his fore-feet, and was\nthus in time to call for assistance, and save the house from being\nburnt down, and also probably to save his own life.\n\nAnother of my acquaintances has a very small pet terrier, a capital\nrat-killer, who always evinces great antipathy to those animals. She\nlately produced three puppies, two of which were drowned. After\nhunting for them in every direction, she returned to her litter, where\nshe was found the next morning not only suckling her own whelp, but a\nyoung rat; and thus she continued to do till it reached maturity. The\nmorning on which her puppies were drowned there had been a battue of\nrats, some of which were wounded and escaped. One of these latter was\nthe young rat in question. This, no doubt, was taken possession of for\nthe purpose of relieving her of her superabundant milk.\n\nA gentleman who had befriended an ill-used terrier acquired such an\ninfluence over the grateful dog, that he was obedient to the least\nlook or sign of his master, and attached himself to him and his\nchildren in a most extraordinary manner. One of the children having\nbehaved ill, his father attempted to put the boy out of the room, who\nmade some resistance. The dog seeing the bustle, supposed his master\nwas going to beat the boy, and therefore tried to pull him away by the\nskirts of his coat, thus showing his affection and sagacity at the\nsame time.\n\nCaptain Brown relates the following:--\n\nSir Patrick Walker writes me:--\"Pincer, in appearance, is of the\nEnglish terrier breed, but in manner indicates a good deal of the\nScotch colley, or shepherd's dog. He has a remarkably good nose, is a\nkeen destroyer of vermin, and is in the habit of coming to the house\nfor assistance ever since the following occurrence:--He came into the\nparlour one evening when some friends were with us, and looking in my\nface, by many expressive gestures, evinced great anxiety that I should\nfollow him. Upon speaking to him, he leaped, and his whine got to a\nmore determined bark, and pulled me by the collar or sleeve of the\ncoat, until I was induced to follow him; and when I got up, he began\nleaping and gambolling before me, and led the way to an outhouse, to\na large chest filled with pieces of old wood, and which he continued\nby the same means to solicit to be moved. This was done, and he took\nout a large rat, killed it, and returned to the parlour quite composed\nand satisfied.\n\n\"Similar occurrences have frequently taken place since, with this\naddition, that as I sometimes called the servant, he often leaves me\nand runs in the same manner to get his assistance, as soon as he finds\nme quitting the room to follow him. In no instance has Pincer ever\nbeen wrong, his scent is so very good. Once, when he had got\nassistance, he directed our attention to some loose wood in the yard;\nand when part of it was removed, he suddenly manifested\ndisappointment, and that the object of pursuit was gone. His manner\nand look seemed more than instinct, and at once told his story. After\na little pause, and some anxious looks, he dashed up a ladder that\nrested against a low out-house, and took a large rat out of the spout,\nwhither it had apparently escaped whilst Pincer came for assistance.\"\n\nTerriers appear to have a strong instinctive faculty of finding their\nway back to their homes, when removed from them to long distances, and\neven when they have seas to cross. There are instances of their having\ndone this from France, Ireland, and even Germany. Their powers of\nendurance, therefore, must be very great, and their energies as well\nas affections equally strong. They have also an invincible\nperseverance in all they do, to which every fox-hunter will bear his\ntestimony. In my youth, when following the hounds, I have been\ndelighted in witnessing the energy of a brace of terriers, who were\nsure to make their appearance at the slightest check, running with an\nardour quite extraordinary, and incessant in their exertions to be\nwith the busiest of the pack in their endeavours to find. If the fox\ntakes to earth, the little brave terrier eagerly follows, and shows by\nhis baying whether the fox lays deep or not, so that those who are\nemployed in digging it out can act accordingly. In rabbit-shooting in\nthick furze or breaks, the terrier, as I have often witnessed, will\ntake covert with the eagerness and impetuosity of a foxhound. On one\nof these occasions I saw an enormous wild cat started, which a small\nterrier pursued and never quitted, notwithstanding the unequal\ncontest, till it was shot by a keeper. As vermin-killers, they are\nsuperior to all other dogs. The celebrated terrier Billy was known to\nhave killed one hundred rats in seven minutes.\n\nNor are their affections less strong than their courage. A gentleman\nin the neighbourhood of Bath had a terrier which produced a litter of\nfour puppies. He ordered one of them to be drowned, which was done by\nthrowing it into a pail of water, in which it was kept down by a mop\ntill it appeared to be dead. It was then thrown into a dust-hole, and\ncovered with ashes. Two mornings afterwards, the servant discovered\nthat the bitch had still four puppies, and amongst them was the one\nwhich it was supposed had been drowned. It was conjectured that in the\ncourse of a short time the terrier had, unobserved, raked her whelp\nfrom the ashes, and had restored it to life.\n\nAn excellent clergyman, residing close to Brighton, gave me the\nfollowing curious anecdote of a dog which his son, the late\ngreatly-lamented Major R---- brought to England with him from Spain.\nThis dog was a sort of Spanish terrier, and his disposition and habits\nwere very peculiar indeed, unlike those of any dog I ever heard of.\nOne day a teacher of music was going to one of her pupils, and as she\nwas passing at some little distance from the house of the owner of\nthis dog, had her attention attracted to him. He first looked at her\nvery significantly, pulled her by the gown the contrary way to which\nshe was going, and evidently wanted her to follow him. Partly\ninstigated by curiosity, but chiefly because he held her gown tight in\nhis mouth, she suffered herself to be led some distance, when the dog\nbrought her into a field in which some houses were in the course of\nbeing built. She then became alarmed, and seeing two or three\nlabourers, she asked them to drive away the dog. Finding, however,\nthat he would not quit his hold, they advised her to see where the dog\nwould lead her, promising to accompany and protect her. Thus assured,\nshe allowed him to lead her where he pleased. The dog brought her to\nthe houses which were being built. On arriving at them, it was found\nthat the area had been dug out, and a strong plank placed across it,\none end resting on a heap of earth. At this end the dog began to\nscratch eagerly; and on the plank being lifted up, a large beef bone\nwas discovered, which the dog seized in his mouth, and trotted away\nwith it perfectly satisfied. My informant said that he had taken some\npains to ascertain the accuracy of this anecdote from the young lady\nherself, and that I might depend on its truth.\n\nA somewhat similar occurrence took place in my own neighbourhood, very\nrecently. A lady, going to make a morning's call, passed the gateway\nof a house, when her gown was seized by a dog, who pulled her the\ncontrary way to which she was going. She at last disengaged herself,\nand made her call. On coming out, the dog was waiting for her, and\nagain took her gown in his mouth, and led her to the gateway she had\npreviously passed. Here he stopped, and as the dog held a tight hold,\nshe rang the bell; and on a servant opening the gate the animal,\nperfectly satisfied, trotted in, when she found that he belonged to\nthe house, but had been shut out.\n\nIt may be also mentioned as an instance of courage and fidelity in a\nterrier, that as a gentleman was returning home, a man armed with a\nlarge stick seized him by the breast, and striking him a violent blow\non the head, desired him instantly to deliver his watch and money. As\nhe was preparing to repeat the blow, the terrier sprung at him, and\nseized him by the throat. His master, at the same time, giving the man\na violent blow, he fell backwards and dropped his stick. The gentleman\ntook it up, and ran off, followed by his dog, but not before the\nanimal had torn off and carried away in his mouth a portion of the\nman's waistcoat.\n\nThe following fact will serve to prove that dogs are capable of\ngratitude in no ordinary degree:--\n\nA surgeon at Dover, seeing a terrier in the street which had received\nsome injury, took it home; and having cured it in a couple of days,\nlet it go. For many weeks the grateful animal used to pay him a daily\nvisit of a few minutes, and after a vehement wagging of his tail,\nscampered off again to his own home.\n\nA neighbour of mine has a terrier which has shown many odd\npeculiarities in his habits. He has contracted a great friendship for\na white cat, and evinced his affection for it the other day in a\ncurious manner. The dog was observed to scratch a large deep hole in\nthe garden. When he had finished it he sought out the cat, dragged her\nby the neck to the hole, endeavoured to place her in it, and to cover\nher with the soil. The cat, not liking this proceeding, at last made\nher escape.\n\nWhile two terriers were hunting together in a wood, one was caught by\nthe leg in a trap set for foxes. His companion finding that he could\nnot extricate the other, ran to the house of his owner, and by his\nsignificant gesticulations induced him to follow; and by this means he\nwas extricated.\n\nMr. Morritt, well known to the readers of the Life of Sir Walter\nScott, as his intimate and confidential friend, had two terriers of\nthe pepper-and-mustard breed, or rather, as we prefer him to any other\ncharacter Sir Walter Scott has delighted us with, the Dandy Dinmont\nbreed. These dogs (for we avoid the feminine appellation when we can)\nwere strongly attached to their excellent master, and he to them. They\nwere mother and daughter, and each produced a litter of puppies about\nthe same time. Mr. Morritt was seriously ill at this period, and\nconfined to his bed. Fond as these dogs were of their puppies, they\nhad an equal affection for their master, and in order to prove to him\nthat such was the case, they adopted the following expedient. They\nconveyed their two litters of puppies to one place, and while one of\nthe mothers remained to suckle and take care of them, the other went\ninto Mr. Morritt's bedroom and continued there from morning until the\nevening. When the evening arrived, she went and relieved the other\ndog, who then came into the bedroom, and remained quietly all night by\nthe side of the bed, and this they continued to do day after day in\nsuccession.\n\nThis charming anecdote was communicated to me from a quarter which\ncannot leave a doubt of its authenticity, and affords an affecting\nproof of gratitude and love in animals towards those who have treated\nthem with kindness, and made them their friends. Such an anecdote as\nthis should be sufficient to preserve dogs from much of the\nill-treatment they meet with.\n\nI knew a very clever terrier belonging to a friend of mine. His name\nwas Snap. Now Snap one fine, hot, summer's day, accompanied his\nmaster, who was on horseback, on his way from London to the\nneighbourhood of Windsor. The road was very dusty, and, as I have\nsaid, the weather hot, and Snap was very thirsty. No water was met\nwith until Hounslow had been passed. At last a woman crossed the road\nwith a bucket of water, which she had drawn from a neighbouring pump.\nOn arriving at her cottage she placed it outside her door, and left it\nthere. Snap saw it and lapped up some of the water with evident\nsatisfaction, his master waiting for him. When he had finished his\nlapping, instead of following, he deliberately inserted his\nhind-quarters into the bucket--took a good cooling bath--shook himself\nin the bucket--jumped out--gave himself another shake, and then\nfollowed his master. If Snap was lost in London, he would go to every\nhouse usually frequented by his master; and if he then could not find\nhim, would return home. Snap, in fact, was an extraordinary dog.\n\nOne night, a gentleman, between fifty and sixty years of age, went\ninto a house of a particular description near the Admiralty. He had\nnot been long there when he died suddenly. He had with him a small dog\nof the terrier kind, which immediately left the room. There was\nnothing found on the gentleman's person to lead to a discovery of his\nname or residence. About twelve o'clock, however, on the following\nnight, three interesting young ladies, of very genteel appearance,\nbetween the ages of sixteen and twenty, arrived at the house in which\nthe gentleman died, accompanied by the dog. They came in a chaise from\nRichmond. It appears that the dog, immediately after the decease of\nhis master, ran off to Richmond, where he usually resided. As soon as\nthe door was opened he rushed into the apartment of the young ladies,\nwho were in the act of dressing themselves. He began to solicit their\nattention by whines and cries, and his eyes turned to the door, as if\nto invite them to follow him. Failing in this, he became more earnest,\nseized their clothes, and pulled them towards the door with so much\nviolence, that one of their gowns was torn. This excited great alarm;\nand from the intelligence shown by the animal, it was resolved by the\nyoung ladies to resign themselves to the dog, which continued to\nentice them away. A chaise was accordingly ordered, and they\nimmediately took their seats in it. The dog led the way, with its head\nalmost constantly turned back, and his eyes fixed upon the carriage,\nuntil he led them to the house near the Admiralty, where his master\nhad died. There they alighted; but how great was their grief, horror,\nand surprise, to find their father dead in such a situation!\n\nThe deceased proved to be Mr. ----, an inhabitant of Lewisham, in\nKent, where he possessed a farm of considerable extent, and followed\nthe business of an auctioneer, and was greatly respected in his\nneighbourhood. That night he dropped down in the house alluded to,\nwhen the people, supposing him dead, immediately gave the alarm, and\nthe body was conveyed to the Lord Cochrane hotel, within a few doors,\nin Spring Gardens. Here it was discovered that the spark of life was\nnot totally extinguished. He was carried up-stairs and put to bed, and\nmedical assistance was called in; but in vain,--in a few minutes he\nwas a corpse. As the people of the house were carrying him up-stairs,\na sum of 1100_l._ fell from his pocket in bank-notes, tied up in a\nbundle, and marked on the outside, \"To be paid into Snow's,\"--a\ncircumstance sufficient in itself to show that he had not been\ndishonestly treated by the female who accompanied him into the house\nfrom which he was brought, or any other person belonging to it. The\ninteresting little dog, after his return, remained at his post, the\nfaithful guardian of his beloved master's remains. He lay on the foot\nof the bed, with his eyes constantly fixed on the body, with an eager,\nanxious, melancholy expression.\n\nThe place was crowded with people, led by curiosity to this\ninteresting scene. The dog never appeared to take any notice of these\nstrange visitors, and no rude hand attempted to interrupt the little\nmourner in his melancholy office. The verdict of the coroner's inquest\nwas,--\"Died by the visitation of God.\"\n\nAnother of the same breed of dogs evinced much sagacity on the\nfollowing occasion:--\n\nHis master occupied furnished lodgings near the Inns of Court in\nLondon. In the hurry of removing from them, neither he nor his\nservants thought of the dog, who was not in the way when they quitted\nthe house. When the dog returned to it, finding his master gone, he\ntrotted off to Kensington, where an intimate friend of his master\nresided, and very quietly and patiently made himself at home in the\nhouse. As he was well known, he was fed and taken care of, and at the\nend of three days his master called, and he then gladly went away with\nhim.\n\nIn this instance it is, I think, evident, that the dog possessed a\nsort of reasoning faculty, which induced him to suppose that the best\nchance he had of finding his master was by going to a place to which\nhe had formerly accompanied him; and he was correct in his\ncalculation.\n\nThis faculty was again exercised in the following manner:--\n\nA gentleman residing in the Tower of London had a terrier which he one\nday lost, about seven miles from town. The dog attached himself to a\nsoldier, and notwithstanding the man went to town in an omnibus, the\ndog followed the vehicle. When the soldier alighted from it, he went\nto the barracks in St. James's Park, the dog continuing close behind\nhim. On examining the collar, the name and residence of the owner of\nthe dog were found on it. The soldier therefore brought him to the\nTower, and gave the above particulars. From this account it may be\nsupposed that the dog, having been familiar with the sight of\nGuardsmen at the Tower, had followed one of them in hopes that he\nbelonged to that place, and therefore would conduct him to it.\n\nI am not aware that any writer upon dogs has noticed one of their\npeculiarities, that of curiosity. Let me give a curious and\nwell-authenticated instance of this property, which was communicated\nto me by the owner of the dog. This animal was a Scotch terrier, named\nSnob, and certainly a more singular dog has seldom been met with. His\nmaster was commander of the fleet on the South American station, and\nSnob embarked with him. He soon began to give proofs of his\nextraordinary curiosity, for he liked to see everything that was going\nforward in the ship. Snob, in fact, was a sort of Paul Pry. He watched\neverything that was to be done. One night the sailors were kept up\naloft for some hours doing something to the sails; Snob remained on\nthe deck the whole time, looking very wise, and watching the sailors\nwith one paw lifted up. He would at other times wander between the\ndecks, looking at everything going forward; and when he had been shut\nin the cabin he has frequently been observed standing on his hind legs\nlooking through the keyhole of the door, in order to watch the\nproceedings which were carried on. I have a great respect for Snob,\nwho is still alive, and I have no doubt his curiosity is as great as\never.\n\nA curious instance of ferocity and affection in a terrier bitch is\nrecorded by Mr. Daniel:--After a very severe burst of upwards of an\nhour, a fox was, by Mr. Daniel's hounds, run to earth, at Heney\nDovehouse, near Sudbury, in Suffolk. The terriers were lost; but as\nthe fox went to ground in view of the headmost hounds, and it was the\nconcluding day of the season, it was resolved to dig him out, and two\nmen from Sudbury brought a couple of terriers for that purpose. After\nconsiderable labour, the hunted fox was got, and given to the hounds;\nwhilst they were breaking him, one of the terriers slipped back into\nthe earth, and again laid. After more digging, a bitch-fox was taken\nout, and the terrier killed two cubs in the earth; three others were\nsaved from her fury, and which were begged by the owner of the bitch,\nwho said he should make her suckle them. This was laughed at as\nimpossible; however, the man was positive, and the cubs were given to\nhim. The bitch-fox was carried away, and turned into an earth in\nanother county. The terrier had behaved so well at earth, that she was\nsome days afterwards bought, with the cubs she had fostered, by Mr.\nDaniel. The bitch continued regularly to suckle, and reared them until\nable to shift for themselves. What adds to this singularity is, that\nthe terrier's whelp was nearly five weeks old, and the cubs could just\nsee, when this exchange of progeny was made.\n\nThe following is a proof not only of the kind disposition, but the\nsense of a terrier.\n\nA gentleman, from whom I received the anecdote, was walking one day\nalong a road in Lancashire, when he was _accosted_, if the term may be\nused, by a terrier dog. The animal's gesticulations were at first so\nstrange and unusual, that he felt inclined to get out of its way. The\ndog, however, at last, by various significant signs and expressive\nlooks, made his meaning known, and the gentleman, to the dog's great\ndelight, turned and followed him for a few hundred yards. He was led\nto the banks of a canal, which he had not before seen, and there he\ndiscovered a small dog struggling in the water for his life, and\nnearly exhausted by his efforts to save himself from drowning. The\nsides of the canal were bricked, with a low parapet wall rather higher\nthan the bank. The gentleman, by stooping down, with some difficulty\ngot hold of the dog and drew him out, his companion all the time\nwatching the proceedings. It cannot be doubted, but that in this\ninstance the terrier made use of the only means in his power to save\nthe other dog, and this in a way which showed a power of reasoning\nequally strong with that of a human being, under a similar\ncircumstance.\n\nI may here mention another instance of a terrier finding his way back\nto his former home.\n\nA gentleman residing near York went to London, and on his return\nbrought with him a young terrier dog, which had never been out of\nLondon. He brought him to York in one of the coaches, and thence\nconveyed him to his residence. Impatient of separation from his former\nmaster, he took the first opportunity of escaping from the stable in\nwhich he had been confined, and was seen running on the turnpike road\ntowards York by the boy who had him in charge, and who followed him\nfor some distance. A few days afterwards, the gentleman who had lost\nthe dog received a letter front London, acquainting him that the dog\nwas found lying at the door of his lodgings, his feet quite sore, and\nin a most emaciated condition.\n\nA few years ago, a blind terrier dog was brought from Cashiobury Park,\nnear Watford, to Windsor. On arriving at the latter place he became\nvery restless, and took the first opportunity of making his escape,\nand, blind as he was, made his way back to Cashiobury Park, his native\nplace.\n\nA correspondent informs me, that whilst he was taking a walk one\nsummer's evening, he observed two rough-looking men, having a bull-dog\nwith them, annoying a sickly-looking young gentleman, who was\naccompanied by a terrier. The bull-dog at last seized the latter, and\nwould soon have killed it, had not my correspondent interfered. He was\nthen informed that a few years previous, when his master was in bed,\nthis little terrier came to his bedroom door, and scratched and\nyelled to be admitted. When this had been done, he immediately rushed\nto a closet-door in the room, at which he barked most furiously. His\nmaster, becoming alarmed, fastened the door, and having obtained the\nassistance of his servants, a notorious thief was discovered in the\ncloset.\n\nMr. White, of Selborne, relates a pleasing anecdote of affection,\nwhich existed between two incongruous animals--a horse and a hen, and\nwhich showed a mutual fellowship and kindness for each other. The\nfollowing anecdote, communicated to me by a clergyman in Devonshire,\naffords another proof of affection between two animals of opposite\nnatures. I will give it in his own words:--\n\n\"Some few months since it was necessary to confine our little terrier\nbitch, on account of distemper. The prison-door was constructed of\nopen bars; and shortly after the dog was placed in durance, we\nobserved a bantam cock gazing compassionately at the melancholy\ninmate, who, doubtless, sadly missed its warm rug by the parlour fire.\nAt last the bantam contrived to squeeze through the bars, and a\nfriendship of a most unusual kind commenced. Pylades and Orestes,\nNisus and Euryalus, could not have been bound by closer bonds of\naffection. The bantam scarcely forsook the poor prisoner's cell for\nits daily food, and when it did the dog became uneasy, whining till\nher friend returned, and then it was most amusing to watch the actions\nof the biped and quadruped. As the dog became worse, so did the\nbantam's attentions redouble; and by way of warming the dog, it took\nits place between the forelegs, and then the little animal settled\nluxuriously down on the bird, seeming to enjoy the warmth imparted by\nthe feathers. In this position, and nestled closely side by side, did\nthis curious pair pass some weeks, till death put an end to the poor\ndog and this singular friendship. It must be added for the bantam's\nhonour, that he was most melancholy for some time afterwards.\"\n\nThe same clergyman also communicated to me the following anecdote\nillustrative of the sagacity of terriers.\n\nHe says that \"his brother-in-law, who has a house in Woburn Place, and\nanother in the City, had a wire-haired terrier named Bob, of\nextraordinary sagacity. The dog's knowledge of London and his\nadventures would form a little history. His master was in the habit,\noccasionally, of spending a few days at Gravesend, but did not always\ntake his dog with him. Bob, left behind one day against his liking,\nscampered off to London Bridge, and out of the numerous steamers\nboarded the Gravesend boat, disembarked at that place, went to the\naccustomed inn, and not finding his master there, got on board the\nsteamer again and returned to town. He then called at several places\nusually frequented by his master, and afterwards went home to Woburn\nPlace. He has frequently been stolen, but always returns, sometimes in\nsad plight, with a broken cord round his neck, and with signs of\nill-usage; but still he contrives to escape from the dog-stealers.\"\n\nI once took a favourite terrier with me to a house I had hired in\nManchester Street. He had never been in London before. While the\ncarriage was unloading in which the dog had been conveyed, he was\nmissed, and I could hear nothing of him for nearly a fortnight; at the\nend of that time he found his way back to the house, with a short cord\nround his neck, which he had evidently gnawed off. How he came to find\nhis way back is not a little to be wondered at. His joy on seeing me\nagain I cannot forget. Poor Peter! when he got old, and my rides\nbecame too long for him, he pretended to be lame after accompanying me\na short distance, and would then trot back without any appearance of\nlameness.\n\nThe following anecdote proves the kind disposition of a terrier. A\nkitten, only a few hours old, had been put into a pail of water, in\nthe stable-yard of an inn, for the purpose of drowning it. It had\nremained there for a minute or two, until it was to all appearance\ndead, when a terrier bitch, attached to the stables, took the kitten\nfrom the water, and carried it off in her mouth. She suckled and\nwatched over it with great care, and it throve well. The dog was at\nthe same time suckling a puppy about ten weeks old, but which did not\nseem at all displeased with the intruder.\n\nI had once an opportunity of witnessing the sense of a terrier. I was\nriding on Sunbury Common, where many roads diverge, when a terrier\nran up, evidently in pursuit of his master. On arriving at one of the\nthree roads, he put his nose to the ground and snuffed along it; he\nthen went to the second, and did the same; but when he came to the\nthird, he ran along it as fast as he could, without once putting down\nhis nose to the ground. This fact has been noticed by others, but I\nnever before witnessed it myself.\n\nAt Dunrobin Castle, in Sutherlandshire (then the seat of the Marquis\nof Stafford now of the Duke of Sutherland), there was to be seen, in\nMay 1820, a terrier bitch nursing a brood of ducklings. She had a\nlitter of whelps a few weeks before, which were taken from her and\ndrowned. The unfortunate mother was quite disconsolate till she\nperceived the brood of ducklings, which she immediately seized and\ncarried to her lair, where she retained them, following them out and\nin with the greatest care, and nursing them, after her own fashion,\nwith the most affectionate anxiety. When the ducklings, following\ntheir natural instinct, went into the water, their foster-mother\nexhibited the utmost alarm; and as soon as they returned to land she\nsnatched them up in her mouth, and ran home with them. What adds to\nthe singularity of this circumstance is, that the same animal when\ndeprived of a litter of puppies the year preceding, seized two\ncock-chickens, which she reared with the like care she bestows upon\nher present family. When the young cocks began to try their voices,\ntheir foster-mother was as much annoyed as she now seems to be by the\nswimming of the ducklings, and never failed to repress their attempts\nat crowing.\n\nThe foreman of a brickmaker, at Erith in Kent, went from home in\ncompany with his wife, and left her at the Plough at Northend with his\nbrother, while he proceeded across the fields to inspect some repairs\nat a cottage. In about an hour after his departure, his dog, a small\nScotch terrier, which had accompanied him, returned to the Plough,\njumped into the lap of his mistress, pawed her about, and whined\npiteously. She at first took no particular notice of the animal, but\npushed him from her. He then caught hold of her clothes, pulled at\nthem repeatedly, and continued to whine incessantly. He endeavoured,\nalso, in a similar way to attract the attention of the brother. At\nlast all present noticed his importunate anxiety, and the wife then\nsaid she was convinced something had happened to her husband. The\nbrother and the wife, with several others, went out and followed the\ndog, who led them through the darkness of the night, which was very\ngreat, to the top of a precipice, nearly fifty feet deep; and standing\non the bank, held his head over, and howled in a most distressing\nmanner. They were convinced that the poor man had fallen over; and\nhaving gone round to the bottom of the pit, they found him, lying\nunder the spot indicated by the dog, quite dead.\n\nThe following anecdote is copied from a recent number of \"The\nField:\"--\n\nI well remember, when a boy, at Barton-upon-Humber, a certain \"keel\"\nemployed in the Yorkshire corn-trade, on board which the captain had a\ndog, possessed of some traces of terrier blood, smooth-coated, and of\na pure white colour, his neck and back adorned with stumpy bristles,\nwhich ruffled up at the slightest provocation--altogether he looked a\nmongrel cur enough, but he was an excellent sailor, for he attended\nhis master on all his trading expeditions, and never deserted his\nship. One day, while the keel lay in Barton Haven, the dog was lost,\nand great was the consternation in consequence. Diligent search was\nmade in the town and neighbourhood, but every effort to discover the\nmissing animal proved unavailing. Month after month passed away, the\nkeel went and came on her accustomed avocations, and poor Keeper was\nforgotten--considered by his master to be dead. Judge, therefore, the\nman's surprise when one day steering with difficulty his vessel into\nGoole Harbour, which was crowded with shipping at the time, his glance\nsuddenly fell upon his faithful and long-lost dog, buffeting the water\nat a considerable distance from the keel, but making eagerly towards\nher. By the aid of a piece of tar-rope, which was dangling round the\ndog's neck, and a friendly boat-hook, he was lifted quite exhausted on\nto the deck of his master's craft, when it became at once apparent\nthat he had long been kept a prisoner, most probably on board a\nvessel, by some one who had stolen him at Barton. The cause of the\npoor dog's sudden reappearance was undoubtedly his having heard his\nmaster's well-remembered voice; but it is strange he should have been\nable to distinguish at so great a distance, and when swelling that\nchorus of hoarse bawling which arises from a hundred husky throats\nwhen a Yorkshire keelman is engaged forcing his craft into a crowded\nharbour; and it is also equally touching, that when roused by the\ndistant sound, the poor beast should have plunged, encumbered as he\nwas with the rope he had just burst asunder, so gallantly into the\nwater--an element he was ill-adapted to move in, and in which his\nmaster declared he had never seen him before.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE BLENHEIM SPANIEL.]\n\nTHE SPANIEL.\n\n   \"Though once a puppy, and a fop by name,\n    Here moulders one whose bones some honour claim;\n    No sycophant, although of Spanish race,\n    And though no hound, a martyr to the chase.\n    Ye pheasants, rabbits, leverets rejoice,\n    Your haunts no longer echo to his voice;\n    This record of his fate, exulting view--\n    He died worn out with vain pursuit of you.\n    'Yes,' the indignant shade of _Fop_ replies,\n    'And worn with _vain pursuits_, man also dies.'\"\n                                                    COWPER.\n\n\nPoor Doll! the very name of spaniel reminds me of you. How well do I\nnow see your long pendent ears, your black expressive eyes, your\nshort, well-rounded mouth, your diminutive but strong legs, almost\nhidden by the long, silky hair from your stomach, and hear you sing\nas you lie on the rug before a good fire in the winter, after a hard\nday's cock or snipe-shooting, wet and tired with your indefatigable\nexertions! Yes--strange as it may sound, Doll would sing in her way,\nas I have stated in a previous page; and such was her sagacity, that\nin process of time when I said, \"Sing, Doll,\" she gave vent to the\nsounds, and varied them as I exclaimed, \"Louder, louder.\" All this\ntime she appeared to be fast asleep.--And what a dog she was in thick\ncover, or in rushy swamps! No day was too long for her, nor could a\nwoodcock or snipe escape her \"unerring nose:\"--\n\n   \"Still her unerring nose would wind it--\n    If above ground was sure to find it.\"\n\nMonsieur Blaze also tells us, that a gentleman had a dog which he\ntaught to utter a particular musical note, and that the animal made a\ncry which very much resembled it. He then sounded another note close\nto the ear of the dog, saying to him, \"Too high, or too low,\"\naccording to the degree of intonation. The animal finished by pretty\ncorrectly giving the note which was required.\n\nAn account is given in the \"Bibliotheque Universelle,\" of a spaniel,\nwho, if he heard any one play or sing a certain air, \"L'ane de notre\nmoulin est mort, la pauvre bete,\" &c., which is a lamentable ditty, in\nthe minor key, the dog looked very pitifully, then gaped repeatedly,\nshowing increasing signs of impatience and uneasiness. He would then\nsit upright on his hind-legs, and begin to howl louder and louder till\nthe music stopped. No other air ever affected him, and he never\nnoticed any music till the air in question was played or sung. He then\nmanifested, without exception or variation, the series of actions\nwhich have been described.\n\nI knew a dog which howled whenever it was pitied, and another whose\near was so sensitive, that it could never bear to hear me make a\nmoaning noise. I have likewise seen a dog affected by peculiar notes\nplayed on a violoncello.\n\nIt is only now and then that such dogs as Doll are to be met with, and\nwhen they are, they are invaluable, either as sporting dogs or as\ncompanions. In the latter capacity Doll was quite delightful. In an\nearly May morning, when she knew that no shooting was going forward,\nshe would frisk around me as I strolled in a meadow, gay with my\nfavourite cowslips, or run before me as I passed along a lane, where\nprimroses were peeping out of its mossy sides, looking back every now\nand then to see if I was following her. There was the dew still\nglittering on the flowers, which, from their situation, had not yet\nfelt the influence of the morning sun, reminding me of some favourite\nlines by my favourite poet, Herrick:--\n\n   \"Fall on me like a silent dew,\n      Or like those maiden showers,\n    Which, by the peep of day, do strew\n     _A baptism o'er the flowers_.\"\n\nHow delightful it is to think of these bygone walks, and how pleasant\nto call to mind these traits of a favourite and faithful animal! The\npoet Cowper was never more engaging than when he describes his vain\nattempts to reach the flower of a water-lily, as he was strolling\nalong the banks of a stream attended by his spaniel, and afterwards\ndiscovering that the sagacious animal had been in the river and\nplucked it for him.\n\nAnother instance of wonderful sagacity in this breed of dogs may be\nhere noticed.\n\nA gentleman shooting wild fowl one day on a lake in Ireland, was\naccompanied by a sagacious spaniel. He wounded a wild duck, which swam\nabout the lake, and dived occasionally, followed by the dog. The bird\nat last got to some distance, and lowered itself in the water, as\nducks are known to do when they are wounded and pursued, leaving\nnothing but his head out of it. The dog swam about for some time in\nsearch of his prey, but all scent was lost, and he obeyed his master's\ncall, and returned to the shore. He had no sooner arrived there,\nhowever, than he ran with the greatest eagerness to the top of some\nhigh ground close to the lake. On arriving there, he was seen looking\nround in every direction; and having at last perceived the spot where\nthe duck was endeavouring to conceal itself, he again rushed into the\nwater, made directly to the spot he had previously marked, and at last\nsucceeded in securing the wounded bird.\n\nA spaniel which had been kindly treated and fed, during the absence of\nhis master, in the kitchen of a neighbour, showed his gratitude not\nonly by greeting the cook when he met her, but on one occasion he laid\ndown at her feet a bird which he had caught, wagged his tail and\ndeparted; thus showing that he had not forgotten the favours he had\nreceived.\n\nThe following old, but interesting anecdote, is taken from Daniel's\n\"Rural Sports:\"--\n\n\"A few days before the overthrow of Robespierre, a revolutionary\ntribunal had condemned M. R----, an upright magistrate and a most\nestimable man, on a pretence of finding him guilty of a conspiracy.