Qk TABLE OF CONTENTS. CHAtTEB PAGE XIII.— BLEEDING ; TORSION; CASTRATION; PARTURITION; AND SOME DISEASES CONNECTED WITH THE ORGANS OF GENERATION 861 XIV.— THE DISTEMPER 367 XV.— SMALL-POX; MANGE; WARTS; CANCER; FUNGUS H^MA- TODES; SORE FEET 374 XVI.— FRACTURES . 379 XVII.— MEDICINES USED IN THE TREATMENT OF THE DISEASES OF THE DOG 382 APPENDIX.— New Laws of Coursing 385 . ' * ' ' THE HpG. I.— THE HOG TRIBE 389 II.— THE WILD HOG 407 III.— ON THE CHARACTER AND GENERAL UTILITY OF THE HOG AS A DOMESTIC ANIMAL, AND ON ITS WIDE EXTENT OF DISTRIBUTION 442 IV.-ON THE PRINCIPAL BREEDS OF PIGS IN THE BRITISH ISLANDS 462 v.— ON THE GENERAL MANAGEMENT OF SWINE .... 475 VI.— ON THE DISEASES OF SWINE 486 POULTRY. L— INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS.— ON THE STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF GALLINACEOUS BIRDS.— THE CHARACTERS OF THE PHASIANIDJS, AND THE ORIGIN OF THE DOMES- TIC FOWL 493 II.— ON THE PRINCIPAL BREEDS OF FOWLS IN OUR ISLAND.— ON THEIR VALUE IN AN ECONOMIC POINT OF VIEW . . 508 ■ III.— ON THE GENERAL TREATMENT AND MANAGEMENT OF FOWLS 521 IV.— HISTORY OF THE TURKEY, THE PEA-FOWL, THE GUINEA- FOWL, AND THE CURASSOW 546 v.— THE COLUMBINE ORDER 570 VI.— GENERAL HISTORY OF THE NATATORIAL ORDER (NATATORES), AND OF THE DOMESTIC SPECIES RECLAIMED FROM IT . 581 BEES. The Management of Bees . . . .' 617 Profits of Bee-Keeping . -. 618 Bee-Flowers 618 The Hive 619 Commencement of Operations 620 Winter Management 620 Honey-Taking and Swarming 621 Bee-Dress ''23 ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOLUME II. THE £ 5HEEP. 1 . Head of the Black-faced Scotch Sheep in Title 19. Dorset Ram .... Page 98 2. Interdigital Pit ... Page 18 20. ExmoorRam .... 101 3. The Aoudad . 19 21. Welsh Sheep .... 105 4. Mouflon of Corsica . 20 22.. Cheviot . Ill 5. Great Asiatic Argali 24 23. Old Noi-folk Ram . 114 6. Rocky Mountain Sheep 27 24. Black-faced Scotch Sheep •116 7. Wallachian Sheep . 35 25. Shetland Sheep 120 8. Steatojiygous Sheep . 36 26. Leicester Sheep 123 9. Long Fat-tailed Sheep 37 27. Lincoln Sheep 129 10. Hairy Fezzan Sheep 42 28. Romney Marsh Sheep 132 11. Merino Ram . 53 29. Cotswold Sheep 134 12. Incisors at Fifteen Months 75 30. Irish Moimtain or Cottagh Sheep 137 13. „ at Two Years 75 31. The Llama .... 155 14. „ at Three Years 75 32. The Vicuna .... 158 15. „ at Four Years 75 33. Thibet Goat .... 161 16. „ at Five Years 76 34. Front View of Sheep's Skull, Polled 175 17. „ Deceptive Appeal ance of, at 35. Profile of Sheep's Skull, Horned 175 Four Yeai's 76 36. Section of Skull ' . . . 176 18. Southdown Ram 93 THE 1. Scotch Terrier on the Watch . in Title 2. Group of Greyhound Puppies . Page 224 3. The Thibet Dog 228 4. The Dingo .... 233 5. The Hare Indian Dog . 236 6. The Great Danish Dog . 237 7. The Greyhound 238 8. The Grecian Greyhound . 246 9. Blenheims and Cockers , 248 10. The Water Spaniel . 250 11. The Poodle . . .' . 251 12. The Alpine Spaniel or Bemardine Dog 253 13. The Newfoundland Dog . 255 14. The Esquimaux Dog 257 15. The English Sheep Dog . 259 16. The Scotch Sheep Dog . 261 DOG. 17. The Beagle . 18. The Harrier . 19. The Foxhound 20. The Kennel at Goodwood 21. The Southern Hound 22. The Setter 23. The Pointer . 24. The Bulldog . 25. The Mastiff . 26. The Scotch Terrier . 27. The Skeleton of the Dog 28. Seven Cuts Exhibiting the Front Teeth of the Dog in various Stages of Growth and Decay , . 29. Head of Blood-hound Page 265 267 268 276 278 280 281 285 286 288 296 334-5 387 ILLUSTRATIONS. THE HOG. 1. Head of Boar . 2. Skull of Hog seen from Above 8. Skull of Hog seen in Profile 4. Teeth of Hog . 5. Dentition of Babirussa 6. Skull of Babirussa . 7. Babimssa 8. Teeth of Phacochoerus in Title Paye 392 392 393 397 401 9. Phacochcerus -lEliani . . Page 402 10. The Wild Boar .... 408 11. The Improved Berkshire Hog . . 464 12. The Improved Hampshire Hog . 466 13. The Improved Suffolk Hog . . 467 14. The Improved Essex Hog . . 468 15. The Chinese Hog . . . .473 16. Design of Sties, Elevation and Section 477 POULTRY. Group of Fowls Cut of Gizzard of Turkey Javanese Jungle-Fowl Sonnerat's Jungle-Fowl . The Game Cock The Kulm or Malay Fowl The Spangled Poland Fowl The Spanish Fowl . Sir John Sebright's Silver Bantam Ovarium of Fowl The Wild Turkey . The Peacock '. The Guinea-Fowl . The Galeated Curassow The Crested Curassow The Rock-Dove The Carrier Pigeon . The Summer Duck . Bill of Shoveller in Title. Page 500 505 506 508 510 511 512 514 527 550 560 564 567 568 572 577 582 583 20. Bill of Malacorhynchus 21. Bill of Gad wall 22. Bill of Pintail 23. The Pintail Duck . 