\nHis faithful dog, a spaniel, was with him when he was seized, but was\nnot suffered to enter the prison. He took refuge with a neighbour of\nhis master's, and every day at the same hour returned to the door of\nthe prison, but was still refused admittance. He, however, uniformly\npassed some time there, and his unremitting fidelity won upon the\nporter, and the dog was allowed to enter. The meeting may be better\nimagined than described. The gaoler, however, fearful for himself,\ncarried the dog out of the prison; but he returned the next morning,\nand was regularly admitted on each day afterwards. When the day of\nsentence arrived, the dog, notwithstanding the guards, penetrated into\nthe hall, where he lay crouched between the legs of his master. Again,\nat the hour of execution, the faithful dog is there; the knife of the\nguillotine falls--he will not leave the lifeless and headless body.\nThe first night, the next day, and the second night, his absence\nalarmed his new patron, who, guessing whither he had retired, sought\nhim, and found him stretched upon his master's grave. From this time,\nfor three months, every morning the mourner returned to his protector\nmerely to receive food, and then again retreated to the grave. At\nlength he refused food, his patience seemed exhausted, and with\ntemporary strength, supplied by his long-tried and unexhausted\naffection, for twenty-four hours he was observed to employ his\nweakened limbs in digging up the earth that separated him from the\nbeing he had served. His powers, however, here gave way; he shrieked\nin his struggles, and at length ceased to breathe, with his last look\nturned upon the grave.\"\n\nThe late Rev. Mr. Corsellis, of Wivenhoe, in Essex, had an old\ngamekeeper who had reared a spaniel, which became his constant\ncompanion, day and night. Wherever the keeper appeared Dash was close\nbehind him, and was of infinite use in his master's nocturnal\nexcursions. The game at night was never regarded, although in the day\nno spaniel could find it in better style, or in a greater quantity. If\nat night, however, a strange foot entered the coverts, Dash, by a\nsignificant whine, informed his master that an enemy was abroad, and\nthus many poachers have been detected. After many years of friendly\ncompanionship the keeper was seized with a disease which terminated\nin death. Whilst the slow but fatal progress of his disorder allowed\nhim to crawl about, Dash, as usual, followed his footsteps; and when\nnature was nearly exhausted, and he took to his bed, the faithful\nanimal unweariedly attended at the foot of it. When he died the dog\nwould not quit the body, but lay on the bed by its side. It was with\ndifficulty he could be induced to eat any food; and though after the\nburial he was caressed with all the tenderness which so fond an\nattachment naturally called forth, he took every opportunity to steal\nback to the room where his old master died. Here he would remain for\nhours, and from thence he daily visited his grave. At the end,\nhowever, of fourteen days, notwithstanding every kindness and\nattention shown him, the poor faithful animal died, a victim of grief\nfor the loss of his master.\n\nIn recording such an instance of affection, it is impossible not to\nfeel regret that animals capable of so much attachment should ever be\nsubjected to ill-usage. Whenever they are treated with kindness and\naffection, they are ready to return it four-fold. It is generally\nill-treatment which produces ferocity or indifference, and the former\nmust be very great before the love of their master can be conquered.\n\nMr. Blaine records the following story of a dog which he had found:--\n\n\"I one day picked up in the streets an old spaniel bitch, that some\nboys were worrying, from which her natural timidity rendered her\nincapable of defending herself. Grateful for the protection, she\nreadily followed me home, where she was placed among other dogs, in\nexpectation of finding an owner for her; but which not happening, she\nspent the remainder of her life (three or four years) in this asylum.\nConvinced she was safe and well treated, I had few opportunities of\nparticularly noticing her afterwards, and she attached herself\nprincipally to the man who fed her. At a future period, when\ninspecting the sick dogs, I observed her in great pain, occasionally\ncrying out. Supposing her to be affected in her bowels, and having no\nsuspicion she was in pup, I directed some castor-oil to be given her.\nThe next day she was still worse, when I examined her more\nattentively, and, to my surprise, discovered that a young one\nobstructed the passage, and which she was totally unable to bring\nforth. I placed her on a table, and, after some difficulty, succeeded\nin detaching the puppy from her. The relief she instantly felt\nproduced an effect I shall never forget; she licked my hands, and when\nput on the ground she did the same to my feet, danced round me, and\nscreamed with gratitude and joy.\n\n\"From this time to her death, which did not happen till two years\nafter, she never forgot the benefit she had received; on the contrary,\nwhenever I approached, she was boisterous in evincing her gratitude\nand regard, and would never let me rest till, by noticing her, I had\nconvinced her that I was sensible of her caresses. The difference\nbetween her behaviour before this accident and after it was so pointed\nand striking, that it was impossible to mistake the grateful sense she\nhad ever retained of the kindness which had been shown to her.\"\n\nSpaniels in cover are merry and cheerful companions, all life and\nanimation. They hunt, they frisk about, watching the movements of\ntheir master, and are indefatigable in their exertions to find game\nfor him. Their neat shape, their beautiful coats, their cleanly\nhabits, their insinuating attention, incessant attendance, and\nfaithful obedience, insure for them general favour. It is almost\nimpossible, therefore, not to have the greatest attachment and\naffection for them, especially as few dogs evince so much sagacity,\nsincerity, patience, fidelity, and gratitude. From the time they are\nthrown off in the field, as a proof of the pleasure they feel in being\nemployed, the tail is in perpetual motion, upon the increased\nvibration of which the experienced sportsman well knows when he is\ngetting nearer to the game. As the dog approaches it, the more\nenergetic he becomes. Tremulous whimpers escape him as a matter of\ndoubt occurs, and he is all eagerness as he hits again on the scent.\nThe Clumber breed of spaniels have long been celebrated for their\nstrength and powers of endurance, their unerring nose, and for hunting\nmute--a great qualification where game abounds. This breed has been\npreserved in its purity by the successive Dukes of Newcastle, and may\nbe considered as an aristocratic apanage to their country seats. Nor\nshould the fine breed of spaniels belonging to the Earl of Albemarle\nbe passed by in silence. They are black and tan, of a large size, with\nlong ears, and very much feathered about the legs. They are excellent\nretrievers; and those who have seen will not soon forget Sir Edwin\nLandseer's charming picture of the late Lord Albemarle's celebrated\ndog Chancellor, and one of his progeny, holding a dead rabbit between\nthem, as if equally eager to bring it to their amiable master. These\ndogs, like those of the Clumber breed, hunt mute, and seldom range out\nof shot.\n\nWhile on the subject of Lord Albemarle's breed of dogs, I may mention\nan extraordinary fact which I noticed in a former work, and which I\nwitnessed myself. I allude to the circumstance of a favourite dog\nhaving died after producing a litter of puppies, which were adopted,\nsuckled, and brought up by a young bitch of the same breed, who never\nhad any whelps of her own, or indeed was in the way of having any. The\nflow of milk of the foster-mother was quite sufficient for the\nsustenance of the adopted offspring, and enabled her to support and\nbring them up with as much care and affection as if they had been her\nown. Here was an absence of that _notus odor_ which enables animals to\ndistinguish their young from those of others, and also of that\ndistension of milk which makes the suckling their young so delightful\nto them. Indeed it may be observed how beautifully and providentially\nit has been ordered, that the process of suckling their young is as\npleasurable to the parent animal as it is essential to the support of\nthe infant progeny. The mammae of animals become painful when\nover-distended with milk. Drawing off that fluid removes positive\nuneasiness and affords positive pleasure. In the present instance,\nhowever, nothing of the sort was the case, and therefore we can only\nlook to that kindliness of disposition and intelligence with which\nmany animals are so strongly endowed as the reason of the singular\nadoption referred to. I am aware that this fact has been doubted, but\nit is too well known and authenticated to admit of the possibility of\nany mistake. In this instance it must be allowed that the usually\ndefined bounds of instinct were exceeded. If so, distress at hearing\nthe cries of the helpless young must have acted forcibly on the kindly\nfeelings of a poor brute, and thus induced her to act in the manner I\nhave described.\n\nSpaniels, like other dogs, possess the power of finding their way to\ntheir homes from distances of considerable extent, and over ground\nthey have not before traversed.\n\nA lady residing at Richmond (Mrs. Grosvenor) gave the Rev. Leonard\nJenyns the following anecdote of a dog and cat. A little Blenheim\nspaniel of hers once accompanied her to the house of a relative, where\nit was taken into the kitchen to be fed, when two large favourite cats\nflew at it several times, and scratched it severely. The spaniel was\nin the habit of following its mistress in her walks in the garden, and\nby degrees it formed a friendship with a young cat of the gardener's,\nwhich it tempted into the house,--first into the hall, and then into\nthe kitchen,--where, on finding one of the large cats, the spaniel and\nits ally fell on it together, and, without further provocation, beat\nit well; they then waited for the other, which they served in the same\nmanner, and finally drove both cats from the kitchen. The two friends\ncontinued afterwards to eat off the same plate as long as the spaniel\nremained with her mistress in the house.\n\nA gentleman residing at Worcester had a favourite spaniel, which he\nbrought with him to London inside the coach. After having been in town\na day or two he missed the dog, and wrote to acquaint his family at\nWorcester of his loss. He received an answer informing him that he\nneed not distress himself about \"Rose,\" as she had arrived at her old\nhouse at Worcester five days after she had been lost in London, but\nvery thin and out of condition. This same dog was a great favourite,\nand much domesticated. She formed a friendship with the cat, and when\nbefore the fire the latter would lie down in the most familiar manner\nby the side of the dog. When the dog had puppies, the cat was in the\nhabit of sucking her; and it happened more than once that both had\nyoung ones at the same time, when the cat might be seen sucking the\nbitch, and the kittens taking their nourishment from the cat.\n\nA friend of mine, who then resided in South Wales, had a team of\nspaniels, which he used for woodcock shooting. As he was leaving the\ncountry for a considerable length of time, he gave permission to some\nof his neighbours to take out his spaniels when they wanted them. One\nof these was a remarkably good dog, but of rather a surly disposition,\nand had, in consequence, been but little petted or noticed by his\nmaster. Notwithstanding this, nothing could induce him either to\nfollow or hunt with those to whom he was lent. In order, therefore, to\nmake him of any use, it was necessary to get his feeder to accompany\nthe shooting party, and the dog would then take to hunt in cover; but\nif this man returned home, the dog would find it out and be there\nbefore him. At the end of nearly six years his master returned into\nWales, and near the house discovered his old dog, apparently asleep.\nKnowing his ferocious disposition, he did not venture to go close to\nhim, but called him by name, which did not appear to excite the\nanimal's attention. No sooner, however, did the dog hear an old\nexciting _cover-call_, than he jumped up, sprang to his old master,\nand showed his affection for him in every possible way. When the\nshooting season came, he proved himself to be as good a dog as ever.\n\nMons. Blaze says, that a fondness for the chase does not always make a\ndog forget his fidelity to his master. He was one day shooting wild\nducks with a friend near Versailles, when, as soon as the first shot\nwas fired, a fine spaniel dog joined and began to caress them. They\nshot during the whole day, and the dog hunted with the greatest zeal\nand alacrity. Supposing him to be a stray dog, they began to think of\nappropriating him to themselves; but as soon as the sport was over,\nthe dog ran away. They afterwards discovered that he belonged to one\nof the keepers, who was confined to his house by illness. His duty,\nhowever, was to shoot ducks on one particular day of the week, when he\nwas accompanied by this spaniel; he lived six miles from the spot, and\nthe dog, knowing the precise day, had come there to enjoy his usual\nsport, and then returned to his master.\n\nOne of the most extraordinary cases on record of a friendship between\ntwo most dissimilar animals, a spaniel and a partridge, is narrated by\na writer in whom implicit confidence may be placed:--\"We were lately\n(in 1823) visiting in a house, where a very pleasing and singular\nportrait attracted our observation: it was that of a young lady,\nrepresented with a partridge perched upon her shoulder, and a dog with\nhis feet on her arm. We recognised it as a representation of the lady\nof the house; but were at a loss to account for the odd association of\nher companions. She observed our surprise, and at once gave the\nhistory of the bird and the spaniel. They were both, some years back,\ndomesticated in her family. The dog was an old parlour favourite, who\nwent by the name of Tom; the partridge was more recently introduced\nfrom France, and answered to the equally familiar name of Bill. It\nwas rather a dangerous experiment to place them together, for Tom was\na lively and spirited creature, very apt to torment the cats, and to\nbark at any object which roused his instinct. But the experiment was\ntried; and Bill, being very tame, did not feel much alarm at his\nnatural enemy. They were, of course, shy at first; but this shyness\ngradually wore off: the bird became less timid, and the dog less bold.\nThe most perfect friendship was at length established between them.\nWhen the hour of dinner arrived, the partridge invariably flew on his\nmistress's shoulder, calling with that shrill note which is so well\nknown to sportsmen; and the spaniel leapt about with equal ardour. One\ndish of bread and milk was placed on the floor, out of which the\nspaniel and bird fed together. After their social meal, the dog would\nretire to a corner to sleep, while the partridge would nestle between\nhis legs, and never stir till his favourite awoke. Whenever the dog\naccompanied his mistress out, the bird displayed the utmost\ndisquietude till his return; and once, when the partridge was shut up\nby accident a whole day, the dog searched about the house, with a\nmournful cry which indicated the strength of his affection. The\nfriendship of Tom and Bill was at length fatally terminated. The\nbeautiful little dog was stolen; and the bird from that time refused\nfood, and died on the seventh day, a victim to his grief.\"\n\nA friend of mine has a small spaniel, which very recently showed\ngreat sagacity. This dog, which is much attached to him, was left\nunder the care of a servant while his master paid a visit of a few\nweeks in Hampshire. The poor animal was so miserable during his\nabsence, that he was informed of it, and directed the dog to be sent\nto him in a hamper, which was done. He was overjoyed at the sight of\nhis kind master, and remained perfectly contented at his new abode.\nWhen preparations were making for his departure, the day before it\ntook place, the dog was evidently aware of what was going forward, and\nshowed his dread of being again left behind, by keeping as close as\npossible to the feet of his master during the evening. On getting up\nvery early the next morning, before daylight, he found on opening his\ndoor that the apprehensive animal was lying before it, although it was\nwinter, and very cold. At breakfast the dog not only nestled against\nhis feet, but rubbed himself so much against them, that he was at last\nturned out of the room. On going into his dressing-room, where the dog\nhad been in the habit of sleeping in a warm basket before a good fire,\nhe found him coiled up in his portmanteau, which had been left open\nnearly packed.\n\nIn this instance, the animal's knowledge of what was going forward was\nvery evident, and his fear of being left behind could not be more\nstrongly expressed; thus affording another proof that animals are\npossessed of a faculty much beyond mere instinct.\n\nA young gentleman lately residing in Edinburgh was master of a\nhandsome spaniel bitch, which he had bought from a dealer in dogs. The\nanimal had been educated to steal for the benefit of its protector;\nbut it was some time ere his new master became aware of this\nirregularity of morals, and he was not a little astonished and teazed\nby its constantly bringing home articles of which it had feloniously\nobtained possession. Perceiving, at length, that the animal proceeded\nsystematically in this sort of behaviour, he used to amuse his\nfriends, by causing the spaniel to give proofs of her sagacity in the\nSpartan art of privately stealing; putting, of course, the shopkeepers\nwhere he meant she should exercise her faculty on their guard as to\nthe issue.\n\nThe process was curious, and excites some surprise at the pains which\nmust have been bestowed to qualify the animal for these practices. As\nsoon as the master entered the shop, the dog seemed to avoid all\nappearance of recognizing or acknowledging any connexion with him, but\nlounged about in an indolent, disengaged, and independent sort of\nmanner, as if she had come into the shop of her own accord. In the\ncourse of looking over some wares, his master indicated by a touch on\nthe parcel and a look towards the spaniel, that which he desired she\nshould appropriate, and then left the shop. The dog, whose watchful\neye caught the hint in an instant, instead of following his master out\nof the shop, continued to sit at the door, or lie by the fire,\nwatching the counter, until she observed the attention of the people\nof the shop withdrawn from the prize which she wished to secure.\nWhenever she saw an opportunity of doing so, as she imagined,\nunobserved, she never failed to jump upon the counter with her fore\nfeet, possess herself of the gloves, or whatever else had been pointed\nout to her, and escape from the shop to join her master.\n\nA gentleman lately communicated to me the following fact:--\n\nHis avocations frequently took him by the side of St. Bride's\nChurchyard, in London. Whenever he passed it, in the course of some\ntwo or three years, he always saw a spaniel at one particular\ngrave--it was the grave of his master. There, month after month, and\nyear after year, did this faithful animal remain, as if to guard the\nremains of the being he loved. No cold, however severe, no rain,\nhowever violent, no sun, however hot, could drive this affectionate\ncreature from a spot which was so endeared to him. The good-natured\nsexton of the churchyard, (and the fact is recorded to his honour,)\nbrought food daily to the dog, and then pitying his exposure to the\nweather, scooped out a hole by the side of the grave, and thatched it\nover.\n\nThe following is from the Percy collection of Anecdotes:--\n\nTwo spaniels, mother and son, were self-hunting in Mr. Drake's woods,\nnear Amersham, in Bucks. The gamekeeper shot the mother; the son,\nfrightened, ran away for an hour or two, and then returned to look\nfor his mother. Having found her dead body, he laid himself down by\nher, and was found in that situation the next day by his master, who\ntook him home, together with the body of the mother. Six weeks did\nthis affectionate creature refuse all consolation, and almost all\nnutriment. He became, at length, universally convulsed, and died of\ngrief.\n\nThese two anecdotes would form a pretty picture of fidelity and\nkindness, and there is one (I need not mention Sir Edwin Landseer) who\nwould do justice to them.\n\nI may here remark, that the dogs of poor people generally show more\nattachment to their masters than those of the rich. Their fidelity\nappears greater, and more lasting. Misery would seem to tighten the\ncord of affection between them. They both suffer the same privations\ntogether of hunger, cold, and thirst, but these never shake the\naffection of a dog for his master. The animal's resignation is\nperfect, and his love unbounded. How beautifully has Sir Walter Scott\ndescribed the affection of a dog for his master, who fell down a\nprecipice in a fog near the Helvellyn Mountains, in Cumberland, and\nwas dashed to pieces. It was not till more than three months\nafterwards that his remains were discovered, when his faithful dog was\nstill guarding them.\n\n   \"Dark green was the spot 'mid the brown mountain heather,\n      Where the pilgrim of nature lay stretch'd in decay;\n    Like the corpse of an outcast abandon'd to weather,\n      'Till the mountain winds wasted the tenantless clay.\n    Nor yet quite deserted, though lonely extended,\n    For faithful in death his mute fav'rite attended,\n    The much-lov'd remains of his master defended,\n      And chas'd the hill fox and the raven away.\"\n\nNor are the preceding anecdotes solitary instances of the affection of\ndogs for their departed masters. Mr. Youatt, in his work on \"Humanity\nto Brutes,\" which does him so much credit, has recorded the following\nfact, very similar to the one already given:--\n\nOpposite to the house of a gentleman, near the churchyard of St.\nOlave, Southwark, where the receptacles of humanity are in many parts\ndilapidated, was an aperture just large enough to admit a dog. It led\nalong a kind of sink to a dark cavity, close to which a person had\nrecently been buried. It was inhabited by his dog, who was to be seen\noccasionally moving into or out of the cavern, which he had taken\npossession of the day of the funeral. How he obtained any food during\nthe first two or three months no one knew, but he at length attracted\nthe attention of a gentleman who lived opposite, and who ordered his\nservant regularly to supply the dog with food. He used, after a while,\nto come occasionally to this house for what was provided for him. He\nwas not sullen, but there was a melancholy expression in his\ncountenance, which, once observed, would never be forgotten. As soon\nas he had finished his hasty meal, he would gaze for a moment on his\nbenefactor. It was an expressive look, but one which could not be\nmisunderstood. It conveyed all the thanks that a broken heart could\ngive. He then entombed himself once more for three or four days, when\nhe crawled out again with his eyes sunk and his coat dishevelled. Two\nyears he remained faithful to the memory of the being he had lost, and\nthen, according to the most authentic account of him, having been\nmissing several days, he was found dead in his retreat.\n\nFrom a letter written by a gentleman at Dijon in France, to his friend\nin London, dated August 15, 1764, we have the following account of a\nmurder discovered by a dog:--\n\n\"Since my arrival here a man has been broken on the wheel, with no\nother proof to condemn him than that of a water-spaniel. The\ncircumstances attending it being so very singular and striking, I beg\nleave to communicate them to you. A farmer, who had been to receive a\nsum of money, was waylaid, robbed, and murdered, by two villains. The\nfarmer's dog returned with all speed to the house of the person who\nhad paid the money, and expressed such amazing anxiety that he would\nfollow him, pulling him several times by the sleeve and skirt of the\ncoat, that, at length, the gentleman yielded to his importunity. The\ndog led him to the field, a little from the roadside, where the body\nlay. From thence the gentleman went to a public-house, in order to\nalarm the country. The moment he entered, (as the two villains were\nthere drinking,) the dog seized the murderer by the throat, and the\nother made his escape. This man lay in prison three months, during\nwhich time they visited him once a-week with the spaniel, and though\nthey made him change his clothes with other prisoners, and always\nstand in the midst of a crowd, yet did the animal always find him out,\nand fly at him. On the day of trial, when the prisoner was at the bar,\nthe dog was let loose in the court-house, and in the midst of some\nhundreds he found him out (though dressed entirely in new clothes),\nand would have torn him to pieces had he been allowed; in consequence\nof which he was condemned, and at the place of execution he confessed\nthe fact. Surely so useful, so disinterestedly faithful an animal,\nshould not be so barbarously treated as I have often seen them,\nparticularly in London.\"\n\nThe following anecdote has been well authenticated, and the fact which\nit records is still remembered by many individuals yet alive:--\n\nMr. Alderman Yearsley, of Congleton, in Cheshire, had a favourite\nlarge water-spaniel named Fanny, which, in the hands of Providence,\nwas the instrument of saving a very valuable life.\n\nIn the year 1774 Mr. Yearsley had gone out one evening with a friend\nto a tavern, and the dog accompanied him. A short time before he was\nexpected home, and while Mrs. Yearsley happened to be washing her\nhands in the back kitchen, the spaniel returned and scratched at the\ndoor for admittance. Being let in, she followed her mistress into the\nkitchen, where she set up a strange sort of whining, or barking, and\nturned towards the street-door, as if beckoning her mistress to\nfollow. This she repeated several times, to the great astonishment of\nthe lady. At length a thought struck her that Mr. Yearsley might have\nmet with some accident in the street, and that the spaniel was come to\nguide her to her husband. Alarmed at this idea, she hastily followed\nthe animal, which led her to Mr. Yearsley, whom she found in perfect\nhealth, sitting in the house to which he had gone. She told him the\ncause of her coming, and got herself laughed at for her pains. But\nwhat were the feelings of both, when they were informed by their next\nneighbours that the kitchen fell in almost the very instant Mrs.\nYearsley had shut the street-door, and that the wash-hand basin she\nhad left was crushed into a thousand pieces! The animal was ever\nafterwards treated with no ordinary attention, and died thirteen years\nlater, at the age of sixteen. Her death, we regret to add, was\noccasioned by the bite of a mad dog.\n\nIn the \"Notes of a Naturalist,\" published in Chambers' \"Edinburgh\nJournal,\" a work which cannot be too much commended for its agreeable\ninformation, is the following anecdote, which I give with the remarks\nof the author upon it:--\n\n\"It appears to me, that in the general manifestations of the animal\nmind, some one of the senses is employed in preference to the\nothers--that sense, for instance, which is most acute and perfect in\nthe animal. In the dog, for example, the sense of smell predominates;\nand we accordingly find that, through the medium of this sense, his\nmental faculties are most commonly exercised. A gentleman had a\nfavourite spaniel, which for a long time was in the habit of\naccompanying him in all his walks, and became his attached companion.\nThis gentleman had occasion to leave home, and was absent for more\nthan a year, during which time he had never seen the dog. On his\nreturn along with a friend, while yet at a little distance from the\nhouse, they perceived the spaniel lying beside the gate. He thought\nthat this would be a good opportunity of testing the memory of his\nfavourite; and he accordingly arranged with his companion, who was\nquite unknown to the dog, that they should both walk up to the animal,\nand express no signs of recognition. As they both approached nearer,\nthe dog started up, and gazed at them attentively; but he discovered\nno signs of recognition, even at their near approach. At last he came\nup to the stranger, put his nose close to his clothes, and smelt him,\nwithout any signs of emotion. He then did the same to his old master;\nbut no sooner had he smelt him, than recognition instantly took place;\nhe leaped up to his face repeatedly, and showed symptoms of the most\nextravagant joy. He followed him into the house, and watched his every\nmovement, and could by no means be diverted from his person. Here was\nan instance of deficient memory through the organs of sight, but an\naccurate recollection through the organs of smell.\" In a preceding\nanecdote, I have recorded an instance of a spaniel recognising the\nvoice of his master after a lapse of six years. In that case, it was\nevident that the recollection of a particular sound enabled the dog to\nknow his master, without having had recourse to the sense of smelling,\nwhich, however, would probably have been equally available had it been\nexercised.\n\nAbout the year 1800, Mrs. Osburn, who lived a few miles out of London,\nwent to town to receive a large sum of money granted her by Parliament\nfor discovering a lithontryptic medicine. She received the money, and\nreturned back with it in her own carriage to the country, without\nanything particular happening to her on the road. It was evening when\nshe arrived at home; and being fatigued with her journey, she retired\nearly to rest. On her stepping into bed, she was somewhat surprised at\nthe importunities of a small King Charles's dog, which was a great\npet, and always slept in her bedchamber. He became exceedingly\ntroublesome, and kept pulling the bedclothes with all his strength.\nShe chid him repeatedly, and in an angry tone of voice desired him to\nlie still, that she might go to sleep. The dog, however, still\npersisted in his efforts, and kept pulling the bedclothes; and at\nlength leaped on the bed, and endeavoured with the most determined\nperseverance to pull off the bedclothes. Mrs. Osburn then conceived\nthere must be some extraordinary cause for this unusual conduct on\nthe part of her dog, and leaped out of bed; and being a lady of some\ncourage, put on her petticoat, and placed a brace of pistols by her\nside, which she had always ready loaded in a closet adjoining her\nbed-room, and proceeded down-stairs. When she had reached the first\nlanding-place, she saw her coachman coming down the private staircase,\nwhich led to the servants' rooms, with a lighted candle in his hand,\nand full dressed. Suspecting his intentions were bad, and with heroic\npresence of mind, she presented one of her pistols, and threatened to\nlodge the contents of it in him, unless he returned to bed forthwith.\nSubdued by her determined courage, he quietly and silently obeyed. She\nthen went into a back-parlour, when she heard a distant whispering of\nvoices; she approached the window, and threw it up, and fired one of\nher pistols out of it, in the direction from which the noise\nproceeded. Everything became silent, and not a whisper was to be\nheard. After looking through the different rooms on the lower floor,\nand finding all right, she proceeded to bed and secured the door, and\nnothing further occurred that night. Next morning she arose at an\nearly hour, went into the garden, and in the direction which she had\nfired the preceding night she discovered drops of blood, which she\ntraced to the other end of the garden. This left no doubt on her mind\nof what had been intended. Thinking it imprudent to keep so large a\nsum of money in her house, she ordered her carriage to drive to town,\nwhere she deposited her cash. She then repaired to the house of Sir\nJohn Fielding, and related to him the whole affair, who advised her to\npart with her coachman immediately, and that he would investigate the\nmatter, and, if possible, discover and convict the offenders. But the\nparties concerned in this affair were never discovered; for the mere\nfact of the coachman being found coming down the stair was not\nsufficient to implicate him, although there were strong grounds of\nsuspicion. Thus, by the instinct and fidelity of this little animal,\nwas robbery, and most likely murder, prevented.\n\nA spaniel belonging to a medical gentleman, with whom I am acquainted,\nresiding at Richmond in Surrey, was in the habit of accompanying him\nwhen he went out at night to visit his patients. If he was shut out of\nthe house of a patient, as was frequently the case, he would return\nhome; and whatever the hour of the night might be, he would take the\nknocker in his mouth, and knock till the door was opened. It should be\nmentioned that the knocker was below a half-glazed door, so that it\nwas easily within the dog's reach.\n\n\"In the capital of a German principality,\" says Capt. Brown, \"the\nmagistrates once thought it expedient to order all dogs that had not\nthe mark of having been wormed, to be seized and confined for a\ncertain time in a large yard without the walls of the town. These\ndogs, which were of all possible varieties, made a hideous noise while\nthus confined together; but a spaniel, which, as the person that had\nthe care of them observed, sat apart from the rest in a corner of the\nyard, seemed to consider the circumstances with greater deliberation.\nHe attended to the manner in which the gate of the yard was opened and\nshut; and, taking a favourable opportunity, leapt with his forepaws\nupon the latch, opened the gate, looked round upon the clamorous\nmultitude, and magnanimously led them the way out of the prison. He\nconducted them in triumph through the gate of the town; upon which\nevery dog ran home exulting to his master.\"\n\nThe following anecdote, which was sent to me by the gentleman who\nwitnessed the occurrence, proves the sense and observation of a\nspaniel. He possessed one which was a great favourite, and a constant\ncompanion in all his rambles. One day, in passing through a field of\nyoung turnips, he pulled up one of them, and after washing it\ncarefully in a rivulet, he cut off the top, and ate the other part.\nDuring this time the dog eyed him attentively, and then proceeded to\none of the growing turnips, drew it from the earth, went up briskly to\nthe rivulet, and after dashing it about some time till he caused the\nwater to froth considerably, he laid it down, and holding the turnip\ninverted, and by the top, he deliberately gnawed the whole of it off,\nand left the top, thus closely imitating the actions of his master.\n\nA gentleman, who generally resided at Boston in Lincolnshire, had also\na house at Chepstow in Monmouthshire, to which he occasionally went in\nthe summer. While at the latter place, a small spaniel dog which a\nfriend at Chepstow had given him was taken on his return in a carriage\nto Boston. On the Sunday evening after the arrival at that place, the\nspaniel was attacked by a large dog, when out walking with his master\non the river bank, and ran away. Nothing was heard of him until the\nreceipt of a letter from Chepstow, announcing his arrival at that\nplace in a famished and travel-worn condition. The distance is one\nhundred and eighty-four miles.\n\nThe following anecdote is related by Mr. Blaine:--\n\n\"I was once called from dinner in a hurry to attend to something that\nhad occurred; unintentionally I left a favourite cat in the room,\ntogether with a no less favourite spaniel. When I returned I found the\nlatter, which was not a small figure, extending her whole length along\nthe table by the side of a leg of mutton which I had left. On my\nentrance she showed no signs of fear, nor did she immediately alter\nher position. I was sure, therefore, that none but a good motive had\nplaced her in this extraordinary situation, nor had I long to\nconjecture. Puss was skulking in a corner, and though the mutton was\nuntouched, yet her conscious fears clearly evinced that she had been\ndriven from the table in the act of attempting a robbery on the meat,\nto which she was too prone, and that her situation had been occupied\nby this faithful spaniel to prevent a repetition of the attempt. Here\nwas fidelity united with great intellect, and wholly free from the aid\nof instinct. This property of guarding victuals from the cat, or from\nother dogs, was a daily practice of this animal; and, while cooking\nwas going forward, the floor might have been strewed with eatables,\nwhich would have been all safe from her own touch, and as carefully\nguarded from that of others. A similar property is common to many\ndogs, but to spaniels particularly.\"\n\nIt is impossible in a work on dogs to omit the insertion of some\npretty lines on a spaniel by Mrs. Barrett Browning, and which do so\nmuch credit to her kindly feelings and poetic talents:--\n\n   \"Yet, my pretty sportive friend,\n    Little is't to such an end\n      That I praise thy rareness!\n    Other dogs may be thy peers,\n    Haply, in those drooping ears,\n      And this glossy fairness.\n\n    But of thee it shall be said,\n    'This dog watched beside a bed\n      Day and night unweary,--\n    Watched within a curtained room\n    Where no sunbeam broke the gloom\n      Round the sick and dreary.\n\n    Roses, gathered for a vase,\n    In that chamber died apace,\n      Beam and breeze resigning--\n    This dog only waited on,\n    Knowing that when light is gone\n      Love remains for shining.\n\n    Other dogs, in thymy dew,\n    Tracked the hares and followed through\n      Sunny moor or meadow--\n    This dog only crept and crept\n    Next a languid cheek that slept,\n      Sharing in the shadow.