24. Bill of Teal '. 25. Bill of Mallard 26. Bill of Widgeon 27. Bill of Summer Duck 28. The Wild Duck or Mallard 29. The Musk Duck 30. The Common Swan 31. Head of Hooper Swan 32. Head of Polish "Swan 33. Head of Bewick's Swan 34. Head of Mute Swan 35. The Canada Goose . 36. The Chinese Goose . 37. The Common Goose 583 584 584 584 584 584 585 585 585 590 591 592 592 592 592 594 596 BEES. 1. Sections of Comb— Figs. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8 . ." . . Page 606-7 2. Proboscis of Bee . . . . 608 3. The Hinder Leg of Worker-bee . 609 4. The Three Descriptions of Bees of a Hive ...... 610 5. The Queen's Cell . . . Page 611 6. The Egg, Larva, and Pupa of the Worker-Bee; and head of the Larva magnified . . • . . 611 7. Sketch of Mr. Grant's Bee-Hive . 620 THE SHEEP. BY W. C. L. MARTIN, LATE ONE OF THE SCIENTIFIC OFFICERS OF THE ZOOLOGJCAI. SOCIEIT OF LONDON. THE SHEEP. CHAPTER I. ANCIENT HISTORY AND VALUE ; ITS WOOL. Ajiong the Ruminaut Order of Mammalia, there is not one species, not even the ox, more iutriusically useful and importaat to man than the sheep ; nay, perhaps there is no domestic quadruped so truly valu- able. It cannot, indeed, laboui- like the horse or the ox, and it cannot fulfil the thousand services rendered by the dog ; its importance is the result of qualities irrespective of the power of labour and docility to the yoke — irrespective of a high ratio of intelli- gence, courage, activity, and personal attachment. Looking at the sheep in these points of view it has nothing to recommend it ; we must consider it in another light in order to feel the full force of the claims it has upon our attention and interest — claims which have been acknowledged from the earliest period of mans existence upon the globe even to the present day. No part of the sheep is destitute of utility; its flesh (termed mutton, by way of distinction from heef or veal, words of French origin,) graces alike the repasts of the most wealthy and the tables of the humble ; it is in universal esteem, ami is prepared in various methods, not only in our island but throughout the continent — we may even say the world. For the sake of their flesh vast flocks are everywhere reared ; they add a charm to the most unpicturesque scenery ; and their breeding, feeding, and atten- dance are objects of especial concern, involving the capital of agriculturalists, and the supply of the markets with one of the staple articles of animal food. Were it only for the demand of its flesh, the sheep would take a conspicuous place among the animals which Providence appears to have designed expressly for the benefit of the human species, and would divide the palm of utility with the ox. Did not the cow supply us with abundance of milk, we should, as in ancient days, drain the uilders of the goat and sheep. In many parts of Europe, the ewes are as regularly milked as the cows ; such was the case formerly in our island, and ewe cheeses are still made in Wales and Scotland. In many countries of Asia, the milk of the ewe and the goat, from primitive times to the present, has been preferred before that of the cow, even where cow's milk may be procured. It is from the milk of the ewe and the goat that butter is still obtained in Syria and Arabia, as is also cheese. In modern Greece a considerable quantity of cheese VOL. ir. is made from ewe-milk, as in the time of Homer ; and in modern Europe certain celebrated cheeses are prepared from the mixed milk of ewes and goats. To this subject we have already alluded in the history of the o.\; ; we shall not recapitulate what we have there stated, but content ourselves by observing that, as a milk-giving animal, the sheep (and the goat is included) must be regarded even in modern times as not unimportant, though, as far as Europe at least is concerned, not to the degree it was in days of antiquity. We have already said that no part of the sheep is valueless ; the horns, the bones, the intestines, and the skin, have each their respective uses. The skin of the sheep, partially tanned, and duly pre- pared, is used in the common sorts of book-binding ; it is also manufactured into parchment, and be- comes exceedingly valuable on account of its dura- bility. Great numbers of lambskins are dressed in a peculiar way, with the wool on them, and used as furs, or made up into gloves. The people of Thibet generally cure the skins of sheep with the wool on them, and make them up into warm winter garments. The skins of lambs prepared in the same way are also greatly esteemed, parti- cularly those of lambs either killed as soon as born, or of lambs prematurely procured by a bar- barous Caesarian operation. This is, indeed, a common practice in many parts of the East — in Tartary, Persia, Crimea, Turkey, &c. " In order," says Captain Turner, " to obtain the skin in its higli- est perfection, the dam is sometimes killed before her time of yeaning — a cniel precaution, whic'i, however, secures a silky softness to the fleece, and stamps a very high price upon it in this region (Thibet), where the merit of good furs is well as- certained. It serves particularly for lining vests, and is in equal estimation over all Tartary ; it bears a very high price also in China." The lambskins of Bucharia, with a curly silken fleece of silvery grey, black or bluish, are extremely valuable ; and highly esteemed skins are prepared by the inha- bitants of the Ukraine and Podolia. On these points, however, we shall not here enlarge ; it suffices to notice them. With respect to the intestines of the sheep, the principal article of value manufactured from them is caL-giit for stringed musical instruments. THE SHEKP. After all, it is as a wool-beaiing animal that the sheep claims our chief regard ; to its fleece every class of persons, from the monarch to the rudest peasant, are alike indebted for gorgeous tissues or homely "hodden grey." There are, indeed, many other wool-hearing quadrupeds, among which we may instance the llama, the paco, the vicugna, and the Cashmere goat, as affording wool of exquisite texture, from whicli costly articles of dress are manufactured ; hut the proportion these creatures furnish is limited as to comparative quantity " en masse." They are con- fined to peculiar regions, their wool is only fitted for " stuffs" of a fine tissue ; it can never super- sede, though hales might be brought into the market, that of the sheep. It is no less fortunate than remarkable that various kinds of wool, differ- ing in quality, in length, in degrees of the felting property, in strengtli, and delicacy, are afforded by the same animal, modified by the judicious and unremitting care of man into numerous varieties, all valuable, all interesting. Hence it is, that fabrics of every texture, from the floating dress which the " dainty ladye"' wears, to the splendid carpet which covers her drawing-room — from the coarse rug which defends the labourer, to the broadcloth of his lord — from the close tartan to the elastic blanket — are all, and many more beside, the produce of this species. Through how many hands, from the shearer to the wearer, does apiece of broad-cloth pass ! — what occupations, what trades ai'e not involved in these few yards of textile ma- terial ! — who are not concerned' in it ! — and to the welfare of how many has it not contributed ! Setting aside the breeder and feeder, and the great manufac- turer, it has even called into requisition the skill of the engineer. Let us, in addition, take into consideration the men and vessels employed in the importation of foreign wools, and the exportation to various countries of manufactured woollen goods, and all the machinery employing capital involved in such a commerce, and it will be diffi- cult for us to name an animal which calls so much labour into activity and capital into circula- tion. We may illustrate our remarks by a few extracts from Mr. M'Culloch's " Statistical Account of the British Empire," premising tliat we have not the means of acquiring any positive data relative to the last two or three years. " Towards the end of the seventeenth centurj', Mr. Gregorj' King and Mr. Davenant estimated the value of wool shorn in England at £'2,000,000 a-year, and they supposed the value of the wool, iucluding that imported from abroad, was quad- rupled in the manufacture, making the entire value of the woollen articles annually produced in England and Wnles i't<.U()0,000, of which about £•2,000,000 were exported. In 1700 and 1701 the official value of the woollens exported, amounted to about £3,000,000 a-year. Owing to the vast increase in the wealth and population of the country, the manufacture must have been greatly extended during the last century, but the increase in the amount of exports was compara- tively inconsiderable. At an average of the six years ending with 1789, the annual official value of exports was £3,544,160 a-year; being an increase of only about £540,000 on the amount exported in 1700. The extraoi'dinary increase of the cotton manufacture soon after 1780, and the extent to which cotton articles then began to be substituted for those of wool, though it did not occasion any decline of the manufacture, no doubt