\n\n    Other dogs of loyal cheer\n    Bounded at the whistle clear,\n      Up the woodside hieing--\n    This dog only watched in reach\n    Of a faintly uttered speech,\n      Or a louder sighing.\n\n    And if one or two quick tears\n    Dropped upon his glossy ears,\n      Or a sigh came double,--\n    Up he sprang in eager haste,\n    Fawning, fondling, breathing fast,\n      In a tender trouble.'\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: FRENCH POODLE.]\n\nTHE POODLE.\n\n   \"With all the graces of his fatherland;\n    With well-cut coat, and ever ready hand--\n    See--the French poodle sports his life away;\n    Obedient, wise, affectionate, and gay.\"\n                                             _Chronicles of Animals._\n\n\nThese dogs, like all others, possess many amiable qualities, and are\nremarkable for the facility with which they learn several amusing\ntricks, and for their extraordinary sagacity. This latter quality has\nfrequently made them a great source of profit to their masters, so\nthat it may be said of them, \"c'est encore une des plus profitables\nmanieres d'etre chien qui existent.\" A proof of this is related by M.\nBlaze in his history of the dog, and was recorded by myself many years\nbefore his work appeared.\n\nA shoe-black on the Pont Neuf at Paris had a poodle dog, whose\nsagacity brought no small profit to his master. If the dog saw a\nperson with well-polished boots go across the bridge, he contrived to\ndirty them, by having first rolled himself in the mud of the Seine.\nHis master was then employed to clean them. An English gentleman, who\nhad suffered more than once from the annoyance of having his boots\ndirtied by a dog, was at last induced to watch his proceedings, and\nthus detected the tricks he was playing for his master's benefit. He\nwas so much pleased with the animal's sagacity, that he purchased him\nat a high price and conveyed him to London. On arriving there, he was\nconfined to the house till he appeared perfectly satisfied with his\nnew master and his new situation. He at last, however, contrived to\nescape, and made his way back to Paris, where he rejoined his old\nmaster, and resumed his former occupation. I was at Paris some years\nago, where this anecdote was related to me, and it is now published in\nthe records of the French Institute.\n\nPerhaps the most remarkable instance known of what are called \"Learned\nDogs,\" is that of two poodles, which were trained at Milan, and\nexhibited at Paris in the spring of 1830. The account of them is given\nby a lady, whose veracity is not doubtful, and who herself saw their\nperformance. \"The elder, named Fido,\" says she, \"is white, with some\nblack patches on his head and back; and the younger, who is called\nBianco, is also white, but with red spots. Fido is a grave and serious\npersonage, walks with dignity round the circle assembled to see him,\nand appears much absorbed in reflection. Bianco is young and giddy,\nbut full of talent when he chooses to apply it. Owing to his more\nsedate disposition, however, Fido is called upon to act the principal\npart of the exhibition. A word is dictated to him from the Greek,\nLatin, Italian, German, French, or English language, and selected from\na vocabulary where fifty words in each tongue are inscribed, and which\nall together make three hundred different combinations. An alphabet is\nplaced before Fido, and from it he takes the letters which compose the\ngiven word, and lays them in proper order at the feet of his master.\nOn one occasion he was told to spell the word Heaven, and he quickly\nplaced the letters till he came to the second e; he stood for an\ninstant as if puzzled, but in a moment after he took the e out of the\nfirst syllable, and put it into the second. His attainments in\northography, however, are not so surprising as those in arithmetic. He\npractises the four rules with extraordinary facility, arranges the\ndouble ciphers as he did the double vowels in the word Heaven, and\nrarely makes an error. When such does occur, his more thoughtless\ncompanion is called in to rectify it, which he invariably does with\nthe greatest quickness; but as he had rather play than work, and pulls\nFido by the ears to make him as idle as himself, he is quickly\ndismissed. One day, the steady Fido spelt the word Jupiter with a _b_\ninstead of a _p_; Bianco was summoned to his aid, who, after\ncontemplating the word, pushed out the _b_ with his nose, and seizing\na _p_ between his teeth, put it into the vacancy. Fido is remarkable\nfor the modest firmness with which he insists upon his correctness\nwhen he feels convinced of it himself; for a lady having struck a\nrepeating watch in his ear, he selected an 8 for the hour, and a 6 for\nthe three-quarters. The company present, and his master, called out to\nhim he was wrong. He reviewed his numbers and stood still. His master\ninsisted, and he again examined his ciphers; after which he went\nquietly, but not in the least abashed, into the middle of the carpet,\nand looked at his audience. The watch was then sounded again, and it\nwas found to have struck two at every quarter; and Fido received the\nplaudits which followed with as gentle a demeanour as he had borne the\naccusation of error.\n\n\"One occupation seems to bring the giddy Bianco to the gravity of the\nelder savant; and when the spectators are tired of arithmetic and\northography, the two dogs either sit down to _ecarte_, or become the\nantagonists of one of the company. They ask for, or refuse cards, as\ntheir hands require, with a most important look; they cut at the\nproper times, and never mistake one suit for another. They have\nrecourse to their ciphers to mark their points; and on one occasion\nBianco having won, he selected his number, and on being asked what\nwere the gains of his adversary, he immediately took an O between his\nteeth, and showed it to the querist; and both seemed to know all the\nterms of the game as thoroughly as the most experienced card-players.\nAll this passes without the slightest visible or audible sign between\nthe poodles and their master; the spectators are placed within three\nsteps of the carpet on which the performance goes forward; people have\ngone for the sole purpose of watching the master; everybody visits\nthem, and yet no one has hitherto found out the mode of communication\nestablished between them and their owner. Whatever this communication\nmay be, it does not deduct from the wonderful intelligence of these\nanimals; for there must be a multiplicity of signs, not only to be\nunderstood with eyes and ears, but to be separated from each other in\ntheir minds, or to be combined one with another, for the various\ntrials in which they are exercised.\n\n\"I have seen learned pigs and ponies, and can, after these spectacles,\nreadily imagine how the extraordinary sagacity of a dog may be brought\nto a knowledge of the orthography of three hundred words; but I must\nconfess myself puzzled by the acquirements of these poodles in\narithmetic, which must depend upon the will of the spectator who\nproposes the numbers; but that which is most surprising of all is the\nskill with which they play _ecarte_. The gravity and attention with\nwhich they carry on their game is almost ludicrous; and the\nsatisfaction of Bianco when he marks his points is perfectly evident.\"\n\nNor is this a solitary instance of the extraordinary sagacity of the\npoodle. A lady of my acquaintance had one for many years, who was her\nconstant companion both in the house and in her walks. When, however,\neither from business or indisposition, her mistress did not take her\nusual walk on Wimbledon Common, the dog, by jumping on a table, took\ndown the maid-servant's bonnet, and held it in her month till she\naccompanied the animal to the Common.\n\nA friend of mine had a poodle dog, who was not very obedient to his\ncall when he was taken out to run in the fields. A small whip was\ntherefore purchased, and the dog one day was chastised with it. The\nwhip was placed on a table in the hall of the house, and the next\nmorning it could not be found. It was soon afterwards discovered in\nthe coal-cellar. The dog was a second time punished with it, and again\nthe whip was missed. It was afterwards discovered that the dog had\nattempted to hide the instrument by which pain had been inflicted on\nhim. There certainly appears a strong approach to reason in this\nproceeding of the dog. _Cause_ and _effect_ seem to have been\nassociated in his mind, if his mode of proceeding may be called an\neffort of it.\n\nIn Messrs. Chambers' brochure of amusing anecdotes of dogs we find the\nfollowing:--\n\nAn aged gentleman has mentioned to us that, about fifty years ago, a\nFrenchman brought to London from eighty to a hundred dogs, chiefly\npoodles, the remainder spaniels, but all nearly of the same size, and\nof the smaller kind. On the education of these animals their\nproprietor had bestowed an immense deal of pains. From puppyhood\nupwards they had been taught to walk on their hind-legs, and maintain\ntheir footing with surprising ease in that unnatural position. They\nhad likewise been drilled into the best possible behaviour towards\neach other; no snarling, barking, or indecorous conduct took place\nwhen they were assembled in company. But what was most surprising of\nall, they were able to perform in various theatrical pieces of the\ncharacter of pantomimes, representing various transactions in heroic\nand familiar life, with wonderful fidelity. The object of their\nproprietor was, of course, to make money by their performances, which\nthe public were accordingly invited to witness in one of the minor\ntheatres.\n\nAmongst their histrionic performances was the representation of a\nsiege. On the rising of the curtain there appeared three ranges of\nramparts, one above the other, having salient angles and a moat, like\na regularly-constructed fortification. In the centre of the fortress\narose a tower, on which a flag was flying; while in the distance\nbehind appeared the buildings and steeples of a town. The ramparts\nwere guarded by soldiers in uniform, each armed with a musket or\nsword, of an appropriate size. All these were dogs, and their duty\nwas to defend the walls from an attacking party, consisting also of\ndogs, whose movements now commenced the operations of the siege. In\nthe foreground of the stage were some rude buildings and irregular\nsurfaces, from among which there issued a reconnoitring party; the\nchief, habited as an officer of rank, with great circumspection\nsurveyed the fortification; and his sedate movements, and his\nconsultations with the troops that accompanied him, implied that an\nattack was determined upon. But these consultations did not pass\nunobserved by the defenders of the garrison. The party was noticed by\na sentinel and fired upon; and this seemed to be the signal to call\nevery man to his post at the embrasures.\n\nShortly after, the troops advanced to the escalade; but to cross the\nmoat, and get at the bottom of the walls, it was necessary to bring up\nsome species of pontoon, and, accordingly, several soldiers were seen\nengaged in pushing before them wicker-work scaffoldings, which moved\non castors, towards the fortifications. The drums beat to arms, and\nthe bustle of warfare opened in earnest. Smoke was poured out in\nvolleys from shot-holes; the besieging forces pushed forward in\nmasses, regardless of the fire; the moat was filled with the crowd;\nand, amid much confusion and scrambling, scaling-ladders were raised\nagainst the walls. Then was the grand tug of war. The leaders of the\nforlorn hope who first ascended were opposed with great gallantry by\nthe defenders; and this was, perhaps, the most interesting part of\nthe exhibition. The chief of the assailants did wonders; he was seen\nnow here, now there, animating his men, and was twice hurled, with\nladder and followers, from the second gradation of ramparts: but he\nwas invulnerable, and seemed to receive an accession of courage on\nevery fresh repulse. The rattle of the miniature cannon, the roll of\nthe drums, the sound of trumpets, and the heroism of the actors on\nboth sides, imparted an idea of reality to the scene.\n\nAfter numerous hairbreadth escapes, the chief surmounted the third\nline of fortifications, followed by his troops; the enemy's standard\nwas hurled down, and the British flag hoisted in its place; the\nramparts were manned by the conquerors; and the smoke cleared away, to\nthe tune of \"God save the King.\"\n\nIt is impossible to convey a just idea of this performance, which\naltogether reflected great credit on its contriver, as also on the\nabilities of each individual dog. We must conclude that the firing\nfrom the embrasures, and some other parts of the _mechanique_, were\neffected by human agency; but the actions of the dogs were clearly\ntheir own, and showed what could be effected with animals by dint of\npatient culture.\n\nAnother specimen of these canine theatricals was quite a contrast to\nthe bustle of the siege. The scene was an assembly-room, on the sides\nand the further end of which seats were placed; while a music-gallery,\nand a profusion of chandeliers, gave a richness and truth to the\ngeneral effect. Livery-servants were in attendance on a few of the\ncompany, who entered and took their seats. Frequent knockings now\noccurred at the door, followed by the entrance of parties attired in\nthe fashion of the period. These were, of course, the same individuals\nwho had recently been in the deadly breach; but now all was\ntranquillity, elegance, and ease. Parties were formally introduced to\neach other with an appearance of the greatest decorum. The dogs\nintended to represent ladies were dressed in silks, gauzes, laces, and\ngay ribbons. Some wore artificial flowers, with flowing ringlets;\nothers wore the powdered and pomatumed head-dress, with caps and\nlappets, in ludicrous contrast to the features of the animals. The\nanimals which represented gentlemen were judiciously equipped; some as\nyouthful and others as aged beaux, regulated by their degrees of\nproficiency, since those most youthfully dressed were most attentive\nto the ladies. The frequent bow and return of curtsey produced great\nmirth in the audience. On a sudden the master of the ceremonies\nappeared; he wore a superb court-dress, and his manners were in\nagreement with his costume. To some of the gentlemen he gave merely a\nlook of recognition; to the ladies he was generally attentive; to some\nhe projected his paw familiarly, to others he bowed with respect; and\nintroduced one to another with an air of elegance that surprised and\ndelighted the spectators.\n\nAs the performance advanced the interest increased. The music was\nsoon interrupted by a loud knocking, which announced the arrival of\nsome important visitor. Several livery servants entered, and then a\nsedan-chair was borne in by appropriately dressed dogs; they removed\nthe poles, raised the head, and opened the door of the sedan; forth\ncame a lady, splendidly attired in spangled satin and jewels, and her\nhead decorated with a plume of ostrich feathers! She made a great\nimpression, and appeared as if conscious of her superior attraction;\nmeanwhile the chair was removed, the master of the ceremonies, in his\ncourt-dress, was in readiness to receive the _elegante_, and the bow\nand curtsey were admirably interchanged. The band now struck up an air\nof the kind to which ball-room companies are accustomed to promenade,\nand the company immediately quitted their seats and began to walk\nceremoniously in pairs round the room. Three of the ladies placed\ntheir arms under those of their attendant gentlemen. On seats being\nresumed, the master of the ceremonies and the lady who came in the\nsedan-chair arose; he led her to the centre of the room; Foote's\nminuet struck up; the pair commenced the movements with an attention\nto time; they performed the crossings and turnings, the advancings,\nretreatings, and obeisances, during which there was a perfect silence,\nand they concluded amid thunders of applause. What ultimately became\nof the ingenious manager with his company, our informant never heard.\n\nThe following anecdotes prove the strong affection and perseverance\nof the poodle. The late Duke of Argyll had a favourite dog of this\ndescription, who was his constant companion. This dog, on the occasion\nof one of the Duke's journeys to Inverary Castle, was, by some\naccident or mistake, left behind in London. On missing his master, the\nfaithful animal set off in search of him, and made his way into\nScotland, and was found early one morning at the gate of the castle.\nThe anecdote is related by the family, and a picture shown of the dog.\n\nA poor German artist, who was studying at Rome, had a poodle dog, who\nused to accompany him, when his funds would allow it, to an ordinary\nfrequented by other students. Here the dog got scraps enough to\nsupport him. His master, not being able to keep up the expense,\ndiscontinued his visits to the ordinary. The dog fared badly in\nconsequence, and at last his master returned to his friends in\nGermany, leaving the dog behind him. The poor animal slept at the top\nof the stairs leading to his master's room, but watched in the day\ntime at the door of the ordinary, and when he saw his former\nacquaintances crowding in, he followed at their heels, and thus\ngaining admittance was fed till his owner came back to resume his\nstudies.\n\nA gentleman possessed a poodle dog and a terrier, between whom a great\naffection existed. When the terrier was shut up, as was sometimes the\ncase, the poodle always hid such bones or meat as he could procure,\nand afterwards brought the terrier to the spot where they were\nconcealed. He was constantly watched, and observed to do this act of\nkindness.\n\nThe sagacity of the poodle is strongly shown by the following fact.\nMr. B----t, who was constantly in the habit of making tours on the\nContinent, was always accompanied by a poodle dog. In one of his\njourneys he was seated at a table-d'hote next to a person whose\nconversation he found so agreeable, that a sort of intimacy sprung up\nbetween them. The dog, however, for the first time he had ever done so\nto any one, showed a dislike to the stranger, and so much so, that Mr.\nB----t could not help remarking it. In the course of his tour he again\nfell in with the stranger, when the intimacy was renewed, and Mr.\nB----t offered him a seat in his carriage as they were both going the\nsame way. No sooner, however, had the stranger entered the carriage,\nthan the dog showed an increased dislike of him, which continued\nduring the course of the journey. At night they slept at a small inn,\nin a wild and somewhat unfrequented country, and on separating in the\nevening to go to their respective beds, the poodle evinced the\ngreatest anger, and was with difficulty restrained from attacking the\nstranger. In the middle of the night Mr. B----t was awoke by a noise\nin his room, and there was light enough for him to perceive that his\ndog had seized his travelling companion, who, upon being threatened,\nconfessed that he had entered the room for the purpose of\nendeavouring to purloin Mr. B----t's money, of which he was aware\nthat he possessed a considerable quantity. This is not a solitary\ninstance of an instinctive faculty which enables dogs to discriminate,\nby showing a strong dislike, the characters of particular individuals.\n\nA friend has sent me the following account of a poodle he once had:--\n\n\"Many years ago I had a poodle who was an excellent retriever. He was\na middle-sized, active dog, a first-rate waterman, with a nose so\nparticularly sensitive that no object, however minute, could escape\nits 'delicate investigation.' Philip was the hardiest animal in the\nworld--no sea would prevent him from carrying a dead bird through the\nboiling breakers, and I have seen him follow and secure a wounded\nmallard, although in the attempt his legs were painfully scarified in\nbreaking through a field of ice scarcely the thickness of a\ncrown-piece. Philip, though of French extraction, had decidedly Irish\npartialities. He delighted in a glass of grog; and no matter with what\nlabour and constancy he had returned from retrieving, he still enjoyed\na glass of punch. When he had drunk it, he was in high glee, running\nround and round to try and catch his own tail, and even then allowing\nthe cat to approach him, which he was by no means disposed to do at\nother times.\"\n\nWhen my daughter was in Germany, she sent me the following interesting\nanecdote of a poodle, the accuracy of which she had an opportunity of\nascertaining.\n\nAn inhabitant of Dresden had a poodle that he was fond of, and had\nalways treated kindly. For some reason or another he gave her to a\nfriend of his, a countryman in Possenderf, who lived three leagues\nfrom Dresden. This person, who well knew the great attachment of the\ndog to her former master, took care to keep her tied up, and would not\nlet her leave the house till he thought she had forgotten him. During\nthis time the poodle had young ones, three in number, which she\nnourished with great affection, and appeared to bestow upon them her\nwhole attention, and to have entirely given up her former uneasiness\nat her new abode. From this circumstance her owner thought she had\nforgotten her old master, and therefore no longer kept her a close\nprisoner. Very soon, however, the poodle was missing, and also the\nthree young ones, and nothing was heard of her for several days. One\nmorning his friend came to him from Dresden, and informed him that the\npreceding evening the poodle had come to his house with one of the\npuppies in her mouth, and that another had been found dead on the road\nto Possenderf. It appeared that the dog had started in the night,\ncarrying the puppies (who were not able to walk) one after the other,\na certain distance on the road to Dresden, with the evident intention\nof conveying them all to her much-loved home and master. The third\npuppy was never found, and is supposed to have been carried off by\nsome wild animal or bird, while the poor mother was in advance with\nthe others. The dead one had apparently perished from cold.\n\nThe late Dr. Chisholm of Canterbury had a remarkable poodle, which a\ncorrespondent informs me he has often seen. On one occasion he was\ntold, for the first time, by way of trial, to fetch his master's\nslippers. He went up-stairs, and brought down one only. He was then\ntold, \"You have brought one only, go and fetch the other;\" and the\nother was brought. The next evening the dog was again told to bring\nthe slippers. He went up-stairs, put one slipper within the other, and\nbrought both down. This dog appeared to understand much of our\nlanguage. When dining with Dr. Chisholm and others, his intelligence\nwas put to the proof by my correspondent. Some one would hide an\narticle, open the door, and bring in the dog, saying, \"Find\nso-and-so.\" The poodle used to look up steadily in the face of the\nspeaker, until he was told whether the article was hid high or low; he\nwould then search either on the ground, or on the chairs and\nfurniture, and bring the article, never taking any notice of any other\nthing that was lying about. He would, upon being ordered, go up-stairs\nand bring down a snuff-box, stick, pocket-handkerchief, or anything,\nunderstanding as readily what was said to him as if spoken to a\nservant.\n\nAnother poodle would go through the agonies of dying in a very\nsystematic manner. When he was ordered to die, he would tumble over on\none side, and then stretch himself out, and move his hind legs in\nsuch a way as expressed that he was in great pain, first slowly and\nafterwards very quickly. After a few convulsive throbs, indicated by\nputting his head and whole body in motion, he would stretch out all\nhis limbs and cease to move, lying on his back with his legs turned\nupwards, as if he had expired. In this situation he remained\nmotionless until he had his master's commands to get up.\n\nThe following anecdote was communicated to the Rev. Mr. Jenyns by Mrs.\nGrosvenor, of Richmond, Surrey:--\n\nA poodle dog belonging to a gentleman in Cheshire was in the habit of\nnot only going to church, but of remaining quietly in the pew during\nservice, whether his master was there or not. One Sunday the dam at\nthe head of a lake in that neighbourhood gave way, so that the whole\nroad was inundated. The congregation, in consequence, consisted of a\nvery few, who came from some cottages close by, but nobody attended\nfrom the great house. The clergyman informed the lady, that whilst\nreading the Psalms he saw his friend, the poodle, come slowly up the\naisle dripping with wet, having swam above a quarter of a mile to get\nto church. He went into the usual pew, and remained quietly there to\nthe end of the service.\n\nThe Marquess of Worcester (the late Duke of Beaufort), who served in\nthe Peninsular war, had a poodle which was taken from the grave of his\nmaster, a French officer, who fell at the battle of Salamanca, and\nwas buried on the spot. The dog had remained on the grave until he was\nnearly starved, and even then was removed with difficulty; so faithful\nare these animals in protecting the remains of those they loved.\n\nA poodle dog followed his master, a French officer, to the wars; the\nlatter was soon afterwards killed at the battle of Castella, in\nValencia, when his comrades endeavoured to carry the dog with them in\ntheir retreat; but the faithful animal refused to leave the corpse,\nand they left him. A military marauder, in going over the field of\nbattle, discovering the cross of the legion of honour on the dead\nofficer's breast, attempted to capture it, but the poodle instantly\nseized him by the throat, and would have ended his career had not a\ncomrade run the honest canine guardian through the body.\n\nMr. Blaine, in his \"Account of Dogs,\" says that, \"strange as it may\nappear, it is no less true, that a poodle dog actually scaled the high\nbuildings of my residence in Wells Street, Oxford Street, proceeded\nalong several roofs of houses, and made his way down by progressive\nbut very considerable leaps into distant premises; from whence, by\nwatching and stratagem, he gained the street, and returned home in\norder to join his mistress, for whose sake he had encountered these\ngreat risks.\"\n\nI am always glad to have an opportunity of acknowledging the kindness\nof my correspondents, and now do so to the clergyman who very kindly\nsent me the following anecdote, which I give in his own words:--\n\n\"I have a distinct remembrance of Froll or Frolic, a dog belonging to\nan aged relation, once the property of her deceased only son, which\nanimal, in his earlier days, doubtless gave evidence that his name was\nnot given him unadvisedly, but during the yearly visits of myself to\nthat kind and indulgent person, I can remember nothing but a rather\nsmall though fat unwieldy poodle, whose curly, glossy coat (preserved\nafter his death), long yellow ears, and black nose, the rest of his\nbody being perfectly white, betokened that he had been a beauty in his\ntime. Froll was still a prodigious favourite with his mistress,\nalthough I confess my feelings towards him were rather those of fear\nthan any other, for to touch him was quite sufficient to evoke a\ngrowl, or perchance a snap, from this pet of a dozen years or more. A\ncross, snappish fellow he was at best, and well he knew the length of\nTrusty the house-dog's chain, which less favoured quadruped was never\nlet loose by day, from a well-grounded fear that he might, if allowed,\nresent, by summary punishment, the constant insults he was doomed to\nsubmit to from this most petted and presumptuous myrmidon of the\ndrawing-room. With all this, although time and over-feeding had soured\nhis temper, Froll still retained much of, if not all, his former\nintelligence (a trait so peculiar to his species), declared by many\nlong-past but still vaunted proofs of his being a wonder in his way.\nOne of his peculiarities was a fondness for apples--not indeed all\napples, but those which grew on a particular tree, called 'Froll's\ntree,' and no others; this tree was, by the way, the best in the\ngarden, and the small, sweet, delicate fruit therefrom (my\nreminiscence is distinct on this point) were carefully preserved for\nthis canine favourite. Nothing would entice him to eat any other sort\nof apple. And in the season he would constantly urge his mistress into\nthe garden by repeated barking, and other unmistakable symptoms. His\ndaily meals, too, of which I think there were three regular ones, were\nevents in themselves, the careful attention to which tended perhaps to\nrelieve the monotony of a country life: they are indeed not speedily\nto be forgotten by those who witnessed them. He would take food from\nno one but his mistress or her maid, which latter person was his chief\npurveyor, who had been an inmate of the house contemporary with\nhimself, or I believe long before; but this feeding was generally a\ntask of great trouble, such coaxing and humouring on the one hand,\nsuch growling and snarling on the other, has been perhaps seldom\nheard. At length, after much beseeching on the part of the maid, and a\nfew words of entreaty from the mistress, he would condescend to eat;\nbut never, I believe, without some symptoms of discontent, how savoury\nsoever the morsel, submitting to that as a favour which is generally\nsnatched at and devoured with so much gusto and avidity by most others\nof his tribe. I should not have entered into these peculiarities,\nwhich are scarcely evidence of any intelligence beyond that of other\ndogs, were it not that the circumstances attending his death were\nreally extraordinary, the more so when the character of the dog is\nconsidered; and as we have so often heard of a presentiment of that\ngreat change being strongly imprinted on human minds, so there were\nnot wanting some of the then inmates of the house, who attributed his\nunwonted behaviour on the eve of his death to the same cause. The dog\nslept constantly in his mistress's bed-room, but, contrary to custom\non the night in question, he pertinaciously refused to remain there.\nMy brother and myself, who were then little boys, were, to our great\nsurprise, aroused in the course of the night by an unwonted scratching\nat the door of our apartment, which we immediately opened, and, to our\nequal delight and wonder, were saluted by Froll's jumping up and\nlicking our hands and faces--certainly he never appeared in better\nhealth and spirits in his life. Whether he did this to atone for his\nformer uncourteous behaviour towards us, or was urged by some\nunaccountable feeling of amiability as well as restlessness, I cannot\nsay, but certain it is his gentler faculties were that night for once\naroused, for this unaccustomed compliment I can safely affirm we never\npersonally received at any former period of our acquaintance. After a\ntime he left us, charmed at experiencing these new and flattering\ndemonstrations; which joy was, alas! doomed to be sadly and speedily\nextinguished. When the morning came, the distressed countenance of\nthe servant who called us, portended some evil tidings, which was\nquickly followed by the unexpected intelligence of the demise of poor\nFroll. We hastily accompanied the servant into the coachman's sleeping\napartment, and there, under the bed, lay the poor dog. It had pleased\nhim to go there to die, having previously aroused every individual in\nthe house during the night by scratching at their several chambers one\nafter another, and saluting them in the same amiable manner he had my\nbrother and myself.\"\n\nThis anecdote could be well authenticated by most of the persons then\nin the house, who are still alive.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE ESQUIMAUX DOG.\n\n\nDr. Richardson, in his \"American Fauna,\" mentions as a curious fact,\nthat those Indian nations who still preserve their ancient mode of\nlife, have dogs which bear a strong resemblance to wolves. Thus it is\nwith the Esquimaux dogs. They are extremely like the grey wolves of\nthe Arctic Circle in form and colour, and nearly equal to them in\nsize. They also bear some resemblance to the Pomeranian breed,\nalthough the latter are much smaller.\n\nIt is curious that almost every nation on earth has some particular\ntraditions regarding the dog. The Esquimaux, a nation inhabiting the\npolar regions, have a singular fable amongst them respecting the\norigin of the Dog-Rib Indians, a tribe which inhabits the northern\nconfines of the American continent. It is thus detailed in Captain\nFranklin's \"Second Journey to the Polar Sea:\"--\n\n\"For a long time Chapawee's descendants were united as one family, but\nat length some young men being accidentally killed in a game, a\nquarrel ensued, and a general dispersion of mankind took place. One\nIndian fixed his residence on the borders of the lake, taking with him\na dog big with young. The pups in due time were littered, and the\nIndian, when he went out to fish, carefully tied them up to prevent\ntheir straying. Several times, as he approached his tent, he heard a\nnoise of children talking and playing; but on entering it, he only\nperceived the pups tied up as usual. His curiosity being excited by\nthe voices he had heard, he determined to watch; and one day\npretending to go out and fish, according to custom, he concealed\nhimself in a convenient place. In a short time he again heard voices,\nand rushing suddenly into the tent, beheld some beautiful children\nsporting and laughing, with the dog-skins lying by their side. He\nthrew the skins into the fire, and the children, retaining their\nproper forms, grew up, and were the ancestors of the Dog-Rib nation.\"\n\nCaptain Lyon, who had so many opportunities of studying the habits of\nthe Esquimaux dog, has given so interesting an account of it that I\ncannot do better than quote his own words:--\n\n\"Having myself possessed, during our hard winter, a team of eleven\nfine dogs, I was enabled to become better acquainted with their good\nqualities than could possibly have been the case by the casual visits\nof the Esquimaux to the ships. The form of the Esquimaux dog is very\nsimilar to that of our shepherds' dog in England, but it is more\nmuscular and broad-chested, owing to the constant and severe work to\nwhich he is brought up. His ears are pointed, and the aspect of the\nhead is somewhat savage. In size a fine dog is about the height of the\nNewfoundland breed, but broad like a mastiff in every part except the\nnose. The hair of the coat is in summer, as well as in winter, very\nlong, but during the cold season a soft, downy under-covering is\nfound, which does not appear in warm weather. Young dogs are put into\nharness as soon as they can walk, and being tied up, soon acquire a\nhabit of pulling, in their attempts to recover their liberty, or to\nroam in quest of their mother. When about two months old, they are put\ninto the sledge with the grown dogs, and sometimes eight or ten little\nones are under the charge of some steady old animal, where, with\nfrequent and sometimes severe beatings, they soon receive a competent\neducation. Every dog is distinguished by a particular name, and the\nangry repetition of it has an effect as instantaneous as an\napplication of the whip, which instrument is of an immense length,\nhaving a lash from eighteen to twenty-four feet, while the handle is\none foot only; with this, by throwing it on one side or the other of\nthe leader, and repeating certain words, the animals are guided or\nstopped. When the sledge is stopped they are all taught to lie down,\nby throwing the whip gently over their backs, and they will remain in\nthis position even for hours, until their master returns to them. A\nwalrus is frequently drawn along by three or four of these dogs, and\nseals are sometimes carried home in the same manner, though I have in\nsome instances seen a dog bring home the greater part of a seal in\npanniers placed across his back. The latter mode of conveyance is\noften used in summer, and the dogs also carry skins or furniture\noverland to the sledges when their masters are going on any\nexpedition. It might be supposed that in so cold a climate these\nanimals had peculiar periods of gestation, like the wild creatures,\nbut, on the contrary, they bear young at every season of the year, and\nseldom exceed five at a litter. Cold has very little effect on them;\nfor although the dogs at the huts slept within the snow passages, mine\nat the ships had no shelter, but lay alongside, with the thermometer\nat 42 deg. and 44 deg., and with as little concern as if the weather had been\nmild. I found, by several experiments, that three of my dogs could\ndraw me on a sledge, weighing one hundred pounds, at the rate of one\nmile in six minutes; and as a proof of the strength of a well-grown\ndog, my leader drew one hundred and ninety-six pounds singly, and to\nthe same distance, in eight minutes. At another time seven of my dogs\nran a mile in four minutes, drawing a heavy sledge full of men.\nAfterwards, in carrying stores to the Fury, one mile distant, nine\ndogs drew one thousand six hundred and eleven pounds in the space of\nnine minutes. My sledge was on runners, neither shod nor iced; but had\nthe runners been iced, at least forty pounds weight would have been\nadded for each dog.\"\n\nCaptain Lyon, in another passage, observes:--\"Our eleven dogs were\nlarge, and even majestic-looking animals; and an old one of peculiar\nsagacity was placed at their head by having a longer trace, so as to\nlead them through the safest and driest places, these animals having\nsuch a dread of water as to receive a severe beating before they would\nswim a foot. The leader was instant in obeying the voice of the\ndriver, who never beat, but repeatedly called to him by name. When the\ndogs slackened their pace, the sight of a seal or bird was sufficient\nto put them instantly to their full speed; and even though none of\nthese might be seen on the ice, the cry of \"a seal!\"--\"a bear!\"--or \"a\nbird!