contributed to check its progress. In 1802 the official value of the exports rose to £7,321,012, being the largest amount they ever reached till 1833, when they amounted to £7,788,842. During the five years endhig with 1836, eveiy pait of the manufacture was in a state of unexampled improve- ment and extension, notwithstanding the price of wool was for the greater part of this period very high. " The entire produce of English wool may be estimated at about 500,000, or 520,000 packs of 240 lbs. each : but, exclusive of this, we use large supplies of foreign wool, English wool not being suitable, without an intermixture at least with foreign, for various departments of the manufacture. Formerly the principal part of our imports came from Spain, but the late king of Saxony, when elector, introduced the Merino breed of sheep into his dominions, and exerted himself to promote their growth. His praiseworthy efforts were ci'owned with the most signal success. The Merino sheep seem to succeed better in Saxony and the other German states tlian in Spain ; and since the peace of 1815, the imports from the latter have been inconsiderable compared with those of the former. The Australian colonies also have recently been rising into great importance as wool- growing countries." According to the same eminent authority, the annual production of wool in Great Britain, at present, mav be at about 490,000 packs, or 117,600,000' lbs., to which adding 30,000,000 lbs. as the average amount of imports (and this is under the mark), the whole will be 147,600,000 lbs. The value of this quantity of wool must of course vaiy from year to year with the variations of its price per lb., but we shall seldom be far wrong if we estimate it at a medium of aboiit £7,500,000 a-year. " Now the best practical authorities agree in opinion with Mr. Stephenson, that the value of the finished article may be taken at about three times the value of the raw material, making on this hypothesis the entire value of the manufacture £22,500,000, whicli we are disposed to think is pretty near the mark." THE SHEEP. a According to the information Mr. M'Culloch obtained, he considers the following statistical table of items, regarding the manufacture of woollens, as approximating to the truth : — £ Raw material (wool) 7,.500,000 Oil, so;ip, and dye stuffs, &c 1,600,000 Wear and tear of capital, and profit 4,650,000 ■\Va"es 8,750,000 total value of manufactured articles £22,500,00 This is not the place to enter into the statistics | of the woollen manufactures of Great Britain, we shall hereafter have occasion to revert to them ; but we make these extracts merely to enforce our proposition, that it will be difficult for us to name an animal which calls so much labour into activity and capital into circulation ; perhaps one may — an insect— the silk-moth. We may here observe that wool, in early times, was accounted one of the staple* aiticles of mer- chandise in England — a proof at once of its early commercial importance, and the superiority of the produce of the native breeds of our island. The history of the domestic sheep commences in remote antiquity. Abel was a keeper of sheep, and " brought of the firstlings of his tloclv, and of the fat," or rather perhaps the milk thereof, as a sacrificial offering on the altar. Already was the sheep domesticated, and subsequently we read of large flocks of sheep constituting a great portion of the wealth of patriarchs ; these were under the care not only of servants, but even of the daughters or sons of the patriarchs, for, in those primitive days, the duties of the shepherd were deemed not inconsistent with rank or pre-eminence. Thus, "Jacob grazed his uncle Laban's sheep;" " Moses kept the flock of Jethro his father-in-law, the priest of JVIidian ;" and the daughters of Laban tended his flocks. The pastoral poetry of antiquity has rendered us familiar with the idea of females of birth and beauty acting as shepherdesses ; nor I was the duty of tending sheep accounted unworthy of gods and godlike men, princes and heroes. Carding wool, spinning, and weaving, were in ^ those early days the employment of females of the ! highest rank. " She seeketh wool and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands." " She per- ceiveth that her merchandise is good." " She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands , hold the distaff'." " She is not afraid of the snow j • The word staple, or estaple, is derived from the French word 1 Estops (now written Etape), which sij;nifies a market or public ' place of sale; or rather from the Teutonic Stapel. In England all merchandise sold for the puipose of exportation, was com- pelled either to be sold at the staple, or afteiTvards brought there before exportation (2 Edward III., c. 9.) This was done with the double view of accommodating the foreign merchants, and of enabling the duties on exportation to be collected with certainty and convenience. In process of time the word staple bcgan"to be applied to the merchandise itself, sold at these authorized markets, viz. wool, sheepskins, lealhcr, lead, and tin; articles of eipoitatiou. for her household, for all her household it in clothed with scarlet." " She maketh herself coverings of tapestry." — Prov. xxxi., 13, 18, 19, 21, 2-i. The Scriptural records, in fact, abou id in descriptive passages which prove that the con- version of the fleece into woollen tissue, and that too of different colours, the wool or the yarn being previously dyed, was one of the ordinary domestic occupations of females in Syria. Weaving is indeed an art of great antiquity; Job says, "my days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle," and in Deuteronomy xxii., 11, we read this command- ment, " Thou shalt not wear a garment of divers sorts, as of woollen and linen together." Moses speaks expressly of fine linen, and of the women spinning, both of blue, and of purple, and of scarlet ; and of fine linen ; and also of goats" hair being spun. He speaks, moreover, " of the em- broitlerer in blue, and in purple, in scarlet, and in fine linen, and of the weaver." — Exodus xxxv. These and other passages prove not only that the art of spinning and weaving, but of dyeing also, was practised in remote antiquity. The fine linen of Egypt was celebrated ; and it would appear that they also spun and wove wool. Hero- dotus says, that " the women in Egypt are em- ployed in trade or business, while the men stay at home and spin and weave. They wear garments of linen, first washed, taking care to have them clean." "The priests are clothed in linen, wear shoes of linen, and are not permitted to tkess in any other manner." Elsewhere, speaking of the Egyptians generally, he says, " They wear a linen tunic, bordered at the bottom with fringes, and a cloak of white woollen cloth over it ; but to enter into any temple with this garment, or to be buried in anything made of wool, is accounted profane." How are we to reconcile this with the fact of a strong thick felted covering of wool, dyed with a pattern of various colours, being found on the body of a mummy from Thebes, which was examined some years since at the rooms of the Loudon Zoo- logical Society, in Bruton Street? We ourselves assisted in unswathing the mummy, and long pos- sessed a small portion of the felted cloth. At all events tliis is sufficient to prove that the art of felting was knowm to the Egyptians ; and it is not improbable, that the first woollen garments used by the nomadic feeders of flocks in Syria and Arabia were of felted wool. Certain it is. that from the earliest times wool has been known to possess the property of felting. Pliny observes, that wool of itself, driven into a felt, without spinning or weaving, serves to make garments ; and that if vinegar be used in the working, such felts are proof against the edge or point of a sword, and are capable of arresting the progress of fire. RIantles and counterpanes of felt were used at Rome. THE SHEKP. If we t;ii ;i tu tlie pages of classic antiquity, we ill id gods and princes occupied as shepherds, and OLieens engaged in the work of the loom. The iabulous contest of Minerva and Arachne has been celebrated by Ovid; Homer paints both Helen and Penelope as devoted to the loom ; and, at a far later period, the ladies both of Greece and Rome wrought woollen stuffs for garments, as well as "coverings of tapestry" — not, indeed, that the distaff and the loom were exclusively under the patronage of the higher ranks ; for, although Augustus wore a dress manufactured by his wife and female relatives, the humblest female plied the same task, and the peasant's garment was spun and wove by the females of his lowly abode. Many, indeed, procured a livelihood by manufac- turing cloth ; and Virgil thus describes an honest, industrious, but humble matron, who laid " her hands to the spindle :" — " Cum feniina primum Cui tolerare colo vitam, tenuiqiie Mimifa, Impositum cinerem, et sopitos suscital ignes, Noctem addens open, famulasque ad liimina longo Exercel penso, castum ut servare cubile Conjugis, et possil parvos ediicere natos." Virgil, ^d. Iviii. RAL TRANSLATION. •• What work for bread time tlie