\" &c., was enough to give play to the legs and voices of the\nwhole pack. It was a beautiful sight to observe the two sledges racing\nat full speed to the same object, the dogs and men in full cry, and\nthe vehicles splashing through the holes of water with the velocity\nand spirit of rival stage-coaches. There is something of the spirit of\nprofessed whips in these wild races, for the young men delight in\npassing each other's sledge, and jockeying the hinder one by crossing\nthe path. In passing on different routes the right hand is yielded,\nand should an inexperienced driver endeavour to take the left, he\nwould have some difficulty in persuading his team to do so. The only\nunpleasant circumstance attending these races is, that a poor dog is\nsometimes entangled and thrown down, when the sledge, with perhaps a\nheavy load, is unavoidably drawn over his body. The driver sits on the\nfore part of the vehicle, from whence he jumps when requisite to pull\nit clear of any impediments which may lie in the way, and he also\nguides it by pressing either foot on the ice. The voice and long whip\nanswer all the purposes of reins, and the dogs can be made to turn a\ncorner as dexterously as horses, though not in such an orderly manner,\nsince they are constantly fighting; and I do not recollect to have\nseen one receive a flogging without instantly wreaking his passion on\nthe ears of his neighbours. The cries of the men are not more\nmelodious than those of the animals; and their wild looks and gestures\nwhen animated, give them an appearance of devils driving wolves before\nthem. Our dogs had eaten nothing for forty-eight hours, and could not\nhave gone over less than seventy miles of ground; yet they returned,\nto all appearance, as fresh and active as when they first set out.\"\n\nSuch is the Esquimaux dog, an animal of the greatest value in the cold\nregions of the Arctic circle. In addition to Captain Lyon's very\ninteresting account of them, it may be mentioned that they are of\ngreat use to their masters in discovering by the scent the winter\nretreats which the bears make under the snow. Their endurance, too,\nnever tires, and their fidelity is never shaken by blows and starving:\nthey are obstinate in their nature, but the women, who treat them with\nmore kindness than the men, and who nurse them in their helpless\nstate, or when they are sick, have an unbounded command over their\naffections.\n\nI am indebted to Colonel Hamilton Smith for the following account of\nan Esquimaux dog brought to this country, and which he received from\nMr. Cleghorn, the owner of the animal:--\n\n\"The Esquimaux dog is possessed of very great sagacity--in some\nrespects, more than any dog I have ever seen. I may mention an\ninstance. In coming along a country road a hare started, and in place\nof running after the hare in the usual way, the dog pushed himself\nthrough the hedge, crossed the field, and, when past the hare, through\nthe hedge again, as if to meet her direct. It is needless to remark,\nthat the hare doubled through the hedge; but had it been in an open\ncountry, there would have been a fine chase. One particular\ncharacteristic of the dog is, that he forms a strong attachment to his\nmaster, and however kind others may be, they never can gain his\naffection, even from coaxing with food or otherwise; and, whenever set\nat liberty, he rushes to the spot where the individual of his\nattachment is. I may give one or two instances among many. One morning\nhe was let loose by some of the men on the ground, when he instantly\nbounded from them to my house, and the kitchen-door being open, found\nhis way through it; when, to the great amazement of all, he leaped\ninto the bed where I was sleeping, and fawned in the most affectionate\nmanner upon me. Another instance was, when the dog was with me going\nup the steep bank of the Prince's Street garden, I slipped my foot and\ncame down, when he immediately seized me by the coat, as if to render\nassistance in raising me. Notwithstanding this particular affection to\nsome, he was in the habit of biting others, without giving the least\nwarning or indication of anger. He was remarkably cunning, for he was\nin the practice of strewing his meat around him, to induce fowls or\nrats to come within his reach while he lay watching, as if asleep,\nwhen he instantly pounced upon them, and always with success. He was\nswift, and had a noble appearance when running.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: OTTER HUNTING.]\n\nTHE OTTER TERRIER.\n\n                                  \"How greedily\n    They snuff the fishy steam, that to each blade\n    Rank scenting clings! See! how the morning dews\n    They sweep, that from their feet besprinkling drop\n    Dispersed, and leave a track oblique behind.\n    Now on firm land they range, then in the flood\n    They plunge tumultuous; or through reedy pools\n    Rustling they work their way; no holt escapes\n    Their curious search. With quick sensation now\n    The fuming vapour stings; flutter their hearts,\n    And joy redoubled bursts from every mouth\n    In louder symphonies. Yon hollow trunk,\n    That with its hoary head incurv'd salutes\n    The passing wave, must be the tyrant's fort\n    And dread abode. How these impatient climb,\n    While others at the root incessant bay!--\n    They put him down.\"--SOMERVILLE.\n\n\nThe above is an animated and beautiful description of an otter hunt,\nan old English sport fast falling into disuse, and the breed of the\nreal otter-hound is either extinct or very nearly so. In stating this,\nI am aware that there are still many dogs which are called\notter-hounds; but it may be doubted whether they possess that peculiar\nformation which belongs exclusively to the true breed. Few things in\nnature are more curious and interesting than this formation, and it\nshows forcibly how beautifully everything has been arranged for the\ninstincts and several habits of animals. The true otter-hound is\ncompletely web-footed, even to the roots of its claws; thus enabling\nit to swim with much greater facility and swiftness than other dogs.\nBut it has another extraordinary formation; the ear possesses a sort\nof flap, which covering the aperture excludes the entrance of the\nwater, and thus the dog is enabled to dive after the otter without\nthat inconvenience which it would otherwise experience. The Earl of\nCadogan has, what his Lordship considers, the last of the breed of the\ntrue otter-hound. It was a present from Sir Walter Scott. Lord Cadogan\noffered one hundred pounds for another dog of the same breed, but of a\ndifferent sex; but I believe without being able to procure one with\nthose true marks which are confined to the authentic breed. A gipsy\nwas, indeed, said to have possessed one, but he refused to part with\nit.\n\nThose who saw the exhibition of pictures in the Royal Academy in 1844\nwill recollect a large, interesting, and beautiful picture by Sir\nEdwin Landseer of a pack of otter-hounds. The picture describes the\nhunt at the time of the termination of the chase and the capture of\nthe otter. The animal is impaled on the huntsman's spear, while the\nrough, shaggy, and picturesque-looking pack are represented with eyes\nintently fixed on the amphibious beast, and howling in uncouth chorus\nround their agonized and dying prey.\n\nAn otter-hunt is a cheerful and inspiriting sport, and it is still\ncarried on in some of the lakes of Cumberland. Indeed, as lately as\nthe year 1844, a pack of otter-hounds was advertised in the newspapers\nto be sold by private contract. The alleged cause of the owner's\nparting with them was in consequence of their having cleared the\nrivers of three counties (Staffordshire being one) of all the otters,\nand the number captured and killed in the last few years was\nmentioned. \"Good otter-hounds,\" as an old writer observes, \"will come\nchanting, and trail along by the river-side, and will beat every\ntree-root, every osier-bed, and tuft of bulrushes; nay, sometimes they\nwill take the water and beat it like a spaniel, and by these means the\notter can hardly escape you.\" The otter swims and dives with great\ncelerity, and in doing the latter it throws up _sprots_, or\nair-bubbles, which enable the hunters to ascertain where it is, and to\nspear it. The best time to find it is early in the morning. It may\nfrequently be traced by the dead fish and fish-bones strewed along the\nbanks of the river. The prints, also, of the animal's feet, called\nhis _seal_, are of a peculiar formation, and thus it is readily\ntraced. The otter preys during the night, and conceals himself in the\ndaytime under the banks of lakes and rivers, where he generally forms\na kind of subterraneous gallery, running for several yards parallel to\nthe water's edge, so that if he should be assailed from one end, he\nflies to the other. When he takes to the water, it is necessary that\nthose who have otter-spears should watch the bubbles, for he generally\nvents near them. When the otter is seized, or upon the point of being\ncaught by the hounds, he turns upon his pursuers with the utmost\nferocity. Instances are recorded of dogs having been drowned by\notters, which they had seized under water, for they can sustain the\nwant of respiration for a much longer time than the dog.\n\nMr. Daniell, in his \"Rural Sports,\" remarks that hunting the otter was\nformerly considered as excellent sport, and that hounds were kept\nsolely for that purpose. The sportsmen went on each side of the river,\nbeating the banks and sedges with the dogs. If an otter was not soon\nfound, it was supposed that he had gone to _couch_ more inland, and\nwas sought for accordingly. If one was found, the sportsmen viewed his\ntrack in the mud, to find which way he had taken.\n\n                              \"On the soft sand,\n    See there his seal impress'd! And on that bank\n    Behold the glitt'ring spoils, half-eaten fish,\n    Scales, fins, and bones, the leavings of his feast.\"\n\nThe spears were used in aid of the dogs. When an otter is wounded, he\nmakes directly to land, where he maintains an obstinate defence:--\n\n                              \"Lo! to yon sedgy bank\n    He creeps disconsolate; his numerous foes\n    Surround him, hounds and men. Pierc'd through and through,\n    On pointed spears they lift him high in air;\n    Bid the loud horns, in gaily warbling strains,\n    Proclaim the spoiler's fate: he dies, he dies.\"\n\nThe male otter never makes any complaint when seized by the dogs, or\neven when transfixed with a spear, but the females emit a very shrill\nsqueal. In the year 1796, near Bridgenorth, on the river Wherfe, four\notters were killed. One stood three, another four hours before the\ndogs, and was scarcely a minute out of sight. In April 1804, the\notter-hounds of Mr. Coleman, of Leominster, killed an otter of\nextraordinary size. It measured from the nose to the end of the tail,\nfour feet ten inches, and weighed thirty-four and a half pounds. This\nanimal was supposed to be eight years old, and to have destroyed for\nthe last five years a ton of fish annually. The destruction of fish by\nthis animal is, indeed, very great, for he will eat none unless it be\nperfectly fresh, and what he takes himself. By his mode of eating them\nhe causes a still greater consumption, for so soon as an otter catches\na fish he drags it on shore, devours it to the vent, and, unless\npressed by extreme hunger, always leaves the remainder, and takes to\nthe water in search of more. In rivers it is always observed to swim\nagainst the stream, in order to meet its prey.\n\nOtters bite very severely, and they will seize upon a dog with the\nutmost ferocity, and will shake it as a terrier does a rat. The jaws\nof the otter are so constructed, that even when dead it is difficult\nto separate them, as they adhere with the utmost tenacity. Otters are\nfrequently found on the banks of the Thames, and a large one was\ncaught in an eel-basket, near Windsor, but the hunting of them is\ndiscontinued.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: GREYHOUNDS.]\n\nTHE GREYHOUND.\n\n   \"Ah! gallant Snowball! what remains,\n    Up Fordon's banks, o'er Flixton's plains,\n    Of all thy strength--thy sinewy force,\n    Which rather flew than ran the course?\n    Ah! what remains? Save that thy breed\n    May to their father's fame succeed;\n    And when the prize appears in view,\n    May prove that they are Snowballs too.\"\n\n\nThe perfection to which the greyhound has been brought by persevering\ncare and attention to its breed, distinguishes it alike for beauty,\nshape, and high spirit, while its habits are mild and gentle in the\nextreme. These dogs were brought to this great perfection by the late\nLord Orford, Major Topham, and others. Snowball,--perhaps one of the\nbest greyhounds that ever ran,--won four cups, couples, and upwards\nof thirty matches, at Malton, and upon the wolds of Yorkshire. In\nfact, no dog had any chance with him except his own blood. In the\nNovember Malton coursing-meeting in 1799, a Scotch greyhound was\nproduced, which had beat every opponent in Scotland. It was then\nbrought to England, and challenged any dog in the kingdom. The\nchallenge was accepted, and Snowball selected for the trial of speed;\nafter a course of two miles, the match (upon which considerable sums\nwere depending) was decided in his favour.\n\nAnother dog, which belonged to Sir Henry Bate Dudley, won seventy-four\nsuccessive matches, without having been once beaten.\n\nVarious have been the opinions upon the difference of speed between a\nwell-bred greyhound and a racehorse, if opposed to each other. Wishes\nhad been frequently indulged by the sporting world, that some\ncriterion could be adopted by which the superiority of speed could be\nfairly ascertained, when the following circumstance accidentally took\nplace, and afforded some information upon what had been previously\nconsidered a matter of great uncertainty. In the month of December,\nsome years ago, a match was to have been run over Doncaster\nrace-course for one hundred guineas; but one of the horses having been\ndrawn, a mare started alone, that by running the ground she might\nensure the wager, when having run about one mile in the four, she was\naccompanied by a greyhound bitch, which joined her from the side of\nthe course, and emulatively entering into the competition, continued\nto race with the mare for the other three miles, keeping nearly head\nand head, and affording an excellent treat to the field by the\nenergetic exertions of each. At passing the distance-post, five to\nfour was betted in favour of the greyhound; when parallel with the\nstand, it was even betting, and any person might have taken his choice\nfrom five to ten: the mare, however, had the advantage by a head at\nthe termination of the course.\n\nThe courage and spirit of these dogs is very great. A greyhound ran a\nhare single-handed and raced her so hard, that, not having time to run\nthrough an opening at the bottom of some paling, she and the greyhound\nmade a spring at the same moment at the top of the pales. The dog\nseized her at the instant she reached it, and in the momentary\nstruggle he slipt between two broken pales, each of which ran into the\ntop of his thighs. In this situation he hung till the horsemen came\nup, when, to their great surprise, he had the hare fast in his mouth,\nwhich was taken from him before he could be released.\n\nI saw a hare coursed on the Brighton Downs some years ago by two\ncelebrated greyhounds. Such was the length of the course, some of it\nup very steep hills, that the hare fell dead before the dogs, who were\nso exhausted that they only reached to within six feet of her. This\nwas one of the severest courses ever witnessed.\n\nOn another occasion, two dogs ran a hare for several miles, and with\nsuch speed as to be very soon out of sight of the coursing party.\nAfter a considerable search, both the dogs and the hare were found\ndead within a few yards of each other; nor did it appear that the\nformer had touched the hare. Mr. Daniel, in his \"Rural Sports,\" states\nthat a brace of greyhounds, in Lincolnshire, ran a hare from her seat\nto where she was killed, a distance, measuring straight, of upwards of\nfour miles, in twelve minutes. During the course there was a good\nnumber of turns, which must have very considerably increased the space\ngone over. The hare ran till she died before the greyhounds touched\nher.\n\nIn the year 1798, a brace of greyhounds, the property of Mr. Courtall\nof Carlisle, coursed a hare from the Swift, near that city, and killed\nher at Clemmell, seven miles distant. Both greyhounds were so\nexhausted, that unless the aid of medical men, who happened to be on\nthe spot, had been immediately given, they would have died, and it was\nwith difficulty they were recovered.\n\nIn the year 1818, a black greyhound bitch, the property of Mr. John\nHeaton, of Scarisbrick, in Lancashire, left her master, forsook the\nhabitation where she had been reared, betook herself to the fields and\nthickets, and adopted a life of unlimited freedom, defying all the\nrestraints of man. In this state she killed a great number of hares\nfor food, and occasionally made free with the sheep; she, therefore,\nvery soon became a nuisance in the neighbourhood. She had taken her\nstation at the distance of two miles from her master's house, and was\ngenerally found near this spot. In consequence of her depredations,\nmany attempts were made to shoot her, but in vain. She eluded, for\nmore than six months, the vigilance of her pursuers. At length she was\nobserved to go into a barn that stood in a field which she frequented.\nShe entered the building through a hole in the wall, and, by means of\na rope-snare, was caught as she came out. On entering the barn, three\nwhelps were found about a week old; so that in her savage state she\nhad evidently been visited by a male of her own species. The whelps\nwere (foolishly enough) immediately destroyed. As the bitch herself\nevinced the utmost ferocity, and, though well secured, vainly\nattempted to seize every person that approached, she was taken home,\nand treated with the greatest kindness. By degrees her ferocity\nabated, and in the course of two months she became perfectly\nreconciled to her original abode. The following season she ran several\ncourses. There continued a wildness in her look; yet, although at\nperfect liberty, she did not attempt again to stray away, but seemed\nquite reconciled to her domestic life.\n\nFew facts can show the high courage of the greyhound more than the\nfollowing:--\n\nAs a gamekeeper of Lord Egremont's was leading a brace of greyhounds\nin couples, a hare accidentally crossed the road in view. This\ntemptation proved so irresistible, that the dogs, by a joint effort,\nbroke suddenly from their conductor, and gave chase, shackled as they\nwere together. When they got up and gave the hare the first turn, it\nwas evidently much to her advantage, as the greyhounds were so\nembarrassed that it was with great difficulty they could change the\ndirection. Notwithstanding this temporary delay, they sustained no\ndiminution of natural energy, but continued the course through and\nover various obstructions, till the object of their pursuit fell a\nvictim to their invincible perseverance, after a run of between three\nand four miles.\n\nIn addition to the beauty, elegance, high spirit, and speed of the\ngreyhound, may be mentioned his mild and affectionate disposition, as\nwell as his fidelity and attachment to those who treat him with\nkindness. They will also show sometimes considerable sagacity, of\nwhich the following is an instance:--\n\nTwo young gentlemen went to skate, attended only by a greyhound. About\nthe time they were expected home, the dog arrived at the house full\nspeed, and by his great anxiety, by laying hold of the clothes of some\nof the inmates, and by his significant gestures, he convinced them\nthat something was wrong. They followed the greyhound, and came to the\npond. A hat was seen on the ice, near which was a fresh aperture. The\nbodies of the young gentlemen were soon found, but life was extinct.\nIn this instance the sagacity of the dog was extraordinary. Had he\npossessed the power of speech, he could scarcely have communicated\nwhat had taken place more significantly than he did.\n\nI have received the following anecdote from a friend, on whose\nveracity I can depend:--In the year 1816, a greyhound bitch in pup was\nsent from the neighbourhood of Edinburgh by a carrier, _via_ Dumfries,\nto the neighbourhood of Castle Douglas, in the stewartry of\nKirkeudbright. She brought up her litter of pups there, and in the\nfollowing year was returned by the same route to Edinburgh, from\nwhence she was sent by way of Douglas and Muirkirk to the\nneighbourhood of Cumnock, in Ayrshire. After remaining there five or\nsix months, she found her way across the country to the house near\nCastle Douglas where she had brought up her pups. The fact of her\ncrossing the country was ascertained by shepherds, who saw her,\naccompanied by a pointer-dog. She arrived, accompanied by this dog,\nwho left her almost immediately, and found his way home again. The\nbitch was bred in East Lothian, and had never been previously either\nin Ayrshire or Dumfriesshire.\n\nA small Italian greyhound in Bologna, which used at nights to have a\nkind of jacket put on, to guard him from the cold, went out generally\nvery early in the morning to a neighbouring house, to visit another\ndog of the same breed which lived there. He always endeavoured, by\nvarious coaxing gestures, to prevail upon the people of the house to\ntake off his night-jacket, in order that he might play more at ease\nwith his companion. It once happened, when he could not get any one to\ndo him this service, that he found means, by various contortions of\nhis body, rubbing himself against tables and chairs, and working with\nhis limbs, to undress himself without any other assistance. After this\ntrial had succeeded, he continued to practise it for some time, until\nhis master discovered it, who after that undressed him every morning,\nand let him out of the house. At noon, and in the evening, he always\nreturned home. Sometimes, when he made his morning call, he found the\ndoor of the house in which his friend dwelt not yet open. In these\ncases he placed himself opposite to the house, and by loud barking\nsolicited admittance. But as the noise which he made became\ntroublesome both to the inhabitants of the house and to the\nneighbours, they not only kept the door shut against him, but\nendeavoured also to drive him away from the house by throwing stones\nat him from the windows. He crept, however, so close to the door, that\nhe was perfectly secure against the stones, and now they had to drive\nhim away with a whip. After some time the dog went again to the house,\nand waited without barking till the door was opened. He was again\ndriven away, upon which he discontinued his visits for a long time. At\nlength, however, he ventured to go once more to the house, and set up\na loud barking; placing himself in a situation where he was both\nsecure against the stones, and could not be seized by the people of\nthe house when they opened the door.\n\nAfter a considerable time, he one morning saw a boy come to the house,\nlay hold of the knocker, and strike it against the door, and he\nobserved that upon this process the door was opened. After the boy had\nbeen let in, the dog crept along the side of the house to the door,\nand took his station upon the spot where the boy had stood when he\nknocked, and where no one who stood close to the door could be seen\nfrom within. Here he leaped several times at the knocker, till he\nraised it and made it strike the door. A person from within\nimmediately called, \"Who is there?\" but receiving no answer, opened\nthe door, upon which the dog ran in with tokens of great delight, and\nsoon found his way to his friend. Often after this he availed himself\nof the fortunate discovery which he had made, and his ingenuity was so\nmuch admired that it procured him thenceforward free access to his\ncompanion's habitation.\n\nWhile on the subject of greyhounds, I cannot resist the insertion of\nthe following account of one extracted from Froissart:--\n\nWhen Richard II. was confined in the Castle of Flint, he possessed a\ngreyhound, which was so remarkably attached to him, as not to notice\nor fawn upon any one else. Froissart says,--\"It was informed me Kynge\nRichard had a grayhounde, called Mathe, who always waited upon the\nkynge, and would know no one else. For whenever the kynge did ryde, he\nthat kept the grayhounde did let him lose, and he wolde streyght runne\nto the kynge and fawne upon him, and leape with his fore-fete upon the\nkynge's shoulders. And as the kynge and the Erle of Derby talked\ntogyder in the courte, the grayhounde, who was wont to leape upon the\nkynge, left the kynge and came to the Erle of Derby, duke of\nLancaster, and made to hym the same friendly countenance and chere he\nwas wont to do the kynge. The Duke, who knew not the grayhounde,\ndemanded of the kynge what the grayhounde would do. 'Cosin,' quod the\nkynge, 'it is a great good token to you, and an evil sygne to me.'\n'Sir, how know ye that?' quod the duke. 'I know it well,' quod the\nkynge: 'the grayhounde maketh you chere this daye as kynge of\nEnglande, as ye shall be, and I shall be deposed; the grayhounde hath\nthis knowledge naturally, therefore take hym to you: he will follow\nyou and forsake me.' The duke understoode well those words, and\ncheryshed the grayhounde, who would never after followe Kynge\nRicharde, but followed the Duke of Lancaster.\" It is not, however,\nimprobable, that the dog thus mentioned was the Irish wolf-dog, as the\nfact related is more characteristic of that noble animal.\n\nThe mild, affable, and serene aspect of the greyhound, constitutes no\ndrawback to its innate sagacity, or grateful attention to its\nprotector, of which the unfortunate king Charles I. was so observant,\nthat the remark he made during his troubles is on record, and strictly\njust as applicable to the instinctive fidelity of the animal. He said\nthe greyhound possessed all the good nature of the spaniel without the\nfawning.\n\nWashington Irving mentions, that in the course of his reading he had\nfallen in with the following anecdote, which illustrates in a\nremarkable manner the devoted attachment of these dogs to their\nmasters:--\n\n\"An officer named St. Leger, who was imprisoned in Vincennes (near\nParis) during the wars of St. Bartholomew, wished to keep with him a\ngreyhound that he had brought up, and which was much attached to him;\nbut they harshly refused him this innocent pleasure, and sent away the\ngreyhound to his house in the Rue des Lions Saint Paul. The next day\nthe greyhound returned alone to Vincennes, and began to bark under the\nwindows of the tower, where the officer was confined. St. Leger\napproached, looked through the bars, and was delighted again to see\nhis faithful hound, who began to jump and play a thousand gambols to\nshow her joy. He threw a piece of bread to the animal, who ate it with\ngreat good will; and, in spite of the immense wall which separated\nthem, they breakfasted together like two friends. This friendly visit\nwas not the last. Abandoned by his relations, who believed him dead,\nthe unfortunate prisoner received the visits of his greyhound only,\nduring four years' confinement. Whatever weather it might be, in\nspite of rain or snow, the faithful animal did not fail a single day\nto pay her accustomed visit. Six months after his release from prison\nSt. Leger died. The faithful greyhound would no longer remain in the\nhouse; but on the day after the funeral returned to the castle of\nVincennes, and it is supposed she was actuated by a motive of\ngratitude. A jailor of the outer court had always shown great kindness\nto this dog, which was as handsome as affectionate. Contrary to the\ncustom of people of that class, this man had been touched by her\nattachment and beauty, so that he facilitated her approach to see her\nmaster, and also insured her a safe retreat. Penetrated with gratitude\nfor this service, the greyhound remained the rest of her life near the\nbenevolent jailor. It was remarked, that even while testifying her\nzeal and gratitude for her second master, one could easily see that\nher heart was with the first. Like those who, having lost a parent, a\nbrother, or a friend, come from afar to seek consolation by viewing\nthe place which they inhabited, this affectionate animal repaired\nfrequently to the tower where St. Leger had been imprisoned, and would\ncontemplate for hours together the gloomy window from which her dear\nmaster had so often smiled to her, and where they had so frequently\nbreakfasted together.\"\n\nThe natural simplicity and peaceable demeanour of the greyhound may\nhave sometimes induced a doubt of its possessing the sagacity,\nfidelity, and attachment of other dogs; but when he is kindly treated\nand domesticated, he is capable of showing them to an equal degree\nwith any of the canine race.\n\nSome of the best coursing in England takes place on the Wiltshire\nDowns, where it is no uncommon sight to see a hare run away from two\ngood dogs without a single turn. Nearly three hundred years ago, Sir\nPhilip Sidney referred to this sport on the Wiltshire Downs in one of\nhis poems, in which he remarks:--\n\n   \"So, on the downs we see, near Wilton fair,\n    A hasten'd hare from greedy greyhounds go.\"\n\nThe following account of the Persian greyhound appeared in the \"Book\nof Sports:\"--\n\n\"The Persian greyhound is much esteemed in its native country, where\nthe nobles, who are excessively fond of the chase, keep a great number\nof them at a considerable expense, the best and most favoured dogs\nfrequently having their collars and housings covered with precious\nstones and embroidery.\n\n\"These greyhounds are employed in coursing hares in the plains, and in\nchasing the antelope. As the speed of the antelope is greater than\nthat of the greyhound, the Persians train hawks for the purpose of\nassisting the dog in this kind of chase. The hawks when young are fed\nupon the head of a stuffed antelope, and thus taught to fly at that\npart of the animal. When the antelope is discovered, the hawk is cast\noff, which, fastening its talons in the animal's head, impedes its\nprogress, and thus enables the greyhounds to overtake it. The chase,\nhowever, in which the Persians chiefly delight, and for which those\ngreyhounds are most highly valued, is that of the ghoo-khur, or wild\nass. This animal, which generally inhabits the mountainous districts,\nis extremely shy, and of great endurance, and is considered by the\nPersians as one of the swiftest of all quadrupeds. These qualities,\nand the nature of the ground over which it is usually chased, render\nthe capture of the wild ass very uncertain, and its pursuit extremely\nhazardous to the sportsman.\n\n\"When the Persians go out to hunt the wild ass, relays of greyhounds\nare placed at various distances in the surrounding country, in such\ndirections as are most likely to be traversed by the object of\npursuit; so that when one relay is tired, there is another fresh to\ncontinue the chase. Such, however, is the speed and endurance of the\nghoo-khur, that it is seldom fairly run down by the greyhounds; its\ndeath generally being achieved by the rifle of some lucky horseman.\nThe Persians evince great skill and courage in this arduous sport;\nriding, rifle in hand, up and down precipitous hills, over stony\npaths, and across ravines and mountain streams, which might well daunt\nour boldest turf-skimming Meltonians.\n\n\"Though several Persian greyhounds have at different times been\nbrought to this country, the breed can scarcely be considered as\nestablished here. The specimen, however, (a female), from which Mr.\nHamilton painted the picture from which our engraving is taken, was\nbred in this country. She was then supposed to be the only Persian\ngreyhound bitch in England.\"\n\nThe Persian greyhound is very handsome. \"One of the finest species of\ndog I have ever seen,\" says an interesting writer, \"is a sort of\ngreyhound which the Persians rear to assist them in the chase. They\nhave generally long silken hair upon their quarters, shoulders, ears,\nand tail; and I think them as handsome, and considerably more powerful\nand sagacious, than our own greyhounds. I have sometimes seen a\nspirited horse break loose, and run away at full speed, when one of\nthese dogs has set after him like an arrow, and soon getting ahead of\nhim, taken an opportunity of seizing the bridle in his teeth, which he\nheld so firmly, that though he was not strong enough to stop the\nhorse, yet, as he was dragged along, he continued to pull and confine\nthe horse, so as to impede him very much, till some person was able to\novertake and secure him.\"\n\nCol. Hutchinson says, that \"In Persia and many parts of the East\ngreyhounds are taught to assist the falcon in the capture of deer.\nWhen brought within good view of a herd the bird is flown, and at the\nsame moment the dog is slipped. The rapid sweep of the falcon soon\ncarries him far in advance. It is the falcon who makes the selection\nof the intended victim--which appears to be a matter of chance--and a\nproperly-trained greyhound will give chase to none other, however\ntemptingly close the alarmed animals may pass him. The falcon is\ninstructed to aim at the head only of the gazelle, who soon becomes\nbewildered; sometimes receiving considerable injury from the quick\nstroke of its daring adversary. Before long the gazelle is overtaken\nby the greyhound. It is not always easy to teach a dog to avoid\ninjuring the bird, which is so intent upon its prey as utterly to\ndisregard the approach of the hound. Death would probably be the\npenalty adjudged to him for so heinous an offence; for a well-trained\nfalcon is of great value. You can readily imagine that neither it nor\nthe greyhound could be properly broken unless the instructor possessed\nmuch judgment and perseverance. The sport is very exciting; but the\nspectator must be well-mounted, and ride boldly, who would closely\nwatch the swift, varying evolutions of the assailing party, and the\nsudden evasions of the helpless defendant.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE POINTER.]\n\nTHE POINTER.\n\n   \"The subtle dog scours with sagacious nose\n    Along the field, and snuffs each breeze that blows;\n    Against the wind he takes his prudent way,\n    While the strong gale directs him to the prey.\n    Now the warm scent assures the covey near;\n    He treads with caution, and he points with fear.\n    The fluttering coveys from the stubble rise,\n    And on swift wing divide the sounding skies;\n    The scatt'ring lead pursues the certain sight,\n    And death in thunder overtakes their flight.\"--GAY.\n\n\nThis dog has been crossed and re-crossed so often with the fox-hound,\nthe setter, and the old Spanish pointer, that the originality of the\npresent breed may be questioned, especially as the pointer has been\nless noticed by writers on dogs than any other of the species. How\nwell do I recollect in my early youth seeing the slow, heavy,\nsolemn-looking, and thick-shouldered Spanish pointer, tired with two\nor three hours' work in turnips, and so stiff after it the next day,\nas to be little capable of resuming his labours. And yet this dog,\nfifty years ago, was to be met with all through England. How different\nis the breed at the present time! By crossing with the fox-hound, they\nhave acquired wonderful speed, and a power of endurance equally\nsurprising, while their shape is beautiful and their sense and\nanimation strongly marked in their intelligent countenances.\n\nThe old pointers were either nearly white or variegated with large\nliver-coloured patches. We now see them either completely\nliver-coloured, or of a flea-bitten blue or grey, or else black, with\nfine sterns showing much blood, and extremely thin ears. There can be\nno doubt but that the crosses by which they have obtained the\nqualities and appearance I have mentioned, render the task of breaking\nthem in to point, back, and drop to charge, one of no small\ndifficulty. These habits, having been acquired in the original breed,\nhad probably become hereditary; but the mixture with dogs which had\nnot these inherent qualities, has introduced volatility and impatience\nnot easily to be overcome. It is also a fact, that if a pointer,\nnotwithstanding this disposition, should at last become perfectly well\nbroke in, or, as it is called, highly broke, he loses much of his\nnatural sagacity. His powers of endurance are, however, very great. A\nfriend of mine, an ardent sportsman, had a pointer crossed with a\nfoxhound, and it was the only one he had. Day after day he took this\ndog out with him, from day-break till late in the evening, and he\nnever flagged or showed fatigue. It was calculated that he could not\ntraverse less than one hundred and twenty miles each day. This dog\nshowed extraordinary sagacity. While hunting in a large fallow field\nhe made a point, and then slowly and cautiously proceeded, closely\nfollowed by his master. In this way he led him over a good part of the\nfield, till it was supposed the dog was drawing on the scent of a\nhare, which had stolen away. At last he set off running as hard as he\ncould, made a large circuit to the left, and then came to a point\nimmediately opposite to his master, who then advanced and put up a\ncovey of birds between him and the dog.\n\nThe following is a proof of the perfection to which pointers may be\nbrought. The friend above referred to went out shooting with a\ngentleman celebrated for the goodness of his breed. They took the\nfield with eight of these dogs. If one pointed, all the rest\nimmediately backed steadily. If a partridge was shot, they all dropped\nto charge, and whichsoever dog was called to bring the bird, the rest\nnever stirred till they were told to do so. Dogs thus broke in are of\ngreat value, and bring large prices; from fifty to a hundred guineas\nhave been given for a good dog.\n\nPointers frequently show extraordinary sense, especially in their own\npeculiar vocation. Thus a pointer has been known to refuse to hunt for\na person who had previously missed every bird the dog had found. He\nleft him with every mark of disgust, nor could any coaxing induce him\nto continue with his unsportsman-like companion.\n\nThree pointers were taken out grouse-shooting in Ireland. They were\nall of the same breed, or rather nearly related to each other, one\nbeing the grandmother, the other her daughter, and the third her\ngranddaughter. The latter, who could get over the ground quicker than\nthe others, put up first one pack of grouse, and then another, for\nwhich faults she was flogged again and again. Having done the same\nthing the third time, the steady old grandmother was so provoked, that\nshe ran at the culprit, knocked her over and over, and did not cease\nto attack her till she had driven her home. The authenticity of this\nanecdote need not be doubted. It is a proof of the extraordinary sense\nof a dog, and is corroborated by a fact already mentioned in the\nintroductory remarks (p. 33), of one dog attacking another for having\nmisconducted himself.\n\nSome very bad shots went out partridge-shooting, attended by a very\ngood, old, steady pointer. After shooting for some hours with very\nlittle success, they began to amuse themselves by firing at a piece of\npaper stuck on a post. The disgust of the old dog at this proceeding\nmay be imagined--he ran home.\n\nIn further proof of the dislike a pointer will show to a bad shot, I\nwill adduce the following anecdote mentioned by Captain Brown. A\ngentleman, on his requesting the loan of a pointer-dog from a friend,\nwas informed by him that the dog would behave very well so long as he\ncould kill his birds; but if he frequently missed them, it would run\nhome and leave him. The dog was sent, and the following day was fixed\nfor trial; but, unfortunately, his new master was a remarkably bad\nshot. Bird after bird rose and was fired at, but still pursued its\nflight untouched, till, at last, the pointer became careless, and\noften missed his game. As if seemingly willing, however, to give one\nchance more, he made a dead stop at a fern-bush, with his nose pointed\ndownward, the fore-foot bent, and his tail straight and steady. In\nthis position he remained firm till the sportsman was close to him,\nwith both barrels cocked, then moving steadily forward for a few\npaces, he at last stood still near a bunch of heather, the tail\nexpressing the anxiety of the mind by moving regularly backwards and\nforwards. At last out sprung a fine old blackcock. Bang, bang, went\nboth barrels, but the bird escaped unhurt. The patience of the dog was\nnow quite exhausted; and, instead of dropping to charge, he turned\nboldly round, placed his tail between his legs, gave one howl, long\nand loud, and set off as fast as he could to his own home.\n\nI have seen a pointer leap on the top of a high gate, in going from\none field to another, and remain steadily there till I came up to him.\nHe had suddenly come on the scent of birds, and made his point from\nhis uncomfortable situation on the gate. Captain Brown also relates a\nnearly similar instance of the stanchness of a pointer, which he\nreceived from a friend of his. This gentleman was shooting in\nScotland, when one of his dogs, in going over a stone wall, about four\nfeet high, got the scent of some birds on the other side of the wall,\njust as she made the leap. She hung by her fore-legs, appearing at a\ndistance as if they had got fastened among the stones, and that she\ncould not extricate herself. In this position she remained until her\nmaster came up. It was then evident that it was her caution for fear\nof flushing some birds on the other side of the wall, which prevented\nher from taking the leap, or rather, which was the cause of her making\nthis extraordinary point.\n\nMr. Daniel, in his \"Rural Sports,\" mentions the circumstance of two\npointers having stood at one point an hour and a quarter, while an\nartist took a sketch of them.\n\nA dog of the pointer kind, brought from South Carolina in an English\nmerchant vessel, was a remarkable prognosticator of bad weather.\nWhenever he was observed to prick up his ears, scratch the deck, and\nrear himself to look to the windward, whence he would eagerly snuff up\nthe wind, if it was then the finest weather imaginable, the crew were\nsure of a tempest succeeding; and the dog became so useful, that\nwhenever they perceived the fit upon him, they immediately reefed the\nsails, and took in their spare canvas, to prepare for the worst. Other\nanimals are prognosticators of weather also; and there is seldom a\nstorm at sea, but it is foretold by some of the natural marine\nbarometers on board, many hours before the gale.\n\nThe following circumstance serves also to prove the extreme stanchness\nof a pointer. It is related by Captain Brown:--\n\n\"A servant who used to shoot for Mr. Clutterbuck of Bradford, had, on\none occasion, a pointer of this gentleman's, which afforded him an\nexcellent day's sport. On returning, the night being dark, he dropped,\nby some chance, two or three birds out of his bag, and on coming home\nhe missed them. Having informed a fellow-servant of his loss, he\nrequested him to get up early the next morning, and seek for them near\nthe turnpike, being certain that he had brought them as far as that\nplace. The man accordingly went there, and not a hundred yards from\nthe spot mentioned by his companion, he, to his surprise, found the\npointer lying near the birds, and where he probably had remained all\nnight, although the poor animal had been severely hunted the day\nbefore.\"\n\nFor the following instance of the sagacity of a pointer, I am indebted\nto Lord Stowell. Mr. Edward Cook, after having lived some time with\nhis brother at Tugsten, in Northumberland, went to America, and took\nwith him a pointer-dog, which he lost soon afterwards, while shooting\nin the woods near Baltimore. Some time after, Mr. and Mrs. Cook, who\ncontinued to reside at Tugsten, were alarmed at hearing a dog in the\nnight. They admitted it into the house, and found that it was the same\ntheir brother had taken with him to America. The dog lived with them\nuntil his master returned home, when they mutually recognised each\nother. Mr. Cook was never able to trace by what vessel the dog had\nleft America, or in what part of England it had been landed. This\nanecdote confirms others which I have already mentioned relative to\ndogs finding their way back to this country from considerable\ndistances.\n\nLieutenant Shipp, in his Memoirs, mentions the case of a soldier in\nIndia, who, having presented his dog to an acquaintance, by whom he\nwas taken a distance of four hundred miles, was surprised to see him\nback in a few days afterwards. When the faithful animal returned, he\nsearched through the whole barracks for his master, and at length\nfinding him asleep, he awoke him by licking his face.\n\nPointers have been known to go out by themselves for the purpose of\nfinding game, and when they have succeeded, have returned to their\nmaster, and by significant signs and gestures have led them directly\nto the spot.\n\nThe mental faculties of pointers are extremely acute. When once they\nbecome conscious of their own powers, and of what is required of them,\nthey seldom commit a fault, and do their duty with alacrity and\ndevotion. Old pointers are apt to hunt the hedgerows of a field before\nthey begin to quarter the ground. I have seen dogs severely rated and\npunished for doing this, but the cause is obvious. They are aware that\ngame is more frequently to be found in hedgerows than in the open\nground, and therefore very naturally take the readiest way of finding\nit.\n\nAn interesting exhibition of clever dogs took place in London in the\nsummer of 1843, under the auspices of M. Leonard, a French gentleman\nof scientific attainments and enlightened character, who had for some\nyears directed his attention to the reasoning powers of animals, and\ntheir cultivation. Two pointers, Braque and Philax, had been the\nespecial objects of his instruction, and their intellectual capacities\nhad been excited in an extraordinary degree. A writer in the \"Atlas\"\nnewspaper thus speaks of the exhibition of these animals:--M.\nLeonard's dogs are not merely clever, well-taught animals, which, by\ndint of practice, can pick up a particular letter, or can, by a sort\nof instinct, indicate a number which may be asked for; they call into\naction powers which, if not strictly intellectual, approximate very\nclosely to reason. For instance, they exert memory. Four pieces of\npaper were placed upon the floor, which the company numbered\nindiscriminately, 2, 4, 6, 8. The numbers were named but once, and yet\nthe dogs were able to pick up any one of them at command, although\nthey were not placed in regular order. The numbers were then changed,\nwith a similar result. Again, different objects were placed upon the\nfloor, and when a similar thing--say a glove--was exhibited, one or\nother of the animals picked it up immediately. The dogs distinguish\ncolours, and, in short, appear to understand everything that is said\nto them.\n\nThe dog Braque plays a game of dominoes with any one who likes. We are\naware that this has been done before; but when it is considered that\nit is necessary to distinguish the number of spots, it must be\nadmitted that this requires the exercise of a power little inferior to\nreason. The dog sits on the chair with the dominoes before him, and\nwhen his adversary plays, he scans each of his dominoes with an air of\nattention and gravity which is perfectly marvellous. When he could not\nmatch the domino played, he became restless and shook his head, and\ngave other indications of his inability to do so. No human being\ncould have paid more attention. The dog seemed to watch the game with\ndeep interest, and what is more, he won.\n\nAnother point strongly indicative of the close approach to the\nreasoning powers, was the exactness with which the dogs obeyed an\nunderstood signal. It was agreed that when three blows were struck\nupon a chair, Philax should do what was requested; and when five were\ngiven, that the task should devolve on Braque. This arrangement was\nstrictly adhered to. We do not intend to follow the various proofs\nwhich were afforded of the intelligence of the dogs; it is sufficient\nto say that a multiplicity of directions given to them were obeyed\nimplicitly, and that they appeared to understand what their master\nsaid as well as any individual in the room.\n\nM. Leonard entered into a highly-interesting explanation of his theory\nregarding the intellectual powers of animals, and the mode he adopts\nto train and subdue horses, exhibiting the defects of the system\ngenerally pursued. His principle is, that horses are not vicious by\nnature, but because they have been badly taught, and that, as with\nchildren, these defects may be corrected by proper teaching. M.\nLeonard does not enter into these inquiries for profit, but solely\nwith a scientific and humane view, being desirous of investigating the\nextent of the reasoning powers of animals.\n\nIt does not appear possible that dogs should be educated to the\nextent of those of M. Leonard, unless we can suppose that they acquire\na tolerably exact knowledge of language. That they in reality learn to\nknow the meaning of certain words, not merely when addressed to them,\nbut when spoken in ordinary conversation, is beyond a doubt; although\nthe accompanying looks and movements in all likelihood help them in\ntheir interpretation. We have known a small spaniel, for instance,\nwhich thoroughly understood the meaning of \"out,\" or \"going out,\" when\nspoken in the most casual way in conversation. A lady of our\nacquaintance has a dog which lives at enmity with another dog in the\nneighbourhood, called York, and angrily barks when the word York is\npronounced in his hearing.\n\nA well-known angler was in the habit of being attended by a\npointer-dog, who saved him the trouble of a landing-net in his\ntrout-fishing excursions. When he had hooked a fish and brought it\nnear the bank, the dog would be in readiness, and taking the fish\nbehind the head, would bring it out to his master.\n\nA writer, who endeavours to prove the existence of souls analogous to\nthe human in animals, relates the following remarkable fact, of which\nhe was himself an eye-witness. He says:--\n\n\"I was with a gentleman who resides in the country, in his study, when\na pointer-dog belonging to him came running to the door of the room,\nwhich was shut, scratching and barking till he was admitted. He then\nused supplicating gestures of every kind, running from his master to\nthe stair behind which his gun stood, then again to his master, and\nback to the gun. The gentleman now comprehended something of his dog's\nmeaning, and took up his gun. The dog immediately gave a bark of joy,\nran out at the door, returned, and then ran to the back-door of the\nhouse, from whence he took the road to a neighbouring hill.\n\n\"His master and I followed him. The dog ran, highly pleased, a little\ndistance before us, showing us the way we should take. After we had\nproceeded about forty paces, he gave us to understand that we should\nturn to the left, by pressing repeatedly against his master, and\npushing him towards the road that turned to the left. We followed his\ndirection, and he accompanied us a few paces, but suddenly he turned\nto the right, running round the whole of the hill. We still proceeded\nto the left, slowly up the ascent, till we were nearly arrived at its\nsummit, the dog in the meantime making the circuit of the hill to the\nright. He was now already higher than we were, when he gave a sudden\nbark, and that moment a hare ran before the muzzle of his master's\ngun, and, of course, met her fate.\"\n\nA gentleman had a pointer so fleet that he often backed him to find\nbirds in a ten-acre field within two minutes, if there were birds in\nit. On entering the field, he seemed to know by instinct where the\nbirds would lie, generally going up to them at once. His nose was so\ngood, that with a brisk wind, he would find his game a hundred and\nfifty yards off across the furrows. He could tell whether a bird was\nhit, and if so would retrieve it some fields off from where it was\nshot. He would never follow a hare unless it was wounded. He would\npoint water-fowl as well as all birds of game, and has been seen\npointing a duck or a moor-hen with the water running over his back at\nthe time. Nothing seemed to spoil this dog, not even rat and otter\nhunting, in both of which he was an adept, as he knew his business;\nand although he would rattle through a wood, he was perfectly steady\nthe next minute out of cover. He has been known to continue at a point\ntwo hours. In high turnips he would contrive to show his master where\nhe was, standing sometimes on his hind legs only, so that his head and\nfore-quarters might be seen. On one occasion he came at full speed so\nsuddenly on a hare, that he slipped up, and fell nearly on his back.\nIn this position he did not move, and it was thought he was in a fit,\ntill the hare jumped up and was killed, when the dog righted himself.\nSo steady was he in backing another dog when game was found, that he\nonce caught sight of a point at the moment of jumping a stile, and\nbalanced himself on it for several seconds till he fell. Once when\nhunting with a young pointer, who had only been taken into the field\ntwo or three times, in order to show him some birds before the\nshooting season, the following occurrence took place. The old dog\nfound some birds in the middle of the field, and pointed them\nsteadily. The puppy had been jumping and gambolling about, with no\ngreat hunt in him, and upon seeing the old dog stand, ran playfully up\nto him. He was, however, seized by the neck, and received a good\nshaking, which sent him away howling, and his companion then turned\nround and steadied himself on his point, without moving scarcely a\nyard. This anecdote is extracted from Hone's \"Year Book,\" and the\nwriter of it goes on to say,--\"What dog is there possessing the\nsingular self-denial of the pointer or setter? The hound gives full\nplay to his feelings; chases, and babbles, and kicks up as much riot\nas he likes, provided he is true to his game; the spaniel has no\nrestraint, except being kept within gun-shot; the greyhound has it all\nhis own way as soon as he is loosed; and the terrier watches at a\nrat's hole, because he cannot get into it: but the pointer, at the\nmoment that other dogs satisfy themselves, and rush upon their game,\nsuddenly stops, and points with almost breathless anxiety to that\nwhich we might naturally suppose he would eagerly seize. The birds\nseen, the dog creeps after them cautiously, stopping at intervals,\nlest by a sudden movement he should spring them too soon. And then let\nus observe and admire his delight when his anxiety--for it is\nanxiety--is crowned with success--when the bird falls, and he lays it\njoyfully at his master's feet. A pointer should never be ill-used. He\nis too much like one of us. He has more headpiece than all the rest of\nthe dogs put together. Narrowly watch a steady pointer on his game,\nand see how he holds his breath. It is evident he must stand in a\ncertain degree of pain, for we all know how quickly a dog respires.\nAnd when he comes up to you in the field he puffs and blows, and his\ntongue is invariably hanging out of his mouth. We never see this on a\npoint, and to check it suddenly must give the dog pain. And yet, how\nsilent he is! how eager he looks! and if a sudden hysteric gasp is\nheard, it ceases in a moment. Surely he is the most perfect artist of\nthe canine race.\"\n\nSome of my readers may like to know that the best breaker of pointers\nI have yet met with is Mr. Lucas, one of the keepers of Richmond Park.\nHe perfectly understands his business, and turns out his pointers in a\nway which few can equal.\n\nIn August 1857, a gentleman residing at Ludlow, in Shropshire, had a\npointer bitch, which produced seven puppies. Six of them were drowned,\nand one left. On the servant going the next morning to give her some\nmilk, she found, besides the puppy, a hedgehog, which had been in the\ngarden some years, most comfortably curled up with them. She took it\naway, but my informant being told that it had got back again, he went\nto see it. The pointer was licking it, and appeared quite as fond of\nit as of her own puppy. He again had it removed, the bitch following,\nand whining with evident anxiety to have it restored to her. This was\nthe more remarkable, as on previous occasions she had tried to kill\nthe hedgehog. This strange affection can only be accounted for by an\nabundant flow of milk, which distended and hurt her, occasioned by her\nother puppies having been destroyed, and she, therefore, seized on the\nhedgehog to relieve her, however incongruous it might be to her former\nfeelings towards it.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE SETTER.]\n\nTHE SETTER.\n\n\nThe old English setter (says Capt. Brown), was originally derived from\na cross between the Spanish pointer and the large water-spaniel, and\nwas justly celebrated for his fine scent. It is difficult now to say\nwhat a setter really is, as the original breed has been crossed with\nspringers, stag and blood-hounds. The Irish breed of setters is\nconsidered better than either the English or Scotch, and a fine brace\nhas been frequently known to fetch fifty guineas. Youatt says that the\nsetter is evidently the large spaniel improved in size and beauty, and\ntaught to mark his game by setting or crouching. He is more active\nthan the pointer, but has not so much patient steadiness. It is\nextremely difficult to decide between the merits of the setter and\npointer as dogs for shooting over. Some authors prefer one, some the\nother. \"Craven\" says, that in his opinion Russian setters are better\nthan English, in nose, sagacity, and every other qualification that a\ndog ought to possess.\n\nCol. Hutchinson relates that he was \"partridge-shooting the season\nbefore last with an intimate friend. The air was soft, and there was a\ngood breeze. We came upon a large turnip-field, deeply trenched on\naccount of its damp situation. A white setter, that habitually carried\na lofty head, drew for awhile, and then came to a point. We got up to\nher. She led us across some ridges, when her companion, a jealous dog\n(a pointer), which had at first backed correctly, most improperly\npushed on in front, but, not being able to acknowledge the scent, went\noff, clearly imagining the bitch was in error. She, however, held on,\nand in beautiful style brought us up direct to a covey. My friend and\nI agreed that she must have been but little, if at all, less than one\nhundred yards off when she first winded the birds; and it was clear to\nus that they could not have been running, for the breeze came directly\nacross the furrows, and she had led us in the wind's eye. We thought\nthe point the more remarkable, as it is generally supposed that the\nstrong smell of turnips diminishes a dog's power of scenting birds.\"\n\nThe same able author says, that on one occasion when a near relation\nof his was shooting on the banks of the Forth, he killed a partridge\nthat was flying across the river. As he had no retriever with him, he\nalmost regretted having fired; but, to his surprise, his setter, Dove,\njumped into the river, although she had never previously (to the\nwriter's knowledge), attempted to swim, seized it, and deposited it\nsafely on the bank. She never had retrieved before, and was not\nparticularly good at \"seeking dead.\"\n\n\"During my residence in the country,\" says M. Huet, \"I had a\ngamekeeper who was very skilful in the art of training dogs. Among\nothers of various kinds which he trained was a large old English\nsetter, with which he had succeeded so well that he could use him both\nfor hunting and shooting.\n\n\"This dog did always as much as could be done by any of his race, in\nwhatever kind of sport he was employed; he even invented advantageous\nmanoeuvres himself, which the gamekeeper affirmed he had never taught\nhim.\n\n\"Once, after I had been already several hours returned from hunting\nwith my people, the dog came running across the yard with a hare upon\nhis back, which he held by the ear, so as to carry her in the most\nconvenient manner to the kitchen from the considerable distance where\nhe must have killed her.\n\n\"Upon another occasion he showed an extraordinary degree of judgment\nand fidelity. The gamekeeper had, on one of the short days of\nDecember, shot at and wounded a deer. Hoping to run him down before\nnight, he instantly put the dog upon the track, which followed it at\nfull speed, and soon was out of sight. At length it grew dark, and the\ngamekeeper returned home, thinking he should find the setter arrived\nthere before him; but he was disappointed, and became apprehensive\nthat his dog might have lost himself, or fallen a prey to some\nravenous animal. The next morning, however, we were all greatly\nrejoiced to see him come running into the yard, whence he directly\nhastened to the door of my apartment, and, on being admitted, ran,\nwith gestures expressive of solicitude and eagerness, to a corner of\nthe room where guns were placed. We understood the hint, and, taking\nthe guns, followed him. He led us not by the road which he himself had\ntaken out of the wood, but by beaten paths half round it, and then by\nseveral wood-cutters' tracks in different directions, to a thicket,\nwhere, following him a few paces, we found the deer which he had\nkilled. The dog seems to have rightly judged that we should have been\nobliged to make our way with much difficulty through almost the whole\nlength of the wood, in order to come to the deer in a straight\ndirection, and he therefore led us a circuitous but open and\nconvenient road. Between the legs of the deer, which he had guarded\nduring the night against the beasts of prey that might otherwise have\nseized upon it, he had scratched a hole in the snow, and filled it\nwith dry leaves for his bed. The extraordinary sagacity which he had\ndisplayed upon this occasion rendered him doubly valuable to us, and\nit therefore caused us very serious regret when, in the ensuing\nsummer, the poor animal went mad, possibly in consequence of his\nexposure to the severe frost of that night, and it became necessary\nfor the gamekeeper to shoot him, which he could not do without\nshedding tears. He said he would willingly have given his best cow to\nsave him; and I confess myself that I would not have hesitated to part\nwith my best horse upon the same terms.\"\n\nMr. Torry, of Edinburgh, had a setter bitch which possessed great\npowers, and especially in finding lost articles, as she would,\nwhenever she was desired, go in search of anything. On one occasion\nhis servant lost a favourite whip in the middle of a moor, and he did\nnot discover or make known this loss till they were about a mile\ndistant from the spot where it was dropped. Mr. Torry ordered the\nservant to go back and bring it, as he stated he was quite certain of\nthe spot where he had dropped it; but after searching for nearly an\nhour, the servant returned and said he could not recover it, upon\nwhich Mr. Torry told his setter to go back for the whip. She started\noff instantly, and in less than five minutes the lost article was at\nhis feet.\n\nThe same dog did a great many other curious things: she would ring the\nbell, fetch her master's slippers, or bring his youngest son, when\nrequired to do so, from another room; which last she effected by\ntaking hold of his pinafore with her mouth, and running before him\nsideways to his master's chair.\n\nA large setter, ill with the distemper, had been most tenderly nursed\nby a lady for three weeks. At length he became so weak as to be placed\non a bed, where he remained three days in a dying situation. After a\nshort absence, the lady, on re-entering the room, observed him to fix\nhis eyes attentively on her, and make an effort to crawl across the\nbed towards her. This he accomplished evidently for the sole purpose\nof licking her hands, which, having done, he expired without a groan.\n\"I am,\" says Mr. Blaine, \"as convinced that the animal was sensible of\nhis approaching dissolution, and that this was a last forcible effort\nto express his gratitude for the care taken of him, as I am of my own\nexistence; and had I witnessed this proof of excellence alone, I\nshould think a life devoted to the amelioration of the condition of\ndogs far too little for their deserts.\"\n\nThere is a curious and interesting anecdote related of a setter who\nhad formed a great friendship with a cat. They were, in fact,\ninseparable companions, and evidently had a great love for each other.\nAs a sporting dog the setter had few equals, but he constantly showed\nhis disgust when obliged to accompany a bad shot into the fields.\nAfter one of the shooting seasons was over, his master took a house in\nLondon, and carried his setter with him, who was seated with the\nfootman on the box of the carriage. It appears that the dog had not\nforgotten his favourite, the cat, for he disappeared from the house,\nand was absent for some days. He at length returned to his master's\nhouse in the country, and brought back the cat with him. How he\ncontrived to find his way backwards and forward, and how he persuaded\nthe cat to accompany him, are mysteries which it would be useless to\nattempt to solve. The fact, however, would seem to be satisfactorily\nvouched for.\n\nSetters are known to be subject to strange freaks. A gentleman had one\nwhich he had shot to for three years. Upon one occasion he took the\ndog out, and fired seven or eight times at birds the dog had found\nhim; but having missed them all, the animal returned home, evidently\ndisgusted. In the evening his owner took him out again and killed\nevery shot, which procured a reconciliation between the dog and its\nmaster.\n\nThe late Dr. Hugh Smith related the following circumstance of a setter\ndog, and maintained that a bitch and a dog may fall passionately in\nlove with each other. As the doctor was travelling from Midhurst into\nHampshire, the dogs, as usual in country places, ran out barking as he\nwas passing through a village; and amongst them he observed a little\nugly mongrel, that was particularly eager to ingratiate himself with a\nsetter bitch that accompanied him. Whilst stopping to water his horse,\nhe remarked how amorous the mongrel continued, and how courteous the\nsetter seemed to her admirer. Provoked to see a creature of Dido's\nhigh blood so obsequious to such mean addresses, the doctor drew one\nof his pistols and shot the dog; he then had the bitch carried on\nhorseback for several miles. From that day, however, she lost her\nappetite, ate little or nothing, had no inclination to go abroad with\nher master, or attend to his call, but seemed to repine like a\ncreature in love, and express sensible concern for the loss of her\ngallant. Partridge season came, but Dido had no nose. Some time after\nshe was coupled to a setter of great excellence, which with no small\ndifficulty had been procured to get a breed from, and all the caution\nwhich even the doctor himself could take was strictly exerted, that\nthe whelps might be pure and unmixed; yet not a puppy did Dido bring\nforth but what was the picture and colour of the mongrel that he had\nso many months before destroyed. The doctor fumed, and, had he not\npersonally paid such attention to preserve the intercourse\nuncontaminated, would have suspected that some negligence had\noccasioned this disappointment; but his views were in many subsequent\nlitters also defeated, for Dido never produced a whelp which was not\nexactly similar to the unfortunate dog which was her first and\nmurdered lover.\n\nThis anecdote may appear strange or untrue to some people; but it is\nan undoubted fact, and in some degree corroborates Dr. Smith's account\nthat the late Sir Gore Ouseley had a Persian mare which produced her\nfirst foal by a zebra in Scotland. She was afterwards a brood-mare in\nEngland, and had several foals, every one of which had the zebra's\nstripes on it. That the force of imagination influences some brutes\ncannot be doubted. A gentleman had a small spaniel which had one of\nher legs broken when pregnant. When she littered, one of the whelps\nhad one of her hind legs broken--the limb was contracted--a perfect\ncallus formed, in everything resembling the leg of the dam.\n\nSetters are difficult to break; but when well broken are invaluable as\nsporting dogs, for they will work all day if they can occasionally\nfind water. John Dudley, duke of Northumberland, is said to have been\nthe first that broke a setter dog to the net, about the year 1555.\n\nCol. Hutchinson says that a French lady, who is fond of animals, at\nhis request committed the following anecdote to paper:--\n\n\"My dear Medor, a beautiful red-and-white setter, was remarkable, I am\ntold, for many rare qualities as a sporting dog; but, of course, none\nof these could be compared, in _my_ eyes, to his faithfulness and\nsagacity. I looked upon him as a friend; and I know that our affection\nwas mutual. I could mention several instances of his intelligence--I\nmight say, reflection; but one in particular gave me such delight\nthat, though years have since passed away, all the circumstances are\nas fresh in my memory as if they had occurred but yesterday. I was\nreturning from school at Versailles; and having rang uselessly for a\nlittle time at the front door, I went round to the carriage-gate to\nhave a chat with my silky-haired favourite. He barked anxiously,\nthrust his cold nose through an opening near the ground, scratched\nvigorously to increase its size, and in numerous ways testified great\njoy at again hearing my voice. I put my hand under the gate to caress\nhim; and while he was licking it, I said in jest, but in a distinct,\nloud voice, 'Dear Medor, I am shut out--go, bring me the keys.' It so\nhappened that the stable where they usually hung was not closed. Medor\nran off, and in a few seconds returned and placed them in my hands. I\nwill not attempt to describe _my_ gratification at such a striking\nproof of his intelligence, nor _his_ evident pride at seeing me enter\nthe hall, nor yet the fright of the servant at thinking how long the\nstreet-door must have been carelessly left open. 'Medor deserves that\nhis life should be written,' said I to my uncle, when afterwards\ntelling him the whole story; 'I am sure his deeds are as wonderful as\nthose related of the 'Chiens celebres' by De Freville.'\n\n\"My setter was immediately declared 'Keeper of the Keys,' and\nforthwith invested with all the rights of office. Nor was this\nconfidence misplaced. He would never give up his charge to any one but\nto my uncle or myself; and always seemed fully sensible of the dignity\nand responsibility of his new position.\"\n\nTolfrey gives, in his \"Sportsman in France,\" so beautiful an instance\nof a setter's untutored intelligence leading him to see the advantage\nof placing running birds between himself and the gun, that I will\nrelate it.\n\n\"On gaining some high ground, the dog drew and stood. She was walked\nup to, but to my astonishment we found no birds. She was encouraged,\nand with great difficulty coaxed off her point. She kept drawing on,\nbut with the same ill success.\n\n\"I must confess I was for the moment sorely puzzled; but knowing the\nexcellence of the animal, I let her alone. She kept drawing on for\nnearly a hundred yards--still no birds. At last, of her own accord,\nand with a degree of instinct amounting almost to the faculty of\nreason, she broke from her point, and dashing off to the right made a\n_detour_, and was presently straight before me, some three hundred\nyards off, setting the game whatever it might be, as much as to say,\n'I'll be ---- if you escape me this time.' We walked steadily on; and\nwhen within about thirty yards of her, up got a covey of red-legged\npartridges, and we had the good fortune to kill a brace each.\n\n\"It is one of the characteristics of these birds to run for an amazing\ndistance before they take wing; but the sagacity of my faithful dog\nbaffled all their efforts to escape. We fell in with several coveys of\nthese birds during the day, and my dog ever after gave them the\ndouble, and kept them between the gun and herself.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE COMFORTER, OR LAP-DOG PUG.]\n\nTHE PUG DOG.\n\n   \"My pug makes a bad pet; he is useless in the field, is somewhat\n    snappish, has little sagacity, and is very cowardly: but there is\n    an air of _bon ton_ about him which renders him a fashionable\n    appendage to a fine lady.\"--_Parisian Gossip._\n\n\nPugs came into fashion, and probably first into this country, in the\nearly part of the reign of William the Third, and were then called\nDutch pugs. At that time they were generally decorated with orange\nribbons, and were in great request amongst the courtiers, from the\nking being very partial to them.\n\nIt is difficult to say how this partiality arose, though it may\nperhaps be accounted for by the following anecdote, related in a\nscarce old book, called \"Sir Roger Williams' Actions in the Low\nCountries,\" printed in 1618.\n\n\"The Prince of Orange (father of William III.) being retired into the\ncamp, Julian Romero, with earnest persuasions, procured license of the\nDuke D'Alva to hazard a _camisado_, or night attack, upon the prince.\nAt midnight Julian sallied out of the trenches with a thousand armed\nmen, mostly pikes, who forced all the guards that they found in their\nway into the place of arms before the Prince's tent, and killed two of\nhis secretaries. The Prince himself escaped very narrowly, for I have\noften heard him say that he thought but for a dog he should have been\ntaken or slain. The attack was made with such resolution, that the\nguards took no alarm until their fellows were running to the place of\narms, with their enemies at their heels, when this dog, hearing a\ngreat noise, fell to scratching and crying, and awakened him before\nany of his men; and though the Prince slept armed, with a lacquey\nalways holding one of his horses ready bridled and saddled, yet, at\nthe going out of his tent, with much ado he recovered his horse before\nthe enemy arrived. Nevertheless, one of his equerries was slain\ntaking horse presently after him, as were divers of his servants. The\nPrince, to show his gratitude, until his dying day kept one of that\ndog's race, and so did many of his friends and followers. These\nanimals were not remarkable for their beauty, being little white dogs,\nwith crooked noses, called _Camuses_ (flat-nosed).\"\n\nIt is difficult to account for the origin of this breed of dogs. So\nfar from having any of the courage of the bulldog, which they resemble\nsomewhat in miniature, they are extremely cowardly. They are also\noccasionally treacherous in their disposition, and will take strong\ndislikes to particular persons.\n\nThe passion of the late Lady Penrhyn for pugs was well known. Two of\nthese, a mother and daughter, were in the eating-room of Penrhyn\nCastle during the morning call of a lady, who partook of luncheon. On\nbonnets and shawls being ordered for the purpose of taking a walk in\nthe grounds, the oldest dog jumped on a chair, and looked first at a\ncold fowl, and then at her daughter. The lady remarked to Lady Penrhyn\nthat they certainly had a design on the tray. The bell was therefore\nrung, and a servant ordered to take it away. The instant the tray\ndisappeared, the elder pug, who had previously played the agreeable\nwith all her might to the visitor, snarled and flew at her, and during\nthe whole walk followed her, growling and snapping at her heels\nwhenever opportunity served. The dog certainly went through two or\nthree links of inference, from the disappearance of the coveted spoil\nto Lady Penrhyn's order, and from Lady Penrhyn's order to the remark\nmade by her visitor.