housew It her dibtaff am fe, humbl Whose concern it loom, Stirs up the heaped-up ashes and the dormant fire, Adding night to her labour, and bv taper-light urges her maids To their tedious task, that she may preserve inviolate lier husband's bed, And be enabled to bring up her little sons." To add more on this subject would be to repeat a thrice-told tale ; suESce it to glance at the esteem or respect in which the shepherd's occupation was held, in ancient times, by all people excepting the Egyptians, — and the general employment of females in spinning and weaving, from the highest to the lowest, from those who worked for anmse- ment to those who toiled from necessity, either in order to clothe their family, or to procure a living. From Homer to Virgil poets have combined to throw an air of almost romance around the shepherd's useful and peaceful occupation. They have painted the shepherds as leading not driving, their sheep, and piping their "oaten straws," while, seated in the shade, they watched their fleecy charge ; and though they say little of the rough Avork which necessarily devolves on the " keeper of sheep," their pictures, though perhaps over- coloured, are true in the main. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, writing from Adrianople, after noticing the fistula of unequal reeds, in common use as a musical instiiunent among the peasantry, says, " Mr. Addison might here make the experiment he speaks of in his travels, there not being one instrument of nnisic anmng the Greek or Roman statues that is not to be found in the hands of the people of this country. The young lads generally divert themselves with making garlands for their favourite lambs, which I have often seen painted, and adorned with flowers, lying at their feet, while they sung or played. It is not that they ever read romances, but these are the ancient amuse- ments here, and as natural to them as cudgel- playing and foot-ball to our British swains. * * * I no longer look upon Theocritus as a^-omantic writer ; he has only given a plain image of the way of life amongst the peasants of his country." In looking at the sheep as one of the most valued domestic animals of antiquity, it strikes us that there are several points connected with its culture and treatment in early ages, which may not be altogetlier devoid of interest. We have said that the shepherds are described as leading not driving their sheep, and we may add, that they gave them distinct names. To these circumstances a beautiful allusion is made by the Great Shepherd. " He calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out ; and when he putteth forth his own sheep he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice ; and a stranger they will not follow."- — John, x., 'o, 4, 5, in part. Dr. Kitto, commenting on these passages, says, " It would seem that the Jews, like the Arabians, gave names to their sheep, by which they tliey called them to drink or to be milked." This necessarily implies that the shepherd could distinguish individually the sheep of his flock ; and, however strange this may seem, it is possible and time ; for it is luiown that shep- herds, particularly in the East, can and do distin- guish thus the individuals in even veiy large flocks. The fjastoral custom here alluded to, of giving names, for distinction, to particular sheep, was by no means confined to the East ; it was usual, also, among the shepherds of Greece. Thus, Theocritus (Idyl, v., 103-4) makes the shepherd Lacon address some of his flock by name ; de- siring two, Conainis and Cynothe, to leave the oak, and feed, like Phalarus, towards the rising sun. These significant names are two of them mascu- line and one feminine, showing that the ewes as well as the rams were distinguished by proper names. It might easily be shown, by extended citations, that the custom was of veiy extensive application— that names were given to almost all domestic animals, as usually we give names to dogs and horses. In ancient times the intimacy, so to speak, between the shepherd and his sheep was more close than it is at present, at least in most parts of Europe ; nevertheless, the practice of giving names to sheep, and of teaching them to come when called, is not yet extinct in Greece and Western Asia. The Rev. J. Hartley (■' Researches in Greece and the Levant") says, " I asked my man if it was THE SHEEP. usual ill Greece to give names to sheej). He in- formed me that it was, and that the sheep obeyed the shejiherd when he called them by their names. This morning I had an opportunity of verifying the truth of this remark. Passing by a flock of sheep I asked the same question which I put to my servant, and he gave me the same answer. I then bade him call one of his sheep, he did so ; it instantly left its pasturage and companions, and ran up to the hand of the shepherd with signs of pleasure, and with a prompt obedience which 1 had never before observed in any other animal. The she])lierd told me that many of his sheep were still vild ; that tliey had not yet learned their names, but that by teaching they would all learn them. The others which knew their names he called tame." When the flock, as was often the case in tlie earlier ages, was very numerous, it is not to be supposed that every sheep was, as the Greek shepherd said, rendered tame ; it would suffice that a few of the leaders, the rams of the flock, should be so instructed ; for so remarkablSis the princijjle of imitation in this animal, that where one goes the Hock all follow ; and thus, one or two obeying the shepiierd's voice, will, as it were, over-rule the actions of the rest. It is thus that the shep- herds manage their fl.cks in some parts of France. '• They select certain sheep from the flock, they give them particular names, and teach them to come when they are called. In order to accustom them to this, they make the sheep follow them by offering them a piece of bread. When the shep- herd wishes to lead his flock through a defile, or to make them change the direction in which they are proceeding, he calls to him one of these selected sheep ; those that are nearest to him im- mediately follow, and the others are not far be- hind ; so by degrees the whole flock are disposed to obey the call of the shepherd, and to follow him." — Instructions pour les Bergers, p. 15. Dr. Kilto well observes, that the term " voice " (o THE SHEEP. found even in Russia, in the villages of Avhich we have often, of a morning, seen a peasant marching through the street, playing on a pipe, on the hear- ing of which the animals came forth from their various cottage homesteads, following him to the pastures. They are brought home in the evening and called to be milked in the same manner. A vocal whistle, or any peculiar sound of the human voice, might, and probably did often, answer the same purpose." — Pictorial Bible, iii., p. 215. This ancient mode of leading the flock, and of calling the sheep together by means of the sound of a horn, or other call, suggests a query as to the character and use of the sheep-dog. It may, indeed, be asked, was the sheep-dog anciently known? Our sheep-dog is a dog for driving sheep and for collecting flocks, and Buffon regards it as one of the primitive, or rather the primitive form of the species. Now, the ancients possessed sheep-dogs, but they were not used for driving sheep, but for defending the ilock ; they were large, fierce, powerful animals, employed to defend their charge against the attacks of ferocious beasts ; they were on friendly terms with the flock, and regarded as protectors, but in other respects were not used ; they were guardians and sentinels. Job (ch. XXX., V. 1), speaks of " the dogs of his flock;" and Isaiah (ch. Ivi.), in figurative language, speaks of " dumb dogs that cannot bark," of " greedy dogs, which can never have enough," and of " shepherds that cannot understand." The ancient classic poets never describe the sheep-dog as we have it ; that is, as a driver and collector of sheep ; so that Buftbn's idea respecting its primi- tiveness, seems to us to be based upon no real foundation. The ancient sheep-dog was a watch- dog,— he guarded the flock ; he gave warning to the shepherd ; he combated the wolf ; and such still is the sheep-dog over a great portion of Europe, and in Asia generally. The huge dogs of Thibet are guardians of the fold. They are pecu- liar to the table-land of the Himalaya mountains about Thibet, and are bred by the Bhoteas, a singular race of people, who till the ground, keep sheep, and at certain seasons come down to trade, bringing borax, tincal, and musk for sale. Mr. Moorcroft, in his Journey to Lake Jlanasarovara, observes that the Uniyas guarded their flocks Avith fierce dogs, which were much disposed to attack strangers. In Spain, where the sheep are led by the shepherd, the folds are guarded by powerful dogs, capable of contending with the wolf. The shepherds of the Abruzzi, a mountain- ous district in the kingdom of Naples, employ a white long-haired breed of dogs, equal to a New- f.'Undhiiid dog in size, for the purpose of protect- ing the flock against wolves, which are very numerous. In like manner the ancient