\n\nMonsieur Blaze, in his \"History of Dogs,\" mentions one who was taught\nto pronounce several words. The editor of the \"Dumfries Courier\" has\ndeclared most solemnly that he \"heard a pug repeatedly pronounce the\nword 'William,' almost as distinctly as ever it was enunciated by the\nhuman voice. He saw the dog lying on a rug before the fire, when one\nof his master's sons, whose name is William, and to whom he is more\nobedient than to any one else, happened to give him a shove, when the\nanimal ejaculated, for the first time, the word 'William.' The whole\nparty were as much amazed as Balsam was when his ass spoke; and though\nthey could hardly believe their own ears, one of them exclaimed,\n'Could you really find it in your heart to hurt the poor dog after he\nhas so distinctly pronounced your name?' This led to a series of\nexperiments, which have been repeated for the satisfaction of various\npersons, but still the animal performs with difficulty. When his\nmaster seizes his fore-legs, and commands him to say 'William,' he\ntreats the hearer With a gurring voluntary; and after this species of\nmusic has been protracted for a longer or a shorter period, his voice\nseems to fall a full octave before he comes out with the important\nword.\"\n\nIn the \"Bibliotheque Germanique,\" published in 1720, there is an\naccount of a dog at Berlin, who was made to pronounce a few words, but\nthe one which he ejaculated most distinctly was \"Elizabeth.\" Sir\nWilliam Gell also had a dog which was well known to repeat some words,\nbut it should be mentioned that he never did this except his master\nheld his jaws in a peculiar way.[R]\n\nIt has been said of the pug dog that he is applicable to no sport,\nappropriated to no useful purpose, susceptible of no predominant\npassion, and in no way remarkable for any pre-eminent quality. He\nseems, indeed, intended to be the patient follower of a ruminating\nphilosopher, or the adulatory and consolatory companion of an old\nmaid; but is now gradually becoming discarded as a pet, and is seldom\nseen peeping out of a carriage window or basking in a London balcony.\n\nThe Comforter, of which a portrait is given at the head of the present\nchapter, is a rare and beautiful little dog, apparently a cross\nbetween the Maltese and King Charles spaniel. His colour is generally\nwhite, with black or brown patches; his ears are long, and his head\nbroad on the upper part, with an acute muzzle; the hair is long over\nthe whole body, with the fore legs feathered; his tail is curled, and\nfeathered with very long hairs. This is the smallest of any of the\ndistinct races of dogs, and is frequently not above a foot from the\ntip of the nose to the point of the tail.\n\n[Illustration: \"A PUGNACIOUS PAIR.\"]\n\n\n\n\nTHE TURNSPIT.\n\n\nHow well do I recollect, in the days of my youth, watching the\noperations of a turnspit at the house of a worthy old Welsh clergyman\nin Worcestershire, who taught me to read. He was a good man, wore a\nbushy wig, black worsted stockings, and large plated buckles in his\nshoes. As he had several boarders, as well as day-scholars, his two\nturnspits had plenty to do. They were long-bodied, crooked-legged, and\nugly dogs, with a suspicious, unhappy look about them, as if they were\nweary of the task they had to do, and expected every moment to be\nseized upon to perform it. Cooks in those days, as they are said to be\nat present, were very cross, and if the poor animal, wearied with\nhaving a larger joint than usual to turn, stopped for a moment, the\nvoice of the cook might be heard rating him in no very gentle terms.\nWhen we consider that a large solid piece of beef would take at least\nthree hours before it was properly roasted, we may form some idea of\nthe task a dog had to perform in turning a wheel during that time. A\npointer has pleasure in finding game, the terrier worries rats with\nconsiderable glee, the greyhound pursues hares with eagerness and\ndelight, and the bull-dog even attacks bulls with the greatest energy,\nwhile the poor turnspit performs his task by compulsion, like a\nculprit on a tread-wheel, subject to scolding or beating if he stops a\nmoment to rest his weary limbs, and is then kicked about the kitchen\nwhen the task is over. There is a story (it is an old one) of the Bath\nturnspits, who were in the habit of collecting together in the abbey\nchurch of that town during divine service. It is said, but I will not\nvouch for the truth of the story, that hearing one day the word\n\"spit,\" which occurred in the lesson for the day, they all ran out of\nthe church in the greatest hurry, evidently associating the word with\nthe task they had to perform.\n\nThese dogs are still used in Germany, and her Majesty has two or three\nof them amongst her collection of these quadrupeds. They are extremely\nbandy-legged, so as to appear almost incapable of running, with long\nbodies and rather large heads. They are very strong in the jaws, and\nare what are called hard-bitten. It is a peculiarity in these dogs\nthat they generally have the iris of one eye black and the other\nwhite. Their colour varies, but the usual one is a bluish grey,\nspotted with black. The tail is generally curled on the back.\n\nAs two turnspits were generally kept to do the roasting work of a\nfamily, each dog knew his own day, and it was not an easy task to make\none work two days running. Even on his regular day a dog would\nfrequently hide himself, so cordially did he hate his prescribed\nduties. A story is said to have been related to a gentleman by the\nDuke de Liancourt, of two turnspits employed in his kitchen, who had\nto take their turns every other day to get into the wheel. One of\nthem, in a fit of laziness, hid himself on the day he should have\nworked, so that his companion was forced to mount the wheel in his\nstead, who, when his employment was over, began crying and wagging his\ntail, and making signs for those in attendance to follow him. This was\ndone, and the dog conducted them into a garret, where he dislodged his\nidle companion, and killed him immediately.\n\nThe following circumstance is said to have taken place in the Jesuits'\nCollege at La Fleche.\n\nAfter the cook had prepared his meat for roasting, he looked for the\ndog whose turn it was to work the spit, but not being able to find\nhim, he attempted to employ for this service another that happened to\nbe in the kitchen. The dog, however, resisted, and, having bitten the\ncook, ran away. The man, with whom the dog was a particular favourite,\nwas much astonished at his ferocity. The wound he had received was a\nsevere one, and bled profusely, so that it was necessary to dress it.\nWhile this was doing, the dog, which had run into the garden, and\nfound out the one whose turn it was to work the spit, came driving him\nbefore him into the kitchen, when the latter immediately went of his\nown accord into the wheel.\n\nBuffon calls the turnspit the _Basset a jambes torses_, but some of\nthe breed are said to have straight legs. Short as they are, the body\nis extremely strong and heavy in proportion to the height of the dog,\nand this weight must facilitate the turning of the wheel.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE FOXHOUND.]\n\nTHE FOXHOUND.\n\n   \"Warn'd by the streaming light and merry lark,\n    Forth rush the jolly clan; with tuneful throats\n    They carol loud, and in grand chorus joined,\n    Salute the new-born day.\n\n                              Then to the copse\n    Thick with entangled grass, or prickly furze,\n    With silence lead thy many-coloured hounds\n    In all their beauty's pride.\"--SOMERVILLE.\n\n\nIt is impossible to enter upon a description of the foxhound without\nconsiderable diffidence. Whether we consider the enthusiastic\nadmiration it excites amongst sportsmen, the undeviating perseverance\nand high courage of the animal, its perfect symmetry, and the music of\nits tongue, which warms the heart and gives life and spirit to man and\nhorse, it must be difficult to do justice to his merits. I will,\nhowever, endeavour to do my best; and should I fail, it will not be\nfor want of admiration of the noble animal whose qualifications I am\nabout to illustrate with characteristic anecdotes.\n\nIn giving a description of the various breeds of dogs, every one must\nbe aware that by crossing and recrossing them many of those we now see\nhave but little claim to originality. The foxhound, the old Irish\nwolf-dog, and the colley or shepherd's dog, may, perhaps, be\nconsidered as possessing the greatest purity of blood. My opinion\nrespecting the foxhound is partly founded on the following curious\nfact:--\n\nIn Wilkinson's \"Manners and Customs of the Egyptians,\" there is a\nrepresentation of as varmint a pack of foxhounds as modern eye could\nwish to see. It is copied from a painting found in the interior of the\ntomb of the Pharaoh under whom Joseph served. Every individual hound\nis characteristic of the present breed, with all their courage and\nanimation. Each dog's tail was as an old Irish huntsman, who used to\nglory in seeing his hounds carry their sterns after the hardest day,\nonce said to his master, \"not behind them at all, plaize your honour,\nbut curling out over their shoulders.\"\n\nIf the copy be correct, and there is no reason to doubt it, the dog of\nthis breed must be considered of a much more ancient date than is\ngenerally supposed. There is every reason to believe that the first\ndogs came from Asia. Indeed, history, both sacred and profane,\nconfirms this. At all events, the fact just mentioned is sufficiently\ncurious, and may serve to confirm the supposition I have ventured to\nmake of the purity of the blood of our modern foxhound.\n\nA volume might be written on the characteristics of these dogs, both\nin the kennel and the field, and I will endeavour to illustrate this\nby a few anecdotes.\n\nIt is well known to those who have lived near a kennel, that every\nmorning at the first gleam of light the hounds invariably salute the\nglorious return of day, by joining simultaneously in a full chorus of\nvoices, 'a musical discord,' called by huntsmen \"their morning hymn.\"\nThis concert does not consist of barking and yapping as many may\nsuppose, but something like the \"Hullah system,\" yet far more sonorous\nto a sportsman's ear.\n\nThose who have witnessed the process of feeding hounds cannot but\nacknowledge that it is a most pleasing sight. We see the anxiety\ndepicted in their countenances to detect the huntsman's eye, who calls\nthem singly by name in a low tone of voice, nor does one offer to stir\ntill his time comes. Each dog also takes every day the same position,\nlike children at school, except that all are obedient, and there is\nno noise. His late Majesty George IV., in his younger days, was a\nconstant attendant at the royal kennel at feeding-time, and many of\nthe royal family have also been to see the hounds fed at that place.\n\nClose to the Duke of Beaufort's kennel at Badmington a tame fox was\nconfined, and between it and the foxhounds a great friendship existed.\nWhen the hounds were let out they played with the fox, who, on his\npart, was equally ready to greet them. This reciprocal kindness had\ncontinued some time, until one day a hunted fox, much exhausted, ran\nfor shelter into a bush close to the hutch of the tame one. The\nhounds, in the eagerness of the chase, ran into the latter, mistaking\nhim for the other, and instantly killed him. No sooner, however, were\nthey aware of their having occasioned the death of their old\nacquaintance, than each hound slunk away, appearing conscious and\nashamed of what had been done, nor could they be induced to touch the\ndead fox when thrown amongst them.\n\nAmongst other curious anecdotes of foxhounds, the following may be\nmentioned. Some years ago, Sir John Cope had a hound called Clermont,\nwhich was in the constant habit, when the pack killed a fox, of taking\npossession of the animal's head. This he invariably carried in his\nmouth, as if it was a trophy, and on arriving at the kennel would put\nit down at the kennel door. In this way he must have imposed a severe\ntask on himself, as the pack had frequently twenty miles to go home\nwhen the chase was over. The weight was not indeed great; but the\ndog's mouth being distended the whole time must have made the task\nanything but a pleasant one.\n\nSome hounds are possessed of extraordinary instinct, which enables\nthem to find their way back to their kennels over country which they\nhad never before traversed. When George III. kept hounds in the Home\nPark, Windsor, General Manners, one of the equerries, took a hound\nnamed Bustler with him in his carriage to London. He remained there a\nfew days, and then travelled to Bloxholm in Lincolnshire, the dog\nbeing still his companion inside the carriage. In less than a month,\nhowever, Bustler found his way back to Frogmore.\n\nThe captain of a vessel informed me that he had once picked up a dog\nin mid-channel between Brighton and Calais, swimming boldly and\nstrongly towards the French coast. If this dog was endeavouring to\nmake his way back to a beloved master, it was an extraordinary\ninstance of affection.\n\nA few years ago some hounds were embarked at Liverpool for Ireland,\nand were safely delivered at a kennel far up in that country. One of\nthem, not probably liking his quarters, found his way back to the port\nat which he had been landed from Liverpool. On arriving at it, some\ntroops were being embarked in a ship bound to that place. This was a\nfortunate circumstance for the old hound, as during the bustle he was\nnot noticed. He safely arrived at Liverpool, and on his old master, or\nhuntsman rather, coming down stairs one morning, he recognised his\nformer acquaintance waiting to greet him.\n\nA similar circumstance happened to some hounds sent by the late Lord\nLonsdale to Ireland. Three of them escaped from the kennel in that\ncountry, and made their appearance again in Leicestershire.\n\nThe love of home, or most probably affection for a particular\nindividual, must be strongly implanted in dogs to induce them to\nsearch over unexplored and unknown regions for the being and home they\nlove. Hunger, it might be supposed, would alone stop the ardour of\ntheir pursuit, and induce them to seek for nourishment and shelter at\na stranger's door. But such is not the case. Hungry, foot-sore,\nfatigued, and exhausted, the noble and faithful animal presses onward,\nguided by an instinct which man does not possess, and proving the\nstrength of his love by his indefatigable and ardent exertions. Poor,\nfaithful animal! and is it possible that you are subjected to ill\ntreatment, cruelty, and neglect by those who owe you a large debt of\ngratitude? Your exertions procure amusement, your watchfulness and\nfidelity give protection, and neither sickness nor misfortune will\ninduce you to forsake the object of your attachment.\n\nBut it is time to resume our anecdotes of foxhounds, and the following\nis a proof of the high courage they so often display, as well as\ntheir emulative spirit.\n\nIn drawing a strong covert, a young bitch gave tongue very freely,\nwhilst none of the other hounds challenged. The whipper-in rated to no\npurpose, the huntsman insisted she was wrong, and the whip was applied\nwith great severity, in doing which the lash most unfortunately took\nthe orb of the eye out of the socket. Notwithstanding the excruciating\npain she must inevitably have laboured under, the poor suffering\nanimal again flew to the scent, and exultingly proved herself to be\nright, for a fox having stole away, she broke covert after him\nunheeded, and continued the chase alone. After much delay and cold\nhunting the pack at length hit off the chase. At some distance a\nfarmer made a signal with much vehemence to the company, who, upon\ncoming up to him, were informed that they were very far behind the\nfox, for that a single hound, very bloody about the head, had passed a\nfield from him, and was running breast-high, and that there was little\nchance of getting up to him. The pack, however, at her coming to a\ncheck, did at length get up, and, after some cold hunting, the bitch\nagain hit off the scent, and the fox was killed after a severe run.\nThe eye of the poor but high-spirited dog, which had hung pendent\nduring the chase, was removed by a pair of scissors after the fox was\ndead.\n\nThe following is another instance of the persevering strength and\nspirit of foxhounds:--\n\nA gentleman of the name of Pearson, residing in Essex, had a couple\nand a half of young and newly-entered hounds. One day they\naccidentally followed him in his ride, and strayed into a large covert\nby the roadside, and presently found something which they eagerly\nhunted. After trying a long time to halloo them off, Mr. Pearson\nproceeded to Colchester, where his business detained him some hours.\nUpon his return he heard them in the covert, and found, by some people\nat work by the side of it, that they had continued running during his\nabsence, and had driven a fox over the field in which they were at\nwork backward and forward several times. Mr. Pearson got as near to\nthem as possible, continuing to give them every encouragement. After\nhunting the fox a long time in the covert he at last broke, and was\nkilled after a run of some miles. The time these hounds were hunting\nwas seven hours. Hounds have even been known to have continued a chase\nfor ten hours, great part of the time being hard running. A fox was\nonce unkennelled near Boroughbridge in Yorkshire, at twenty-seven\nminutes past nine, and except half-an-hour taken up in bolting him\nfrom a rabbit-burrow, the hounds had a continued run until fourteen\nminutes past five in the evening, when they killed the fox in good\nstyle. During this space of nearly eight hours of most severe\nrunning, several horses died in the field, and others were severely\ninjured.\n\nA hound, the property of Mr. Teasdale of Ousby, Cumberland, during a\nstorm, took the quest of a fox, which he pursued for the extraordinary\nspace of thirty hours, four of which were run within view of some\nminers, who were employed upon Dalton Fell. The dog and fox were at\nthat time running round the bottom of a hill. The arch dog, still\nkeeping on the side of Reynard which led to his clift in the rock, at\nlast came up to him; but being so much exhausted by his toilsome\nchase, he was unable to make him his prey for some time, and they lay\nas if lifeless together. The miners then made up to his assistance;\nbut so ardent was his desire to finish Reynard himself, that he would\nnot suffer them to come near till he had destroyed him.\n\nA foxhound bitch, in the middle of a chase, was taken in labour, and\nbrought forth a puppy. Ardour for the pursuit, united to attachment\nfor her progeny, induced her to snatch it up in her mouth, and follow\nher companions, with whom she soon came up, and in this interesting\nsituation she continued the whole day,--a discredit to the huntsman,\nand all who joined in the pursuit, to allow the poor animal to undergo\nso violent an exercise under such circumstances.\n\nIn order to account for the power of endurance which foxhounds are\nknown to possess, it should be mentioned that their strength is very\ngreat. A well-bred hound has been known to measure as much round the\narm of the fore-leg as a moderate-sized horse does below the knee. I\nwas assured of this fact by a well-known huntsman, and it may serve in\nsome measure to account for the following instance of undeviating\nperseverance in a foxhound, related by Mr. Daniel in his Supplement to\nhis \"Rural Sports.\"\n\nThe circumstance took place in the year 1808, in the counties of\nInverness and Perth, and perhaps surpasses any length of pursuit known\nin the annals of hunting. On the 8th of June in that year, a fox and\nhound were seen near Dunkeld in Perthshire, on the high road,\nproceeding at a slow trotting pace. The dog was about fifty yards\nbehind the fox, and each was so fatigued as not to gain on the other.\nA countryman very easily caught the fox, and both it and the dog were\ntaken to a gentleman's house in the neighbourhood, where the fox died.\nIt was afterwards ascertained that the hound belonged to the Duke of\nGordon, and that the fox was started on the morning of the 4th of\nJune, on the top of those hills called Monaliadh, which separate\nBadenoch from Fort Augustus. From this it appeared that the chase\nlasted four days, and that the distance traversed from the place where\nthe fox was unkennelled to the spot where it was caught, without\nmaking any allowances for doubles, crosses, &c., and as the crow\nflies, exceeded seventy miles.\n\nIt is a curious fact, that if a foxhound is taken for the first time\ninto a new and strange country, and he is lost, when he returns to his\nkennel he does so across fields where he had never been before, and\nnot by roads along which he had been taken out. A gentleman who kept\nfoxhounds had an opportunity of observing this. His house and kennel\nwere on the banks of a river, and a new hound accompanied the pack,\nwhich went across a bridge near the kennel. He was lost, and came back\nover the fields direct upon the kennel, and howled when he arrived on\nthe banks of the river. We know but little of the peculiar instinct\nwhich thus enables dogs to find their way across a strange country.\n\nLet me here give an anecdote that was communicated to me by the\nbrother of the gentleman to whom it occurred. This gentleman was a\nrigid Roman Catholic, and his constant companion was a foxhound. As\nsoon as the forty days of Lent began, this dog left his master and\ncame to the house of my informant, some miles distant, where he found\nfood to his liking, and stayed with him during Lent, at the end of\nwhich he returned to his owner. He must have measured time very\naccurately, and has continued the practice for some years.\n\nIn the year 1813 some hounds belonging to his late Majesty, George\nIII., were sold to Mr. Walker, of Mitchell Grove, near Worthing. A few\nweeks after their arrival at that place, one couple of them were sent\nin a stage-waggon to Dr. Willis, then living near Stamford in\nLincolnshire. The wagon went through London, and from thence to Dr.\nWillis's seat. However surprising it may appear, one of these dogs, in\nless than a month after he had left the kennel near Windsor, found his\nway back to it. It might be supposed that in this length of time all\nrecollection would have ceased, but such we have seen was not the\ncase.\n\nThe circumstance which happened to the late Duke of Northumberland's\npack proves the foxhound's eagerness after his game. In 1796 the\nhounds ran a fox into a very large furze-cover near Alnwick, called\nBunker's Hill, where he was lost in an earth which no one knew of.\nUpon the dogs coming to the kennel two couple and a half of the best\nof them were missing, and not returning that night, it was thought\nthey had found a fox, and had gone off by themselves in pursuit of\nhim. Several men were sent in search of them to all the earths and\ncrags for twenty miles round, but no tidings could be gained of them.\nThe course where the fox was lost was then searched, and the earth\ndiscovered, and in digging about two yards deep, one dog was found;\nseveral yards further three more, fast in the ground; and two yards\ndeeper the fifth was dug up. They were all dead.\n\nIt is well known to those who served in the Peninsular War, that the\nlate Lord Hill kept a pack of foxhounds while he commanded a division\nof the army. During a period of repose a fox was unkennelled in the\nneighbourhood of Corja, in Spain. The run was severe for the space of\nthirty minutes, when the fox, being sharply pressed by the leading\nhounds, leaped down a precipice of sixty yards perpendicular. Seven\ncouple of the hounds immediately dashed after him, six couple of which\nwere killed on the spot. The remainder of the pack (twenty-two couple)\nwould probably have shared the same fate, had not the most forward\nriders arrived in time to flog them off, which they did with\ndifficulty, being scarcely able to restrain their impetuosity. The fox\nwas found at the bottom, and covered with the bodies of the hounds.\n\nI might have hesitated to mention the following fact, had it not been\nwitnessed by some well-known sportsmen of the present day.\n\nDuring a severe chase, and towards the termination of it, when the fox\nwas in view, another fox was seen, to the astonishment of the forward\nriders, running in the middle of the pack of hounds, perfectly\nunnoticed by them. It is supposed that the dogs ran over this fox,\nwho, finding himself in the midst of them, probably thought it the\nsafest and wisest plan he could pursue to continue with them till he\nhad an opportunity of making his escape.\n\nIn relating anecdotes of foxhounds it is almost unavoidable not to\nmention fox-hunters, and we know not how we can give to our readers a\nbetter notion of the stirring spirit and devotion to their sport,\ndistinguishing them beyond all other sportsmen, than by offering some\nextracts from the pen of the late Colonel Cook, a master of hounds,\nbeloved by all who knew him, and venerated by those who hunted with\nhim.\n\nHounds will not work through difficulties, nor will they exert\nthemselves in that killing sort of manner when they are out of blood.\nIf after all you should, owing to ill-luck and bad weather, be in want\nof it, the best way is to leave an earth open in a country where you\ncan spare a fox, and where you can without much trouble dig him, give\nhim to the hounds on the earth, and go home. But whatever you do,\nnever turn out a bag-fox; it is injurious to your hounds, and makes\nthem wild and unsteady: besides, nothing is more despicable, or held\nin greater contempt by real sportsmen, than the practice of hunting\nbag-foxes. It encourages a set of rascals to steal from other hunts;\ntherefore keep in mind, that if there were no receivers there would be\nno thieves. What chiefly contributes to make fox-hunting so very far\nsuperior to other sports is the wildness of the animal you hunt, and\nthe difficulty in catching him. It is rather extraordinary, but\nnevertheless a well-known fact, that a pack of hounds, which are in\nsport and blood, will not eat a bag-fox. I remember hearing an\nanecdote (when I was in Shropshire many years ago) of the late Lord\nStamford's hounds, which I will relate to you as I heard it. Lord\nForester, and his brother, Mr. Frank Forester, then boys, were at\ntheir uncle's for the holidays. A farmer came to inform them a fox had\njust been seen in a tree. All the nets about the premises were\ncollected, and the fox was caught; but the Squire of Wiley, a\nsportsman himself, and a strict preserver of foxes, sent the fox\nimmediately to Lord Stamford by one of his tenants, that he might be\ninformed of the real circumstance. The next day the hounds were out,\nand also the Squire's tenant; they had drawn some time without\nfinding, when the farmer reminded his Lordship of the fox caught. 'Do\nyou think,' said he, 'I will allow my hounds to hunt a bag-fox? I\nshould never be forgiven by my huntsman!' At last, after drawing\nseveral coverts without finding, his Lordship gave his consent (but it\nwas to be kept a great secret), and the bag was to be touched upon the\nground in a line for a covert they were going to draw, to have the\nappearance of a disturbed fox, and the fox to be turned down in it.\n\nOn going to covert, a favourite hound, called Partner, feathered on\nthe scent. The huntsman exclaimed in ecstacy, 'Old Partner touches on\nhim; we shall certainly find in the next covert.' They found the\nbag-fox, and had a tolerable run; but when they killed him, not a\nhound would eat him! 'Now, Sir,' said his lordship to the farmer, 'you\nhave deceived the huntsman and the field, but you cannot deceive my\nhounds.'\n\nNext to turning out bag-men, lifting of hounds is the most\nprejudicial. They should seldom be taken 'off their noses,' nothing is\ngained by it in the end; hounds that are seldom lifted will kill more\nfoxes in the course of a season than those that frequently are. Some\nyears ago, when hunting with the Duke of Grafton's hounds in Suffolk,\nthey came to a check all in a moment, at a barn near some cross-roads;\nthey were left alone, and made a fling of themselves, in a perfect\ncircle, without hitting the scent; many gentlemen exclaimed, 'It is\nall over now, Tom; the only chance you have is to make _a wide cast_.'\n'No,' answered the huntsman, 'if the fox is not in that barn, my\nhounds ought to be hung.'\n\nDick Foster, the whipper-in, now huntsman to Mr. Villebois (and a very\ngood one he is), was ordered to dismount and see if he could discover\nthe fox; he returned and said he was _not_ there.' Tom Rose still was\npositive; at last he was viewed on a beam in the barn, and they killed\nhim, after a further run of about a mile. I mention this trivial\ncircumstance to show you clearly, that if the hounds had been hurried\nup either of the roads on a wide cast, made by an ignorant huntsman,\nthe fox would inevitably have been lost.\n\nWere I to have some sporting friends coming to see my hounds in the\nfield, I should prefer going away _close at him_ for twenty minutes,\nthen a short check, to bring the hounds to a hunting scent, and a\nquick thing at last, and run into him, in order that my friends might\nbe convinced the hounds could _hunt_ as well as run; for of this I am\ncertain, if they cannot do _both_, they merit not the name of\nfoxhounds.\n\n[Illustration: HEAD OF A FAVORITE FOX-HOUND.]\n\n[Illustration: HOUNDS IN A BATH.]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE BEAGLE.]\n\nTHE BEAGLE.\n\n\nThe beagle may be mentioned as a sort of foxhound in miniature, and\nnothing can well be more perfect than the shape of these small dogs.\nBut how different are they in their style of hunting! The beagle,\nwhich has always his nose to the ground, will puzzle for a length of\ntime on one spot, sooner than he will leave the scent. The foxhound,\non the contrary, full of life, spirit, and high courage, is always\ndashing and trying forward. The beagle, however, has extraordinary\nperseverance, as well as nicety of scent, and also a liveliness of\nmanner in hunting, which, joined to its musical and melodious note,\nwill always afford pleasure to the lovers of the chase, or at least to\nthose who are unable to undertake the more exciting sport of\nfox-hunting. In rabbit-shooting, in gorse and thick cover, nothing\ncan be more cheerful than the beagle; and they have been called\nrabbit-beagles from this employment, for which they are peculiarly\nqualified, especially those dogs which are somewhat wire-haired.\n\nIn the reign of Queen Elizabeth a race of beagles had been bred so\nsmall, that a pack of them could be carried out to the field in a pair\nof panniers. That Princess is said to have had little _singing\nbeagles_, a single one of which could be placed in a man's glove, and\nthey probably at this time received the name of _lap-dog_ beagles.\nDryden, in his \"Fables,\" alludes to these dogs as follows:--\n\n   \"The graceful goddess was array'd in green;\n    About her feet were little beagles seen,\n    That watch'd with upward eyes the motions of their queen.\"\n\nPope also mentions them,--\n\n   \"To plains with well-bred beagles we repair,\n    And trace the mazes of the circling hare.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE MASTIFF.]\n\nTHE MASTIFF.\n\n    \"Great Brittain was so noted for its Mastiffs, that the Roman\n    Emperors appointed an Officer in this Island, with the title of\n    Procurator Cynegii, whose sole business was to breed, and transmit\n    from hence to the Amphitheatre, such as would prove equal to the\n    combats of the place:\n\n               Magnaque taurorum fracturi colla Britanni.\"\n\n\nThis noble dog, which, like the bull-dog, is supposed to be an\noriginal breed peculiar to this country, is now seldom to be met with\nin its pure state, it having been crossed and recrossed with other\ndogs. Perhaps the finest specimen now to be found is one at\nChatsworth (where also is to be seen a noble Alpine mastiff). It is a\ndog of gigantic size, of a yellowish colour, with a black muzzle.\nThere is also another at Elvaston Castle in Derbyshire, not so large\nas the one at Chatsworth, but apparently of the true breed, and for\nwhich we believe Lord Harrington gave the sum of fifty guineas.\n\nThese dogs are brave, faithful to their trust in an extraordinary\ndegree, and have a noble disposition.\n\nTheir strength also is very great, and their bark deep and loud. Sir\nWalter Scott's remarks on the character of the dog may be well applied\nto the mastiff,--\"The Almighty, who gave the dog to be the companion\nof our pleasures and our toils, hath invested him with a nature noble\nand incapable of deceit. He forgets neither friend nor foe--remembers,\nand with accuracy, both benefit and injury. He hath a share of man's\nintelligence, but no share of man's falsehood. You may bribe a soldier\nto slay a man with his sword, or a witness to take life by false\naccusation, but you cannot make a dog tear his benefactor. He is the\nfriend of man, save when man justly incurs his enmity.\"\n\nThe mastiff, indeed, usually shows a remarkable and peculiar warmth in\nhis attachments; and, on the other hand, he will evince his dislike in\nthe strongest manner. It has been observed of him, that if he is once\nseverely corrected or insulted, it is almost impossible to eradicate\nthe feeling from his memory, and it is no less difficult to attain a\nreconciliation with him. He seems conscious of his own strength,\npower, and authority, and will seldom condescend to lower his dignity\nby servile fawning; while he appears to consider his services as only\nbefitting a trust of the highest importance. He is naturally possessed\nof strong instinctive sensibility, speedily obtains a knowledge of all\nthe duties required of him, and discharges them with the most punctual\nassiduity. His vigilance is very striking. He makes regular rounds of\nthe premises committed to his care, examines every part of them, and\nsees that everything is in a state of perfect security. During the\nnight he will give a signal of his presence by repeated barkings,\nwhich are increased upon the least cause of alarm. Unlike the\nbull-dog, the mastiff always warns before he attacks. His voice is\ndeep and powerful in tone.\n\nSuch is the animal of which I now propose to give a few characteristic\nanecdotes.\n\nAbout the year 1742, a lady, who resided in a lone house in Cheshire,\npermitted all her servants, except one female, to go to a supper and\ndance at a Christmas merry-meeting, held at an inn about three miles\ndistant, and kept by the uncle of the maid who had remained in the\nhouse with her mistress. The servants were not expected back till the\nmorning; consequently the doors and windows were, as usual, secured,\nand the lady and her servant were going to bed, when they were\nalarmed by the voice of some persons apparently attempting to break\ninto the house. Fortunately a great mastiff dog, named Caesar, was in\nthe kitchen, and set up a tremendous barking, which, however, had not\nthe effect of intimidating the robbers. The maid-servant distinctly\nheard that the attempt to enter the house was made by the villains\nendeavouring to force a way through a hole under the sunk story in the\nadjoining back-kitchen or scullery. Being a young woman of courage,\nshe went towards the spot, accompanied by the dog, and patting him on\nthe back, exclaimed, \"At him, Caesar!\" The dog made a furious attack on\nthe person who seemed to be at the hole, and gave something a violent\nshake, when all became quiet, and the animal returned to her with his\nmouth all besmeared with blood. She afterwards heard some little\nbustle outside of the house, which soon was stilled. The lady and\nservant sat up until morning, without farther molestation, when, on\ngoing into the court, a quantity of blood was found on the outside of\nthe wall. The other servants, on their return, brought word to the\nmaid that her uncle, the innkeeper, had died suddenly during the\ncourse of the night--they understood of a fit of apoplexy--and was\nintended to be buried that day. The maid got leave to go to the\nfuneral, and was surprised to find the coffin on her arrival screwed\ndown. She insisted on taking a last view of the body, which was most\nunwillingly granted; when, to her great surprise and horror, she found\nhis death had been occasioned from his throat being torn open. What\nhad happened the evening before immediately rushed to her imagination,\nand it appeared too evident to her that she had been the innocent\ncause of her uncle's death; and, upon further inquiry, it was proved\nthat he and one of his servants had formed the design of robbing the\nhouse and murdering the lady, in her unprotected condition, during the\nabsence of her servants; but, by the watchfulness and courage of her\ndog, their design was frustrated.\n\nAn anecdote is related of a mastiff, who, in the reign of Queen\nElizabeth, when Lord Buckhurst was ambassador at the Court of Charles\nthe Ninth, alone and unassisted, successively engaged a bear, a\nleopard, and a lion, and pulled them all down.\n\nVery extraordinary stories have been told of these and some other\nkinds of dogs discovering and circumventing plans to injure the\npersons of their masters, in which it is difficult to place implicit\ncredit. We give one of the most marvellous of these anecdotes, as it\nis usually related:--\n\nSir H. Lee, of Ditchley, in Oxfordshire, ancestor of the late Earls of\nLichfield, had a mastiff which guarded the house and yard, but had\nnever met with any particular attention from his master. In short, he\nwas not a favourite dog, and was retained for his utility only, and\nnot from any partial regard.\n\nOne night, as Sir Harry was retiring to his chamber, attended by his\nfavourite valet, an Italian, the mastiff silently followed them\nup-stairs, which he had never been known to do before, and, to his\nmaster's astonishment, presented himself in the bed-room. Being deemed\nan intruder, he was instantly ordered to be turned out; which, being\ncomplied with, the poor animal began scratching violently at the door,\nand howling loudly for admission. The servant was sent to drive him\naway. Discouragement, however, could not check his intended labour of\nlove; he returned again, and was more importunate to be let in than\nbefore. Sir Harry, weary of opposition, though surprised beyond\nmeasure at the dog's apparent fondness for the society of a master who\nhad never shown him the least kindness, and wishing to retire to rest,\nbade the servant open the door, that they might see what he wanted to\ndo. This done, the mastiff, with a wag of the tail, and a look of\naffection at his lord, deliberately walked up, and crawling under the\nbed, laid himself down, as if desirous to take up his night's lodging\nthere.\n\nTo save farther trouble, and not from any partiality for his company,\nthis indulgence was allowed. The valet withdrew, and all was still.\nAbout the solemn hour of midnight the chamber door opened, and a\nperson was heard stepping across the room. Sir Harry started from\nsleep; the dog sprung from his covert, and seizing the unwelcome\ndisturber, fixed him to the spot. All was dark: Sir Harry rang his\nbell in great trepidation, in order to procure a light. The person\nwho was pinned to the floor by the courageous mastiff roared for\nassistance. It was found to be the favourite valet, who little\nexpected such a reception. He endeavoured to apologise for his\nintrusion, and to make the reasons which induced him to take this step\nappear plausible; but the importunity of the dog, the time, the place,\nthe manner of the valet, raised suspicions in Sir Harry's mind, and he\ndetermined to refer the investigation of the business to a magistrate.\n\nThe perfidious Italian, alternately terrified by the dread of\npunishment and soothed by the hope of pardon, at length confessed that\nit was his intention to murder his master, and then rob the house.\nThis diabolical design was frustrated solely by the unaccountable\nsagacity of the dog and his devoted attachment to his master. A\nfull-length picture of Sir Harry, with the mastiff by his side, and\nthe words, \"More faithful than favoured,\" is still preserved among the\nfamily pictures.\n\nPresentiments of approaching danger, such as those now related, are to\nbe traced only to the animal's close observation and watchful jealousy\nof disposition. Looks, signs, and movements are noticed by him which\nescape an ordinary observer. The idea that dogs have presentiments of\ndeath, and howl on such occasions, is a superstition now all but\nvanished.\n\nIn October 1800, a young man going into a place of public\nentertainment at Paris, was told that his dog (a fine mastiff) could\nnot be permitted to enter, and he was accordingly left with the guard\nat the door. The young man was scarcely entered into the lobby, when\nhis watch was stolen. He returned to the guard, and prayed that his\ndog might be admitted, as, through his means, he might discover the\nthief: the dog was suffered to accompany his master, who intimated to\nthe animal that he had lost something; the dog set out immediately in\nquest of the strayed article, and fastened on the thief, whose guilt\non searching him was made apparent: the fellow had no less than six\nwatches in his pocket, which being laid before the dog, he\ndistinguished his master's, took it up by the string, and bore it to\nhim in safety.\n\nAt the castle of a nobleman in Bohemia, a large English mastiff was\nkept, that never failed to go every Sunday to the village church. The\nother dogs in the neighbourhood used to follow him thither, so that\nthe church was often full of these animals. This being considered a\nnuisance, orders were given by the magistrates, at one of the petty\ncourts held for regulating the affairs of the village, that the\ninhabitants should be enjoined to keep all their dogs locked up every\nSunday during the time of divine service. The magistrate who presided\nin this court said, in a loud and authoritative tone of voice, \"I will\nsuffer no dogs in the church; let me not see one there in future.\" The\nmastiff happened to be lying under the table in the court when these\nwords were spoken, to which he appeared to listen with great\nattention. On the ensuing Sunday the dog rose at an early hour, ran\nfrom house to house through the village, barking at the windows, and\nat last took his station before the church-door, to see whether any of\nhis companions would venture to approach it, notwithstanding the\nprohibition. Unfortunately one of them appeared. The mastiff\nimmediately fell upon him with the utmost fury, bit him to death, and\ndragged him out into the street. He continued in the same manner for\nseveral subsequent Sundays to stand sentinel, without ever entering\nthe church.\n\nCaptain Brown gives an interesting instance of the gentleness of a\nmastiff towards a child. He says that a large and fierce mastiff,\nwhich had broken his chain, ran along a road near Bath, to the great\nterror and consternation of those whom he passed. When suddenly\nrunning by a most interesting boy, the child struck him with a stick,\nupon which the dog turned furiously on his infant assailant. The\nlittle fellow, so far from being intimidated, ran up to him, and flung\nhis arms round the neck of the enraged animal, which instantly became\nappeased, and in return caressed the child. It is a fact well known,\nthat few dogs will bite a child, or even a young puppy. Captain Brown\nadds, that he possesses a mastiff, which will not allow any one of his\nfamily to take a bone from him except his youngest child.\n\nA chimney-sweeper had ordered his dog, a mastiff crossed with a\nbull-dog, to lie down on his soot-bag, which he had placed\ninadvertently almost in the middle of a narrow back-street in the town\nof Southampton. A loaded coal-cart passing by, the driver desired the\ndog to move out of the way. On refusing to do so, he was scolded, then\nbeaten, first gently, and afterwards with a smart application of the\ncart-whip, but all to no purpose. The fellow, with an oath, threatened\nto drive over the dog, and he did so, the faithful animal endeavouring\nto arrest the progress of the wheel by biting it. He thus allowed\nhimself to be killed sooner than abandon his trust.\n\nA mastiff-dog, who owed more to the bounty of a neighbour than to his\nmaster, was once locked by mistake in the well-stored pantry of his\nbenefactor for a whole day, where milk, butter, bread, and meat,\nwithin his reach, were in abundance. On the return of the servant to\nthe pantry, seeing the dog come out, and knowing the time he had been\nconfined, she trembled for the devastation which her negligence must\nhave occasioned; but, on close examination, it was found that the\nhonest creature had not tasted of anything, although, on coming out,\nhe fell on a bone that was given to him, with all the voraciousness of\nhunger.\n\nThese dogs are alive to injuries, and not slow in resenting them.\n\nA carrier had a mastiff remarkable for his sagacity. It happened\nunfortunately one day, that one of the waggon-horses trod accidentally\nupon him in the yard. The dog became furious, and would have attacked\nthe horse had he not been prevented. It was usual for the dog to\nremain with the horses at night in the stable. After the men had\nretired, the mastiff selected out the animal which had trod upon him,\nand, no doubt, would have put an end to his existence, had not the\ncarters, who were at hand, hearing an unusual noise, come to his\nassistance.\n\nThe widow of a farmer had two mastiffs, which, from their fierceness,\nrendered some precaution necessary in approaching the house. Their\nmistress was taken suddenly ill and died, and in the afternoon of her\ndeath the benevolent wife of the clergyman of the parish called to see\nif she could render any assistance. After knocking in vain at the\nfront door, she went to the back of the house with fear and trembling.\nOn entering the kitchen, to her dismay she saw the two dogs on the\nhearth. They appeared, however, to be sensible of what had taken\nplace, for they only lifted up their heads mournfully, looked at the\nintruder, and resumed their former attitude.\n\nMy neighbour, Mr. Penrhyn, has two noble mastiffs of the Lyme breed,\nwhich I believe is now nearly extinct. It is probably, however,\npreserved by Thomas Leigh, Esq. of Lyme Park, in Cheshire, who has\nalso the wild breed of cattle, now only, I believe, found at Lyme\nPark, and at Chillington, in Yorkshire, the seat of Lord Tankerville.\nThere is a story current at Lyme Park, that some years ago a dog of\nthe breed in question, whilst walking with the steward in the park,\ntook offence at one of the wild bulls, and would instantly have\nattacked it, but was with difficulty restrained by the steward. The\ndog returned home, evidently bearing the offence in mind, and the next\nmorning, the steward, seeing him covered with blood, suspected\nsomething amiss, and on going into the park, found that not only the\nbull, but two cows had been worried by him.\n\nA mastiff belonging to a tanner had taken a great dislike to a man,\nwhose business frequently brought him to the house. Being much annoyed\nat his antipathy and fearful of the consequences, he requested the\nowner of the dog to endeavour to remove the dislike of the animal to\nhim. This he promised to do, and brought it about in the following\nmanner, by acting on the noble disposition of the dog. Watching his\nopportunity, he one day, as if by accident, pushed the dog into a well\nin the yard, in which he allowed it to struggle a considerable time.\nWhen the dog seemed to be getting tired, the tanner desired his\ncompanion to pull it out, which he did. The animal, on being\nextricated, after shaking himself, fawned upon his deliverer, as if\nsensible that he had saved his life, and never molested him again. On\nthe contrary he received him with kindness whenever they met, and\noften accompanied him a mile or two on his way home.\n\nA personal friend of the writer's, some time since, on a visit at a\ngentleman's house in the country, was taking a moonlight walk through\nthe shrubbery and pleasure-grounds, when he was startled by a noise\nbehind him; on turning his head, he perceived a large mastiff, which\nwas ordinarily let loose as evening closed, and which had tracked him\nthrough the grounds. The dog with a fierce growl roughly seized him;\nour friend wisely deemed passive obedience and non-resistance the most\nprudent if not the most courageous part for him to play, and was\nunceremoniously led back through the grounds to the hall-door; here he\nwas relieved by the master of the house. Subsequently assured that he\nhad no cause to fear, he repeated his walk; the dog was again at his\nside, but walked quietly with him, and acknowledged in the usual way\nhis words of conciliation. On these instances of sagacity (sagacity of\na kind very different from that displayed by the shepherd's dog or the\nsetter) there needs no comment.\n\nA gentleman in Ireland had a mastiff which was kept to guard his\npremises. A small dog, belonging to a poor man who came to the house\non business, had barked at and annoyed him, but he was obliged to\nsubmit to the insult at the time with sullen patience, as his chain\nprevented him from taking any immediate revenge. A few evenings\nafterwards, however, he contrived to escape from the back-yard, and\nimmediately made his way to the cabin of the cur's master. Finding the\ndoor open, _more Hibernicorum_, he entered without even a premonitory\ngrowl, to the dismay of the humble inmates, who were eating their\nsupper of potatoes and milk, seized the offender, and killed it.\n\nAnother mastiff behaved in a very different manner. He had also been\nannoyed by a little cur as he passed along the streets, which he bore\nwith great patience for a long time; at last his persecutor became so\ntroublesome that he could bear it no longer. He, therefore, one day\ncaught his contemptible adversary by the neck, carried him to the edge\nof a wharf, and dropped him gently into the water.[S]\n\nThe instinctive appreciation of the nature of property as shown in\ndogs is exemplified in the following instance:--A lady at Bath,\nwalking out one day, was impeded in her progress by a strange mastiff\ndog. She became alarmed, and at the same time perceived that she had\nlost her veil. Upon retracing her steps, the dog went on before her,\ntill the lost article was discovered; and as soon as it was picked up,\nthe animal hastened after his own master.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE BULL-DOG.]\n\nTHE BULL-DOG.\n\n    \"The heroes of a bull-fight, and the champions of a cock-fight, can\n    produce but few, if any, disciples brought up under their tuition,\n    who have done service to their country, but abundant are the\n    testimonies which have been registered at the gallows of her devoted\n    victims, trained up to the pursuits of bull-baiting.\"--DR. BARRY.\n\n\nThe bull-dog has been called the most courageous animal in the world.\nHe is low in stature, although remarkably deep-chested, strong, and\nmuscular. From the projection of his under jaw, which occasions his\nteeth always to be seen, and from his eyes being distant from each\nother, and somewhat prominent, he has an appearance which would\nprevent a stranger from attempting any familiarity with him. He is,\nhowever, a dog capable of strong attachment to his master, whom he is\nat all times ready to defend. His strength is so great, that in\npinning a bull, one of this breed of dogs has been known, by giving a\nstrong muscular twist of his body, to bring the bull flat on his side.\nIn consequence also of his strength, high courage, and perseverance, a\nbull-dog has gone a greater distance in swimming than any other dog\nhas been known to do.\n\nIt is universally known amongst the lovers of bull-dogs, that when\nonce exasperated by an opponent or encouraged by the owner, no pain or\npunishment will induce him to swerve from his purpose, or in the least\nrelax the violence of his endeavours to subdue whatever may be the\nobject of his dislike or resentment. Amidst the many instances which\nmight be adduced in support of this assertion, we shall notice one\nwhich is well-authenticated. Some years since, when bull-baiting was\nmore common than in the present improved state of civilization, a\njuvenile amateur, at an entertainment of this kind in the north of\nEngland, confident in the courage and purity of blood in his bull-dog,\nlaid a wager \"that he would at four distinct intervals deprive the\nanimal of one of his feet by amputation, and that after every\nindividual deprivation he should still attack the bull with his\nprevious ferocity; and that, lastly, he should continue to do so upon\nhis stumps.\" Shocking as the recital must prove to the feelings of\nevery reader, the experiment was made, and the dog continued to seize\nthe bull with the same eagerness as before. In a match which was made\nfor the purpose, one of these animals fought and beat two powerful\nNewfoundland dogs.\n\nIt must be a matter of congratulation to every humane person, that the\nbarbarous and cruel custom of bull-baiting no longer exists in this\ncountry. That it tended to brutalize the working classes, whatever its\nadvocates may have stated to the contrary, cannot be doubted. In the\npart of Staffordshire in which I formerly resided, and where the\ncustom was extremely prevalent, idleness, drunkenness and profligacy,\nwere conspicuous amongst those who kept bull-dogs. Even females might\nbe seen at a bull-baiting, in their working dresses as they came out\nof a factory, their arms crossed and covered with their aprons,\nstanding to enjoy the sport, if such it could be called.\n\nThe breed of dogs kept by the persons referred to was said to be of\nthe purest kind, and large sums were frequently given for them. Lord\nCamelford purchased one for eighty guineas; forty and fifty pounds was\nno uncommon price for one. These dogs would appear to have a natural\nantipathy to the bull, as puppies will attack them when only a few\nmonths old, and if permitted to continue the combat, will suffer\nthemselves to be destroyed rather than relinquish the contest. A\nwell-bred dog always attacks the bull in front, and endeavours to\nseize on the lip as the most sensitive part.\n\nA nobleman had a favourite bull-dog, which was his constant companion\nin his carriage to and from his seat in Scotland for many years. The\ndog was strongly attached to his master, and was gentle and\ninoffensive. As he grew old, it was determined to leave him in London.\nThe carriage came to the door, his master entered it, and drove\noff, taking another dog for his companion. The packing--the\npreparations--had all been witnessed by the faithful bull-dog, who was\nevidently aware that he had been deserted by the only being he loved.\nFrom that moment he became melancholy. He refused to eat, and\nnotwithstanding all the care taken of him, he pined and died.\n\nA bull-dog, not many years since, saved a shipwrecked crew by towing a\nrope from the vessel to the shore, after two fine Newfoundland dogs\nhad perished in the attempt. This success may be attributed to his\nindomitable courage, which prevented him from giving up his exertions\nwhile life remained.\n\nI remember many years ago hearing of some robberies, which took place\nby means of a bull-dog in the neighbourhood of London, one of which\nwas near my own residence. A gentleman in riding home one winter's\nevening, had one of the hocks of his horse seized, as he was trotting\nalong the road, by a bull-dog, who kept his hold, and brought the\nhorse to the ground. A man then came up, and robbed the gentleman of\nhis purse.\n\nIt was common in Staffordshire, before young dogs were able to cope\nwith a bull, to practise them with a man, who stood proxy for the\nbull. On one occasion of this sort, Mr. _Deputy_ Bull being properly\nstaked, began to perform his part by snorting and roaring lustily. The\ndog ran at him, but was repulsed,--the courage of the animal, however,\nincreased with every struggle, and at last he seized his biped\nantagonist by the cheek, who, with rueful countenance, endured it for\nsome time, till at length he was compelled to cry out to his companion\nto take the dog off; but he, unwilling to damp the courage of his\n_eleve_, vociferated, \"_Woot_ spoil the pup, _mun_?--let 'em taste\n_bloode_ first!\"\n\nBull-dogs are now much less common than they were. A cross breed\nbetween them and a good terrier is said to produce better fighters and\nharder biters than the pure bull-dog. If one of these dogs is crossed\nwith a greyhound, the offspring is found to be too courageous, and\nfrom this cause in attacking deer they have been frequently killed.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE DALMATIAN OR COACH-DOG.\n\n\nThis dog, says Mr. Bewick, has been erroneously called the Danish dog\nby some authors, and by Buffon the harrier of Bengal; but his native\ncountry is Dalmatia, a mountainous district on the Adriatic coast. He\nhas been domesticated in Italy for upwards of two centuries, and is\nthe common harrier of that country.\n\nThe Dalmatian is also used there as a pointer, to which his natural\npropensity more inclines him than to be a dog of the chase: he is said\nto be easily broken, and to be very staunch. He is handsome in shape,\nsomething between the British foxhound and English pointer; his head\nmore acute than that of the latter, and something longer: his general\ncolour white, and his whole body and legs covered with small\nirregular-sized black or reddish-brown spots. The pure breed has\ntanned cheeks and black ears. He is much smaller than the large Danish\ndog. A singular opinion prevailed at one time in this country, that\nthis beautiful dog was rendered more handsome by having his ears\ncropped: this barbarous fancy is now fast dying away.\n\nThe only use to which this elegant dog is applied is as an attendant\nupon a carriage, for which the symmetry of his form and beauty of his\nskin peculiarly fit him. He familiarises readily with horses, and is\ntherefore invariably entrusted to the stables. A most erroneous notion\nhas long prevailed that neither this nor the great Danish dog has the\nsense of smell. They have been indiscriminately called the Coach-dog.\n\nMr. Dibdin, in his \"Tour through England,\" says, \"I took with me last\nsummer one of those spotted dogs called Danish, but the breed is\nDalmatian. It was impossible for anything to be more sportive, yet\nmore inoffensive, than this dog. Throughout the mountainous parts of\nCumberland and Scotland his delight was to chase the sheep, which he\nwould follow with great alertness even to the summits of the most\nrugged steeps; and when he had frightened them, and made them scamper\nto his satisfaction (for he never attempted to injure them), he\nconstantly came back wagging his tail, and appearing very happy at\nthose caresses which we, perhaps absurdly, bestowed upon him.\n\n\"About seven miles on this side of Kinross, in the way from Stirling,\nhe had been amusing himself playing these pranks, the sheep flying\nfrom him in all directions, when a black lamb turned upon him, and\nlooked him full in the face; he seemed astonished for an instant, but\nbefore he could rally his resolution, the lamb began to paw and play\nwith him. It is impossible to describe the effect this had upon him;\nhis tail was between his legs, he appeared in the utmost dread, and\nslunk away confused and distressed: presently his new acquaintance\ninvited him, by all manner of gambols, to be friendly with him. What a\nmoment for Pythagoras or Lavater! Gradually overcoming his fears, he\naccepted this brotherly challenge, and they raced away together, and\nrolled over one another like two kittens. Presently appeared another\nobject of distress. The shepherd's boy came to reclaim his lamb; but\nit paid no attention except to the dog, and they were presently at a\nconsiderable distance. We slackened our pace for the convenience of\nthe boy, but nothing would do; we could no more call off the dog than\nhe could catch the lamb. They continued sporting in this manner for\nmore than a mile and a half. At length, having taken a circuit, they\nwere in our rear; and after we had crossed a small bridge, the boy\nwith his pole kept the lamb at bay, and at length caught him; and\nhaving tied his plaid round him, it was impossible for him to escape.\nOut of fear of the boy, and in obedience to us, the dog followed\nreluctantly; but the situation of the lamb all this time cannot be\npictured; he made every possible attempt to escape from the boy, even\nat the risk of tumbling into the river, rather than not follow the\ndog. This continued till the prospect closed, and we had lost sight of\nour new ally, whose unexpected offer of amity to the Dalmatian seemed\never after to operate as a friendly admonition, for from that day he\nwas cured of following sheep.\"\n\nLord Maynard, some years since, lost a coach-dog in France, which he\nin vain endeavoured to find. He returned to England, where he had not\nlong arrived before the dog appeared; but the mode of his return\nremained for ever unexplained, though it is more than probable that\nthe dog's sagacity, when he had made his escape from confinement,\nprompted him to go to the sea-coast, where he found means to get on\nboard some vessel bound for the opposite shore.\n\nThe late Mr. Thomas Walker, of Manchester, had a small Dalmatian dog,\nwhich was accustomed to be in the stable with two of his\ncarriage-horses, and to lie in a stall with one of them, to which he\nwas particularly attached. The servant who took care of the horses was\nordered to go to Stockport (which is distant about seven miles), upon\none of the horses, and took the one above mentioned (the favourite of\nthe dog), with him, and left the other with the dog in the stable;\nbeing apprehensive lest the dog, which was much valued by his master,\nshould be lost upon the road. After the man and horse had been gone\nabout an hour, some person coming accidentally into the stable, the\ndog took the opportunity of quitting his confinement, and immediately\nset off in quest of his companion. The man, who had finished the\nbusiness he was sent upon, was just leaving Stockport, when he was\nsurprised to meet the dog he had left in the stable, coming with great\nspeed down the hill into the town, and seemed greatly rejoiced to meet\nwith his friendly companion, whom he had followed so far by scent. The\nfriendship between these animals was reciprocal; for the servant,\ngoing one day to water the carriage-horses at a large stone trough,\nwhich was then at one end of the exchange, the dog as usual\naccompanying them, was attacked by a large mastiff, and in danger of\nbeing much worried, when the horse (his friend), which was led by the\nservant with a halter, suddenly broke loose from him, and went to the\nplace where the dogs were fighting, and with a kick of one of his\nheels struck the mastiff from the other dog clean into a cooper's\ncellar opposite; and having thus rescued his companion, returned\nquietly with him to drink at the conduit.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREAT DANISH DOG.\n\n\nBuffon was of opinion that this variety, which is chiefly found in\nDenmark, Russia, and Northern Germany, is only the Matin (the usual\nsheep-dog of France) transported into a northern latitude. The colour\nof this dog is generally white, marked all over his body with black\nspots and patches, in general larger than those of the Dalmatian, of\nwhich some have supposed him to be a congener. His ears are for the\nmost part white, while those of the Dalmatian are usually black.\n\nThe great Danish dog is a fine sprightly animal, but is of little use\neither for sporting or watching. Like the Dalmatian, he is chiefly\nused in this country as an attendant on carriages, to which he forms\nan elegant appendage.\n\nMr. Johnson, a traveller from Manchester, on his route through\nScotland on horseback, was benighted, and coming to a small\npublic-house on the road, he thought it better to take up his\nlodgings there, if possible, than to proceed further that night. On\nentering the house, he found only an old woman, who, to his inquiries,\nanswered she would accommodate him with a bed, and provide for the\nhorse in a small shed, if he would assist her in carrying hay and\nlitter, as there was no other person then in the house. This was\nreadily agreed to by Mr. Johnson, who, after having done so, and taken\na little refreshment, was shown by the old woman to his bedroom.\n\nA large Danish dog, which accompanied him on his journey, offered to\ngo up to the room with him, which the old woman strongly objected to,\nbut Mr. Johnson firmly persisted in having him admitted. The dog, on\nentering the room, began to growl, and was altogether very unruly. His\nmaster in vain attempted to quiet him,--he kept growling and looking\nangrily under the bed, which induced Mr. Johnson to look there\nlikewise, when, to his utter astonishment, he saw a man concealed at\nthe farther end. On encouraging the dog, he sprang immediately at him,\nwhilst Mr. Johnson seized his pistols, and presenting one at the\nstranger, who had a large knife in his hand, and was struggling with\nthe dog, declared he would instantly shoot him if he made further\nresistance. The man then submitted to be bound, and acknowledged that\nhis intention was to rob and murder Mr. Johnson, which was thus\nprovidentially prevented by the wonderful sagacity of his faithful\ndog. Mr. Johnson, after securely binding the man and fastening the\ndoor, went (accompanied by his dog) to the shed where his horse was\nleft, which he instantly mounted, and escaped without injury to the\nnext town, where he gave to a magistrate a full account of the\nmurderous attempt, and the culprit was taken into custody and\nafterwards executed.\n\nA gamekeeper belonging to the castle of Holstein (in Denmark),\nreturned one evening from a long and fatiguing chase, and deposited\nthe game in the larder, without being aware that he had locked up his\ndog at the same time. Business of importance unexpectedly called him\naway immediately afterwards, and he did not return for five days;\nwhen, mindful of his game, he went to the larder, and beheld his dog\nstretched dead at the door. The gamekeeper stood extremely affected;\nbut what were his sensations, when he saw on the table eleven brace of\npartridges, and five grouse untouched! This admiration increased his\ngrief, when he found the poor dog had suffered starvation rather than\ntransgress his duty.\n\nAt a convent in France, twenty paupers were served with a dinner at a\ncertain hour every day. A matin dog belonging to the convent did not\nfail to be regularly present at this repast, to receive the scraps\nwhich were now and then thrown to him. The guests, however, were poor\nand hungry, and of course not very wasteful, so that their pensioner\ndid little more than scent the feast, of which he would fain have\npartaken. The portions were served by a person at the ringing of a\nbell, and delivered out by means of what in religious houses is termed\na _tour_--a machine like the section of a cask, that, by turning round\non a pivot, exhibits whatever is placed on the concave side, without\ndiscovering the person who moves it. One day this dog, who had only\nreceived a few scraps, waited till the paupers were all gone, took the\nrope in his mouth, and rang the bell. His stratagem succeeded. He\nrepeated it the next day with the same good fortune. At length the\ncook, finding that twenty-one portions were given out instead of\ntwenty, was determined to discover the culprit. In doing which he had\nno great difficulty; for, lying in wait, and noticing the paupers as\nthey came for their different portions, and that there was no intruder\nexcept the dog, he began to suspect the truth; which he was confirmed\nin when he saw the animal continue with great deliberation till the\nvisitors were all gone, and then pull the bell. The matter was related\nto the community; and to reward him for his ingenuity, the dog was\npermitted to ring the bell every day for his dinner, on which a mess\nof broken victuals was always afterwards served out to him.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CUR DOG.\n\n\nAlmost every dog which is cross-bred is ranked as a cur dog or\nmongrel, but that which is specially described by Youatt, is the\nshepherd's dog crossed with the terrier, and is nearly smooth; but he\nis considerably longer in the legs in proportion to the size of his\nbody, is stronger in the make, has half-pricked ears, is generally\nblack and white, although sometimes all black, and has rather a short\ntail. In the north of England and southern counties of Scotland great\nattention is paid to the breeding of this dog, and to breaking him in\nfor driving and tending cattle, which he does with great intelligence;\nindeed his sagacity in everything is uncommonly great, and he is very\ntrusty. These dogs bite very keenly, and always make their attack at\nthe heels of cattle, who, on this account, having no defence against\nthem, are quickly compelled to run.\n\nThe cur has long and somewhat deservedly obtained a very bad name as a\nbully and a coward; and certainly his habit of barking at everything\nthat passes, and flying at the heels of the horse, renders him often a\nvery dangerous nuisance. He is, however, valuable to the cottager; he\nis a faithful defender of his humble dwelling; no bribe can seduce him\nfrom his duty; and he is a useful and an effectual guard over the\nclothes and scanty provisions of the labourer, who may be working in\nsome distant part of the field. All day long he will lie upon his\nmaster's clothes seemingly asleep, but giving immediate warning of the\napproach of a supposed marauder. He has a propensity, when at home, to\nfly at every horse and every strange dog; and of young game of every\nkind there is not a more ruthless destroyer than the village cur.\n\nThe following story is strictly authentic:--\"Not long ago a young man,\nan acquaintance of Lord Fife's coachman, was walking, as he had often\ndone, in his lordship's stables at Banff. Taking an opportunity when\nthe servants were not regarding him, he put a bridle into his pocket.\nA Highland cur that was generally about the stables observed the\ntheft, and immediately began to bark at him; and when he got to the\nstable door would not let him pass, but held him fiercely by the leg\nto prevent him. As the servants had never seen the dog act thus\nbefore, and the same young man had been often with them, they could\nnot imagine what could be the reason of the dog's conduct. However,\nwhen they perceived the end of a valuable bridle peeping out of the\nyoung man's pocket they were able to account for it, and on his giving\nit up the dog let go his hold and allowed him to pass.\"\n\n\"I recollect,\" says Mr. Hall, \"when I passed some time at the Viscount\nArbuthnot's at Hatton, in the parish of Marykirk, one of his\nlordship's estates, that when the field-servants went out one morning\nthey found a man whom they knew, and who lived a few miles' distance,\nlying on the road a short way from the stable with a number of\nbridles, girths, &c. &c. near him, and the house-dog, which was of the\nHighland breed, lying also at his ease, holding the seat of the man's\nbreeches in his mouth. The man confessed his crime, and told them that\nthe log had struggled with him, and held him in that position for\nfive hours; but that immediately after the servants came up he let go\nhis hold.\"\n\nThe following anecdote is well known. In London, a few years since, a\nbox, properly directed, was sent to a merchant's shop to lie there all\nnight, and be shipped off with other goods next morning. A dog, which\naccidentally came into the shop with a customer, by smelling the box,\nand repeatedly barking in a peculiar way, led to the discovery that it\ndid not contain goods, but a fellow who intended to admit his\ncompanions and plunder the shop in the night-time.\n\nJohn Lang, Esq., deputy-sheriff of Selkirk, had a female cur big with\npups, which on one occasion, when out in the fields attending the\ncattle, was taken in travail, and pupped on the moor. She concealed\nher litter in a whin-bush, brought the cattle home at the usual time\nwith the utmost care, and, having delivered her charge, returned to\nthe moor and brought home the puppies one by one. Mr. Lang, with that\nhumanity which marks his character, preserved the whole litter, that\nhe might not give the least cause of pain to so faithful and so\naffectionate an animal.\n\nIn Lambeth Church there is a painting of a man with a dog on one of\nthe windows. In reference to this, we learn by tradition that a piece\nof ground near Westminster Bridge, containing one acre and nineteen\nroods (named Pedlar's Acre), was left to this parish by a pedlar, upon\ncondition that his picture, and that of the dog, should be\nperpetually preserved on painted glass on one of the windows of the\nchurch, which the parishioners have carefully performed. The time of\nthis gift was in 1504, when the ground was let at 2_s._ 8_d._ per\nannum; but in the year 1762 it was let on lease at 100_l._ per year,\nand a fine of 800_l._; and is now worth more than 250_l._ yearly. The\nreason alleged for the pedlar's request is, that being very poor, and\npassing the aforementioned piece of ground, he could by no means get\nhis dog away, which kept scratching a particular spot of earth, until\nhe attracted his master's notice; who going back to examine the cause,\nand pressing with his stick, found something hard, which, on a nearer\ninspection, proved to be a pot of gold. With part of this money he\npurchased the land, and settled in the parish; to which he bequeathed\nit on the conditions aforesaid.\n\n\"It was with pleasure,\" observes Mr. Taylor, in his \"General Character\nof the Dog,\" \"that I watched the motions of a grateful animal\nbelonging to one of the workmen employed at Portsmouth dockyard. This\nman had a large cur dog, who regularly every day brought him his\ndinner upwards of a mile. When his wife had prepared the repast, she\ntied it up in a cloth, and put it in a hand-basket; then calling\nTrusty (for so he was properly named), desired him to be expeditious,\nand carry his master's dinner, and be sure not to stop by the way. The\ndog, who perfectly well understood his orders, immediately obeyed, by\ntaking the handle of the basket in his mouth, and began his journey.\nIt was laughable to observe that, when tired by the way, he would very\ncautiously set the basket on the ground; but by no means would suffer\nany person to come near it. When he had sufficiently rested himself,\nhe again took up his load, and proceeded forward until he came to the\ndock gates. Here he was frequently obliged to stop, and wait with\npatience until the porter, or some other person, opened the door. His\njoy was then visible to every one. His pace increased; and with\nwagging tail, expressive of his pleasure, he ran to his master with\nthe refreshment. The caresses were then mutual; and after receiving\nhis morsel as a recompense for his fidelity, he was ordered home with\nthe empty basket and plates, which he carried back with the greatest\nprecision, to the high diversion of all spectators.\"\n\nSome years since, a distiller, who lived at Chelsea, in Middlesex, had\na middle-sized brown cur dog, crossed with the spaniel, which had\nreceived so complete an education from the porter, that he was\nconsidered a very valuable acquisition. This porter used generally to\ncarry out the liquors to the neighbouring customers in small casks,\ntied up in a coarse bag, or put in a barrow; and whenever the man\nthought proper to refresh himself (which was frequently the case), he\nwould stop the barrow, and calling Basto (which was the dog's name),\nin a very peremptory manner bid him mind the bag; and away he went to\ndrink; and frequently left the barrow in the middle of the street.\nBasto always rested near his trust, and sometimes apparently asleep;\nwhich induced many idle people, who, seeing a bag in the road without\nan owner, to attempt stealing the same. But no sooner had they\nendeavoured to decamp with the prize, than this vigilant creature flew\nat them with such outrage, as obliged them immediately to relinquish\nthe undertaking; and glad were they to escape with a few bites and\nwhole bones, and leave the tempting bait to catch other dishonest\nrogues, as it had done them.\n\nOne day, a person having particular business with the master, which\nrequired dispatch, went to the distillery adjoining the\ndwelling-house, thinking it very likely he might meet him there giving\norders to the servant; and finding the outward door open, walked into\nthe still-room: but no sooner had he gone a few steps than a fierce\ngrowl assailed his ears, and almost imperceptibly he was pinioned by\nfear to the wall. The affrighted person called loudly for help; but\nthe family being at the other part of the house, his cries were\nfruitless. The generous animal, however, who had the frightened man\nclose in custody, scorned to take a mean advantage of his situation by\nrecommencing hostilities. He remained perfectly quiet, unless the\ndelinquent attempted to stir--he then became as furious as ever; so\nthat the prisoner prudently remained like a statue fixed against the\nwall, while Basto, like a sentinel on his post, kept a strict guard,\nlest he should escape before the family arrived. In about twenty\nminutes the master, in coming from the parlour to the counting-house,\nbeheld the prisoner, and Basto walking backwards and forwards beside\nhim. The dog, by a thousand gesticulations, seemed to wish a proper\nexplanation might take place. The master laughed heartily at the poor\nfellow's expense, as did he likewise when liberated; but he had ever\nafter the prudence, when business brought him to the house, to ring\nloudly at the door, notwithstanding it frequently stood wide open.\n\nA carrier on his way to Dumfries had occasion to leave his cart and\nhorse upon the public road, under the protection of a passenger and\nhis dog Trusty. Upon his return, he missed a led horse belonging to a\ngentleman in the neighbourhood, which he had tied to the end of a\ncart, and likewise one of the female passengers. On inquiry he was\ninformed that, during his absence, the female, who had been anxious to\ntry the mettle of the pony, had mounted it, and that the animal had\nset off at full speed. The carrier expressed much anxiety for the\nsafety of the young woman, casting at the same time an expressive look\nat his dog. Trusty observed his master's eye, and aware of its\nmeaning, instantly set off in pursuit of the pony, which he came up\nwith soon after he had passed the first toll-bar on the Dalbeattie\nroad; when he made a sudden spring, seized the bridle, and held the\nanimal fast. Several people having observed the circumstance, and the\nperilous situation of the girl, came to her relief. The dog, however,\nnotwithstanding their repeated endeavours, would not quit his hold of\nthe bridle; and the pony was actually led into the stable with the\ndog, till such time as the carrier should arrive. Upon the carrier\nentering the stable, Trusty wagged his tail in token of satisfaction,\nand immediately relinquished the bridle to his master.\n\nA short time ago a large cur, belonging to a gentleman at Richmond, in\nYorkshire, accidentally fell into a well, and for the moment he gave\nhim up as lost. But as a sort of desperate effort to save the dog, he\ndirected a boy to let down a rope he had into the well, in the hope\nthat possibly it might catch around his leg or neck. No sooner,\nhowever, did the rope come within reach, than the dog seized it with\nhis teeth, and the parties above finding it had secured him, began to\ndraw up; when, about half-way up, he lost his hold and fell back.\nAgain the rope was let down, and again the dog seized it, and he was\ndrawn nearly to the mouth of the well; when his bite gave way, and the\nthird time he fell into the water. Once more the rope was let down,\nand this time the dog took so thorough a hold, that he was brought\ntriumphantly up; and when set down in safety, shook the water from his\nhair, and wagged his tail, apparently as proud of the exploit as the\nother parties were gratified with it.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LURCHER.\n\n\nThis variety is smaller than the greyhound, with its limbs stronger\nand shorter, the head less acute, with short, erect, and half-pricked\nears: the whole body and tail are covered with rough coarse hair; it\nis grizzly about the muzzle, of a pale sand-colour, or iron-grey, and\nof sullen aspect.\n\nThe lurcher is supposed to have been originally a cross between the\ngreyhound and the shepherd's dog, re-crossed with the terrier; hence\nthe quickness of his scent, his speed, and intelligence. The habits of\nthis dog lead him to concealment and cunning, and he is seldom found\nin the possession of honourable sportsmen. He is often employed by\npoachers in killing hares and rabbits in the obscurity of night; and\nwhen taken to the warren, he lies squat, or steals out with the utmost\nprecaution, and on seeing or scenting the rabbits, darts upon them\nwith exceeding quickness or runs them down at a stretch, without\nbarking or making the least noise. He is trained to bring the booty to\nhis master, who often waits at some distance to receive it. One of\nthese dogs will kill a great many rabbits in the course of a night.\nCol. Hamilton Smyth says, \"The lurcher occasionally makes great havoc\namong sheep and deer, and acquires the wild scent of game. Sometimes\nthese dogs become feral, when their owners happen to be captured and\nimprisoned. They have been regularly hunted with hounds, but seldom\ndestroyed, because when the chase came up with them, the pack seemed\nto be surprised at finding that it was only a dog they had followed.\nAt other times, however, when a lurcher had snapped up, or attacked\nthe game the pack was hunting, the dogs on coming up have torn him to\npieces, as if he had been a wild beast.\"\n\nBewick says that in his time this breed was so destructive that it was\nproscribed, and is now almost extinct. \"I have seen a dog and bitch of\nthis kind,\" he observes, \"in the possession of a man who had formerly\nused them for the purpose above described. He declared, that by their\nmeans he could procure in an evening as many rabbits as he could carry\nhome.\"\n\n\"In the year 1809,\" says Capt. Brown, \"I resided for some time on Holy\nIsland, coast of Northumberland, and had occasion one day to be in\nBerwick at an early hour. I left the island on horseback at low-water,\nby moonlight. When I reached Goswick-warren, I came upon two men\nsitting by the side of a turf-dyke. I spoke to them; and while I was\nin the act of doing so, a dog of this breed approached with a rabbit\nin his mouth, which he laid down and scampered off. Being convinced\nthey were engaged in rabbit-stealing, I entered into conversation\nrespecting the qualities of their dogs, which I was anxious to learn;\nand upon my declaring that I was a stranger, and that I would not\ndivulge their delinquency, they readily gave me a detail of them.\nThey had scarcely commenced when another dog made his appearance with\na rabbit, and laid it down, but did not, like his companion, make off\nwhen he had done so. One of the men said to him, 'Go off, sir,' when\nhe immediately left them; and he told me he was a young dog, little\nmore than a year old. They informed me, that such was the keenness of\nthe older dog, and another which had shortly before died, for hunting\nrabbits and hares, that they would frequently go out of their own\naccord, when it was inconvenient for their owners to attend them, and\nthat they invariably fetched in a hare or rabbit. Indeed, their ardour\nwas such, that they would sometimes go to a rabbit-warren, at a\ndistance of eight miles from their dwelling, in pursuit of game; in\nconsequence of which it became necessary for their masters to chain\nthem every night when they did not accompany them in this pursuit. The\ndogs never attempted to leave home during the day, for which reason\nthey were allowed to go at full liberty. When the men intended on an\nevening to hunt rabbits, they threw down the sacks in which they\ncarried their booty in a corner of their house, when the dogs lay down\nbeside them, and would not stir till their masters took them up. These\ndogs scarcely ever barked, except on the way either to or from this\nplunder; on which occasions they always preceded their owners about\nfifty yards. If they met any person coming, they invariably made a\nnoise, but never were known to bite any one. I asked them if this was\nan instinctive property, and they informed me they were trained to it.\nAs they found it necessary in various places to leave the highway to\navoid villages, their dogs never failed to quit the road at the very\nplaces where they usually deviated, although at that distance before\nthem. Sometimes one of the dogs would return back to the party while\non the road, and wag his tail, but they seldom or never did so\ntogether; and if he showed a desire to remain by his master, the\nlatter had only to say, 'Go on, sir,' when he set off at full speed to\nhis post as one of the advanced guard. During the time I was\nconversing with them these dogs brought in seven rabbits.\"\n\nThe following curious relation, in which a lurcher signalised himself\ncharacteristically but fatally, we had from a sporting clergyman of\none of the midland counties. A gentleman kept a pack of\nfive-and-twenty couple of good hounds, among which were some of the\nhighest-bred modern foxhounds, and some as near to the old bloodhound\nas could be procured. They were high-fed and underworked; of course,\nsomewhat riotous. One day, after a sharp run of considerable length,\nin which the whole field, huntsman, whipper-in, and all, were suddenly\nthrown out, Reynard, in running up a hedgerow, was espied by a\nlurcher, accompanying the farmer his master. The dog instantly ran at\nthe chase; and being fresh, chopped upon it as he would have done upon\na rabbit or hare. The fox turned and fought bravely; and whilst the\nfarmer was contemplating with astonishment this singular combat, he\nwas destined to behold a spectacle still more remarkable. The hounds\narrived in full cry, and with indiscriminate fury tore both the\ncombatants to pieces; the whipper-in, and the proprietor of the pack,\nand two or three gentlemen the best mounted, arriving in time to whip\nthe dogs off, obtain the brush, and pick up some scattered remnants of\nthe limbs and carcase of the poor lurcher.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BAN DOG.\n\n\nThis variety, which seems almost extinct, is lighter, smaller, and\nmore active than the mastiff, from which he is descended by a cross\nwith the foxhound. He is not nearly so powerful a dog as the former,\nbut is more fierce in his natural disposition; and from his descent\npossesses a finer sense of smelling. His hair is rougher, generally of\na yellowish or sandy grey, streaked with shades of black, or brown,\nand semi-curled over his whole body, excepting his legs, which are\nsmooth. Although he generally attacks his adversary in front, like the\nmastiff and bull-dog, it is not his invariable practice, for, he is\nsometimes seen to seize cattle by the flank. His bite, says Bewick, is\nkeen and dangerous.\n\nTwo near neighbours in the county of Suffolk, a tanner and a farmer,\nentertained great friendship for each other, and kept up a close\nintimacy by frequent visits. The tanner had a large ban-dog for\nwatching his yard, which, from some unknown cause, had conceived such\nan inveterate hatred to the farmer, that he could not go with safety\nto call on his friend when the dog was loose, and on this account the\ntanner loaded him with a heavy clog, that he might not be able to fly\nat him.\n\nAs the farmer and one of his ploughmen were going about the grounds\ntogether one day, the latter espied at a distance something on a\nstile. As they drew near, they perceived it was the tanner's dog,\nwhich, in attempting to leap the wall, had left the clog on the other\nside, and was thereby almost strangled. The ploughman, knowing the\nenmity which the dog had to his master, proposed to despatch him by\nknocking him on the head; but the latter was unwilling to kill a\ncreature which he knew was useful to his friend. Instead of doing so,\nhe disengaged the poor beast, laid him down on the grass, watched till\nhe saw him recover so completely as to be able to get up on his legs,\nand then pursued his walk. When the farmer returned to the stile, he\nsaw the dog standing by it, quite recovered, and expected an attack;\nbut, to his great astonishment, the creature fawned upon him, and\nexpressed his gratitude in the most lively manner; and from that time\nto the day of his death he attached himself to his benefactor, and\nnever could be prevailed upon to go back to his former master.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: FEEDING HOUNDS.]\n\nON THE FEEDING AND MANAGEMENT OF DOGS.\n\n_Gathered from various authorities by H. G. Bohn._\n\n\nA few words may not be out of place here on the feeding and management\nof dogs. For all else which concerns Canine Science the reader cannot\ndo better than consult, among modern works, \"Youatt on the Dog,\"\n\"Blaine's Canine Pathology,\" the article \"Dog\" in the Encyclopaedia\nBritannica or Penny Cyclopaedia, \"Hutchinson on Dog-Breaking,\"\n\"Radcliffe on Fox-Hunting,\" \"Mayhew on the Dog,\" or, \"Colonel Hamilton\nSmith on Dogs,\" forming two of the vols. of Jardine's Naturalists'\nLibrary.\n\nThe natural food of the dog is flesh, and it is found that those in a\nwild state prefer it to every other kind of nutriment, but as raw meat\nengenders ferocity, it should not be given too freely, especially to\nhouse-dogs and such as are not actively exercised. The dog can subsist\non many kinds of food, and it is a curious fact, that when fed\nentirely on flesh he will sometimes get lean; because, as has been\nwell observed, it is not on what animals eat that they thrive, but on\nwhat they digest. The diet of sporting dogs in full work should, it is\nsaid by some, consist of at least two-thirds of flesh, with a\njudicious mixture of farinaceous vegetables; but there is great\ndiversity of opinion on this subject, and in France they are fed\nalmost exclusively on soaked bread. Dogs, it is generally said, should\nhave free access to fresh water, and the pans be cleaned out daily;\nbut some feeders, we are told, and it seems strange, limit the supply\nof water, and substitute moistened food. A piece of rock brimstone\nkept in the pan will be found useful.\n\nAlthough the dog is naturally a voracious animal, he can endure hunger\nfor a very great length of time, and be brought by habit to subsist on\na very scanty meal. In the Memoirs of the Academy of Sciences it is\nstated, that a bitch which was forgotten in a country-house, where she\nhad access to no other nourishment, lived forty days on the wool of an\nold mattress which she had torn to pieces and digested.\n\nAn extraordinary instance of a similar kind occurred with a terrier\nbitch, named Gipsy. One day, when following her master through a\ngrass-park near Gilmerton, it happened that she started a hare. During\nthe pursuit her master suddenly lost sight of her, and in a few days\nshe was considered either killed or lost. Six weeks afterwards a\nperson happening to look down an old coal-pit, was surprised to hear a\ndog howling. He lost no time in returning to the village, and having\nprocured a hand-basket, let it down by a rope into the shaft; the dog\nimmediately leapt into it, and on being brought to the surface, proved\nto be Gipsy, worn to perfect skin and bone. How she had existed in\nthis subterranean abode, and what she had found to support her there,\nit is impossible to tell.\n\nStag-hounds, fox-hounds, harriers, and beagles, are generally fed on\noatmeal,--some add well-boiled flesh to it once in two days,--and the\nolder the meal is the better. Store sufficient for twelve or eighteen\nmonths' consumption ought, therefore, always to be kept by those who\nhave a pack; and before used should be well dried, and broken into\ngrits, but not too fine. It is best kept in bins in a granary, well\ntrodden down. Some persons are in the habit of using barleymeal\nunprepared, but this is thought by many to be less nutritious. Others\nare of opinion that oatmeal and barleymeal in equal proportions form a\npreferable food. In either case the meal should be made into porridge,\nwith the addition of a little milk, and occasionally the kitchen\noffal, such as remnants of butchers' meat, broth, and soups, the\nraspings and refuse of bakers' shops, or hard, coarse, sea-biscuit\n(sold as dog-biscuit), well soaked and boiled with bullocks' liver or\nhorseflesh.\n\nWell-boiled greens--or mangel-wurzel boiled to a jelly--are an\nexcellent addition to the food of all dogs, and may be given twice\na-week; but they ought to be discontinued during the shooting-season\nwith pointers, setters, cockers, and greyhounds; and also during the\nhunting season with foxhounds, harriers, and beagles, as they are apt\nto render the bowels too open for hard work.\n\nFlesh for dogs should be first thoroughly boiled and then taken out\nbefore the oatmeal is added to the broth, and left to cool. Indeed,\nsome feeders think that the food of a dog should always be perfectly\ncold. At any rate, care must be taken not to serve it out \"too hot,\"\nalthough, in general, dogs are sagacious enough not to scald\nthemselves, as we see in Landseer's exquisite little picture on the\nopposite page.\n\nDogs which are hard worked are by some said to be the better for\nhaving two meals a-day--a very light one of mixed food in the morning\nbefore going out, and a full meal, principally of flesh, on their\nreturn in the evening; but, as a general rule, one good meal a day,\ntowards the evening, is sufficient, and they may be left to pick up\nwhat they can: indeed the dealers never give more than one meal a-day.\nBones to pick may be allowed them occasionally, but hard bones in\nexcess are likely to wear and damage the teeth. Nothing is better than\npaunch, tripe, or good wholesome horse or cow-flesh, boiled, and the\nliquor mixed well with oatmeal porridge; the quantity of each about\nequal. If horse or cow-flesh is not to be had, graves, in moderate\nquantity and well scalded, are a tolerable, though not very desirable,\nsubstitute. They are generally broken small, mixed with about one-half\nthe quantity of oatmeal, then thoroughly soaked in boiling water, and\nwell stirred; or, a better way still is to boil them together like\nporridge.\n\nDogs, like men, require a change of food, and it has been strongly\nasserted that barleymeal and oatmeal, without change, predisposes to\ncutaneous disease, and even produces it; therefore, a judicious\nfeeder, like a good cook, will contrive to vary his bill of fare.\nPorridge and milk, dog-biscuit, farinaceous food, the scraps of the\nkitchen, the offal of bullocks or sheep, which should be well boiled,\nmake an excellent variety;--but we would by no means recommend too\nfrequent a repetition of the latter food. Potatoes are also good, and\nalthough not so nutritious, or easy of digestion, as oatmeal, are less\nheating.\n\nCare should be taken never to present more to a dog than he will eat\nwith a good appetite; and when oatmeal and barleymeal are given mixed,\nthe former should first be boiled for twenty minutes, and then the\nlatter added, and boiled only for about eight or ten minutes. This\nmeal should, however, never be given in the hunting season, as it is\ntoo heating, and occasions the dogs to be perpetually drinking. Their\nfood ought, as a general rule, to be given to them pretty thick, as\nthin porridge does not stay the stomach so well. The feeding-troughs\nfor hounds should be sufficiently wide at the bottom and carefully\ncleaned out and scalded with hot water every second day.\n\nDuring the hunting season hounds should have sulphur mixed up with\ntheir mess once a-week, in the proportion of 3 drachms to each. At the\nend of the season the same quantity of sulphur should be given, with\nthe addition of 11/2 drachms of antimony. After a hard day's work a meal\nof horse-flesh may be given them, as fresh-killed as possible, or\nbullocks' paunches or sheeps' trotters, all of which should be well\nboiled.\n\n_Greyhounds_ should be fed principally on animal food, such as sheeps'\ntrotters or neats' feet, boiled or stewed down and mixed with bread,\nand given moderately in the morning and afternoon, (the dog never\nbeing allowed on any occasion to eat a great quantity at once,) or on\nother hand meat, as it will enlarge and strengthen the muscular fibre\nwithout increasing the cellular tissue and adipose substance, which\nhas an invariable tendency to affect their breathing. The butchers'\nmeat should be of the best quality, and not over-fat, as greasy\nsubstances of all kinds are apt to render the body gross and the skin\ndiseased. After they have been coursed they should be well brushed, a\nlittle oil being used in the operation.\n\nThe kennels of greyhounds should be kept comfortably warm and dry, be\nfrequently replenished with dry and clean straw, and properly\nventilated. Indeed, nothing is more essential to the health and\nefficiency of all dogs than pure air and cleanliness. Their beds\nshould, if possible, be placed on a wooden bench, or at least on some\ndry position. On attention to cleanliness depends, in some degree, the\ndog's exquisite sense of smelling; for, if accustomed to strong or\ndisagreeable effluvia, he will be but ill-adapted to trace the fall of\na deer, or scent of a fox. Indeed, even animal food too freely given\nis said to have a prejudicial effect upon the nose of a sporting dog.\n\nA dog employed in watching premises should not be needlessly exposed\nto the damp or cutting night winds; but placed in as dry and sheltered\na situation as possible. If kept in the dwelling-house he should have\na place appropriated to his night's rest; this may be an open box, or\na basket, with a piece of carpet or blanket, or clean straw at the\nbottom: if either of the former it should be often beaten, to free it\nfrom fleas or nits, which soon infest it, and frequently washed and\ndried.\n\nDamp is exceedingly injurious to dogs, and is very likely to produce\ndiseased lungs, rheumatism, and lameness in the shoulder and limbs.\n\nTo the preceding instructions, for which the compiler is chiefly\nindebted to the works of Capt. Thomas Brown, Youatt, and Blaine, and\nto the practical information obtained from Mr. Herring of the New\nRoad, and Mr. William George, an extensive dog-fancier at Kensall New\nTown, may be appropriately subjoined a lively chapter from the recent\nwork of Mr. Francis Butler, a leading American authority on the\nsubject.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"It is more important to understand the management of a dog, than to\nbe possessed of a thousand nominal remedies for the cure of his\nvarious ailments; inasmuch as the antidote is at all times preferable\nto the cure.\n\n\"I shall first throw out a few hints on the Management of Pets. Whilst\nmany are sacrificed for lack of necessary attendance, there are\nthousands who perish prematurely from overdoses of kindness. Delicate\nbreeds of dogs certainly require great care and attention in rearing;\nbut overstrained tenderness is often more dangerous than culpable\nneglect. The dear little creature that is allowed to lay under the\nstove, is stuffed with delicacies two or three times a-day, and is\nnever allowed to breathe the fresh air, except under a cloudless sky,\nis more subject to colds, fits, rheumatism, sore eyes and ears, worms,\n&c., than the worthless mongrel which was raised on the street,\nneglected and despised. The tenderly-nursed pet is affected by every\nchange of atmosphere, and subjected to a variety of diseases unknown\nto the dog that has been hardened from his birth. I ask you, then,\nneither to stuff nor starve; neither to chill nor burn.\n\n\"A house-pet should always have a sleeping-place allotted to him, warm\nand comfortable, not near the fire, nor in the damp. Anything round is\nbest for an animal to lay in; such as a tastefully ornamented box. In\ncold weather it should not be larger than to contain him comfortably.\nIt is best for the following reasons: he may keep himself perfectly\nwarm, and his bed may be made exactly to fit him; it also takes up\nless available space than any other shape. He should never be fed to\nthe full; neither excited to eat when he appears disinclined. Lack of\nappetite, so common to pampered favourites, is generally the result of\nan overloaded stomach and disordered digestion. This is easily cured\nby medicine, but more safely and simply without it. Fast him for\ntwenty-four hours; after which, keep him on half his ordinary\nallowance. If this agrees with him, and he keeps in fair condition,\ncontinue the regimen.\n\n\"Nursing in the lap is injurious; not in itself, but the animal is\nthereby subjected to constant chills, in emerging from a snoozy\nwarmth to a cold carpet or chilly bed. A dog accustomed to the lap is\nalways shivering after it, and renders himself quite troublesome by\nhis importunate addresses. A moderate share of nursing is well enough,\nbut should be indulged in only as an occasional treat. Great care\nshould be taken in the washing of delicate dogs. When this operation\nis performed, they should be rubbed perfectly dry; after which they\nshould be covered, and remain so till the shivering has completely\nsubsided.[T] The water should be only blood-warm; it is far better\nthan hot, and not so likely to give the animal cold. Injudicious\nwashing and bad drying are productive of running sore eyes, more\nespecially visible in white poodles, where the hair is long and\nwoolly, retaining the moisture.\n\n\"Once a fortnight is often enough to wash any dog but a white one.\nWashing has very little effect in the destruction of vermin. Fleas can\nlive some time under water; which I have often thought only makes them\nbite the harder and stick the closer, when reanimated from their\ntemporary torpidity. If 'Butler's Mange Liniment and Flea\nExterminator' cannot be obtained, the animal may be well sodden with\nsoft soap and washed about ten minutes after. This cannot be done with\nsafety, except in warm weather. In cold weather, the comb may be used\nimmediately after the application of the soap, as the fleas will then\nbe too stupid to effect their escape. 'Butler's Liniment' destroys all\nvermin instantaneously, without risk of injuring the animal; and the\nquadruped may be rinsed one minute after. No flea will remain alive;\nthe skin will be thoroughly cleansed, and the coat beautified. Dogs\nshould never be allowed to suffer the torment imposed on them by these\ndetestable vermin. If the owners could only realise the importance of\nridding them of these ever-noisome pests, there would be far less of\nsnappishness, mange, fits, &c. I have seen animals literally worried\nto death by fleas, perfectly exhausted from incessant irritation, at\nlast worn to a skeleton, and gradually extinguished by a creeping\nconsumption. Besides, who (for his own personal comfort), would not\nrid his immediate vicinity of a worthless mob of blood-suckers\nawaiting the first favourable opportunity of regaling themselves on\nhuman blood? If your dog lie on straw, burn it once a week, as fleas\nharbour and propagate in the tubes of the straw. If the bed be carpet,\nor anything similar, let it be often cleansed or changed. Vermin\nrevel in filth, and their extirpation depends mainly on cleanliness.\n\n\"By attending to the general health of a dog, much disease may be\navoided; indeed, this is far more essential than prescriptions for a\ncure. It is very easy to carry off a slight indisposition by gentle\npurgatives and a reformed diet: whilst confirmed disease is often\ndifficult to combat, as few of the canine race can have the advantages\nwhich are ofttimes essential to their restoration. The eyes, the nose,\nthe gums, the hair, the breath, should be carefully noted. The eyes\nmay be red or pale, sunken or protruded; the nose may be hot, or dry,\nor matted with dirt; the gums may be pale, &c. It will require but\nlittle experience to discover a disorganisation, which may be easily\ndetected by him who has noticed the healthful appearance of the\ndifferent parts and their variation under indisposition.\n\n\"If you are in the habit of keeping your dog on the chain, let him at\nleast run a few minutes every day. If he be kept indoors, he should\nalso be allowed a little daily exercise outside. Change of air[U] and\ndiet will sometimes renovate when all remedies fail: a change from\ncity to country, from greasy meat to fresh milk, from a confined yard\nto the green fields, will generally recruit him without the aid of\nmedicine. Nature (to whom physicians are so deeply indebted for so\nmany wonderful restorations), often effects a cure unaided, which\nmight have defied the efforts of Apothecaries' Hall.\n\n\"In summer, particularly, be careful to provide a supply of fresh\nwater and a cool shelter from the sun. Never take your dog out during\nthe intense heat of the day; this is very apt to produce fits, often\nresulting in sudden death. Early in the morning is preferable for\nsummer exercise.\n\n\"The kennel should be located in a shady spot during the summer; in\nwinter it should be sheltered from the wind, and so placed as to\nenable the dog to enjoy the sunshine at will. Above all things, never\nchain a dog where he cannot screen himself from the sun's rays. He\nmust have the option of sunshine or shade. He should not be allowed to\ndrink water that has been standing in the sun, or is otherwise\ndamaged. If you should chance to forget to feed him for forty-eight\nhours, he would not run as much risk of injury, as during three hours\nof thirst in hot weather. There should be a piece of joist under each\nend of the dog-house, to keep it off the ground, in order to avoid\ndampness. In summer an excavation, two or three feet in depth, should\nbe made under it, and left open at both ends, that the animal may have\na cool retreat during the heat. Those who do not object to a trifling\nexpense, may have the house posted on a large paving-stone, with an\nexcavation under it, as before recommended. All burrowing animals seek\nthe earth in hot weather. Everything on the surface is heated; their\nown instinct dictates the most reasonable method of sheltering\nthemselves from the heat, at the same time absorbing the cool\nexhalations from the ground. In southern climates, especially, this\nmethod is all important. In this manner I have kept dogs from the\npolar regions, in comparative comfort, whilst many native-born and\nneglected have been scalded into fits, paralysis, rabies, or\nhydrophobia.\n\n\"In the hot season, with young dogs, raw meat should be avoided,\nexcept it be quite fresh, and then they should not be over-fed,\nespecially if debarred of abundant exercise, and excluded from their\nown natural medicine, grass. A dog will often thrive better on raw\nmeat than on any other food, and will grow larger; but he should be\nfed with discretion, and his health attended to, should his diet\nvisibly disagree with him.[V] He will grow fatter and be more healthy\non moderate meals than if overgorged. The better plan is to ascertain\nhis average consumption, and then allow him a little less. Keep his\ndigestion in good order, and disease will rarely trouble him. His coat\nand ribs will generally indicate whether he be sufficiently cared for,\nwhether he be sick or sound in his digestive organs; feed him always\nin the same place, and at the same hour: once a day is sufficient, if\nhe be over six months old. By being fed only once a day he is less\nchoice, and will consume what he might refuse, if his appetite were\ndulled by a previous meal.\n\n\"Should you require your dog to be watchful at night, feed him in the\nmorning; if you would have him quiet at night, feed him late, and\ndon't leave him bones to gnaw. Dogs are pretty quiet, during the\ndigestive process, when left to themselves, and should not have much\nexercise after a heavy meal. They should only be lightly fed before\ntraining-lessons, or on sporting days; on the latter occasions a\nlittle refreshment may be administered as occasion may require. Those\nkept in-doors should be allowed to run a little after meals, when they\ngenerally require an evacuation.\n\n\"If a dog be regularly exercised he will seldom even soil around his\nkennel, and a healthy house pet is rarely troublesome, except after\neating. If a dog be uncleanly in the house, he should decidedly be\nbroken of it, although it would be useless to correct him unless he\nhas a fair opportunity of avoiding it. He should be invariably taken\nto the spot, be sufficiently twigged there, and unceremoniously\nscolded into the yard. The punishment will be far more justly\nadministered if the animal be let out at regular intervals; this being\ndone he will not attempt to infringe the law, except in cases of dire\nnecessity.\n\n\"I am satisfied as a general rule, that a well-amalgamated mixture of\nanimal and vegetable is the most healthful diet for dogs of all ages,\nbreeds, and conditions. Dogs living in the house should on no account\nbe fed on raw meat, as it gives them a very offensive smell, and is in\nother respects very unsuitable.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[A] Daniel's \"Rural Sports.\"\n\n[B] Daniel's \"Rural Sports.\"\n\n[C] Thornton's \"Instincts.\"\n\n[D] \"Sportsman's Cabinet.\"\n\n[E] Ballet, in his \"Dissertations sur la Mythologie Francaise,\" shows\nthat this popular story of the dog of Montargis is much older than the\ntime of Charles V.; and that Albericus, an old monkish chronicler,\nrecords it as happening in the reign of Charlemagne, anno 780.\n\n[F] See the entire poem in Tomkins' \"Beauties of English Poetry.\"\n18mo. 1847.\n\n[G] \"I fear this is a sad geological anachronism; however, I cannot\nbut hope that the Irish wolf-dog will yet be found in some cavern,\nassociated with the prototypes of Ireland's earliest heroes who\npeopled the land soon after it emerged from the deep,\n\n                'Great, glorious, and free,\n    First flower of the earth and first gem of the sea.'\"\n\n[H] O'Keefe, \"Wicklow Gold Mines.\"\n\n[I] A similar instance of canine intelligence will be found in p. 51\nof the present volume.\n\n[J] \"The Sportsman's Cabinet.\"\n\n[K] Tenbeia portus est Cambriae meridionalis, ubi Belgarum colonis a\nrege, ut fertur, Henrico primo locata est. Horum posteri a\ncircumjacente Celticae originis populo lingua etiam nunc omnino\ndiscrepant.\n\n[L] Infinitivo, quem vocant, hoc in ier desinente solus credo, inter,\nmelioris notae, quos habemus, elegorum scriptores usus est Catullus:\nsed qualis ille Poeta! sed quantus in omni genere Latini carminis et\nartifex elegantiae et magister!\n\n[M] His master's pocket-book, with which Tippo, the only living\ncreature saved from the wreck, came ashore.\n\n[N] See Bewick's \"Quadrupeds,\" p. 306, 1st ed.\n\n[O] A celebrated portrait painter, and Secretary to the Scottish\nAcademy of Painting. This gentleman also excelled in the portraits of\nanimals.\n\n[P] \"Sometimes the members or domestics of the convent have been\nsufferers in their efforts to save others. On the 17th of December,\n1825, three domestics of the convent with two dogs descended to the\nvacherie, on the Piedmontese side of the mountain, and were returning\nwith a traveller, when an avalanche overwhelmed them. All perished\nexcept one of the dogs, which escaped by its prodigious strength,\nafter having been thrown over and over. Of the poor victims, none were\nfound until the snow of the avalanche had melted in the returning\nsummer, when the first was discovered on the 4th of June, and the last\non the 7th of July.\"\n\n[Q] Mrs. Grosvenor, now of Richmond, Surrey.\n\n[R] For other instances of speaking dogs see _ante_, p. 49.\n\n[S] In p. 147 a similar anecdote has been recorded of a Newfoundland\ndog and a spaniel; and in p. 221 an instance is given of the revenge\ntaken by a Colley on a tailor's dog.\n\n[T] Or if the weather be fine and warm they may run out and dry\nthemselves.--Ed.\n\n[U] Sea-air, however, especially during long sea-voyages, perhaps in\nconnexion with salt meat, has been known to produce the distemper in\ndogs.--Ed.\n\n[V] House-dogs fed on raw meat, bones, and liver, soon become\noffensive neighbours; the more so in proportion to their want of\noutdoor exercise.--Ed.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX.\n\n\n                                      PAGE\n\n    BAN DOG                            479\n    BEAGLE                             438\n    BLOODHOUND                         250\n    BULL DOG                           454\n    BULL-DOG TERRIER                    16\n\n    COACH DOG                          459\n    COLLEY (SCOTCH)                    185\n    CUR DOG                            466\n\n    DALMATIAN                          459\n    DANISH DOG                         463\n    DEER-HOUND                         119\n\n    ESQUIMAUX DOG                      353\n\n    FOXHOUND                           421\n\n    GREYHOUND                          367\n    GREYHOUND (PERSIAN)                380\n\n    LURCHER                            475\n\n    MASTIFF                            440\n    MATIN (FRENCH)                     465\n\n    NEWFOUNDLAND DOG               67, 133\n\n    OTTER TERRIER                      361\n\n    POINTER                            383\n    POODLE                             331\n    PUG DOG                            412\n\n    ST. BERNARD DOG                    240\n    SETTER                             400\n    SHEPHERD'S DOG                     185\n    SPANIEL                        77, 300\n    STAG-HOUND                         116\n\n    TERRIER                        20, 264\n    TURNSPIT                           418\n\n    WATER SPANIEL                      300\n    WOLF DOG (IRISH AND HIGHLAND)  85, 107\n\n\nLondon:--Printed by G. BARCLAY, Castle St. Leicester Sq.","title":"Anecdotes of Dogs","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":125519}