shep- herds of Italy guarded their flocks ; and Virgil gives the following injunction to the keepers of sheep : — " Nee tibi cura canum fuerit poslrema, sed una Veloces SpartiE catulos, acremqiie Molossuni Pasce sero pingiii ; nunquam lustodihus illis Noctuinum slabulis I'urem, iiicursusque Lupomm Aut impacatos a tergo horrebis Iberos." LITERAL TRANSLATION. " Nor let the care of your dogs be the last ; but at once The swift dogs of Sparta, and the fierce Molossian, Feed with rich whey ; never, these being your guards, Will you dread the nightly robber in your pen.s, or the incur- sions of wolves, Or the restless Iberians coming upon yoii by stealth." Wherever the wolf and other beasts of prey of large size exist, the dog is requisite as their guard, and has been so ft-om the earliest ages. Augustin Gallo [Les Secrets de la vraije agriculture, tra- duits par Francois de Belle-Forest), recommends that these dogs should be white as well as power- ful, like those of the shepherds of the Abruzzi, in order that they may be the better seen by their masters when fighting at night with the wolf, and so not be liable to be shot by mistake. It is in reference to the dog as a faithful defender of the fold, that the Abbe Delille thus writes : — " Aimable autant qu' utile, Superbe et caressant, eourageux et docile, Forme pour le conduire et pour le proteger Du troupeau qu' il gouverne, il est le vrai berger ; I.e ciel I'a fait pour nous ;— et dans leur cour rustique II flit des rois pasteurs le premier domestique." With regard to the general treatment of the sheep in the early ages, we can only glean infor- mation from scattered notices. Flocks formed the chief wealth of the patriarchs ; we are told that the flocks and herds of Abraham and Lot were so great, that " the land could not bear them." The spoil of the Midianites, besides gold and silver, consisted of six hundred and seventy-five thousand sheep, and threescore and twelve thou- sand beeves, and threescore and one thousand asses. — Numbers, xxxi., 32, 33, 34. The tribes of Rettben and Gad made war upon the Hagarites, and took away their cattle, " of their camels fifty thousand, and of sheep two hundred and fifty thou- sand !" — 1 Chron., v., 21. Solomon, at the " great temple's dedication," offered " a sacrifice of twenty and two thousand oxen, and a hundred and twenty thousand sheep." — 2 Chron., vii., 5. These and many other passages prove the abundance of sheep anciently pastured in Syria. Excepting for tiie purpose of sacrifice they were seldom killed, and it would appear that the ewes generally produced twins ; consequently, their annual increase must have far overbalanced any losses. As the flocks exhausted one extent of pasturage, they were con- ducted to another, themselves and their patri- archal owners being necessarily migratoiy ; and even when cities were built, when the population, no longer a nomade race living in tents, inhabited crowded towns, still the sheep and their shepherds THE SilKEP. must have coutiimed their pi-istine habits. Such a shepherd was David, destined to become the mooarch of Israel. We find, that being sent with parched corn, and loaves, and cheese, to his brethren in the army of Saul, that he left the sheep with a keeper in the wilderness — his father's sheep, which he kept, and in the defence of which he had slain a lion and a bear. In order to sup- ply the iiocks and herds with water on the plains of Syria and the wilds of Arabia, wells were dug at different stations, from which the drinking troughs were sujjplied. Such was the well of Haran. " He looked, and beheld a well in the field ; and, lo ! there were three Hocks of sheep lying by it ; for out of that well they watered the tlocks, and a great stone was upon the well's mouth : and thither were all the -flocks gathered ; and they rolled the stone from the well's mouth, and watered the sheep, and put the stone again upon the well's mouth in its place." — Genesis, xxix., 2, 3. The use of the stone over the well was^vidently intended as a means of prevent- ing the pit from becoming choked up with dust or drifting sand, and was removed only at certain times, and carefully replaced. Sometimes these wells were filled up by a vindictive enemy ; often contests between the herdsmen of different masters occurred, each striving for exclusive possession of tlie well ; * and sometimes forcible possession was taken by parties who had no claim to the well, and who had not dug it. Thus, we are told that " Abraham reproved Abimelech because of a well of water, which Abimelech's servants had violently taken away ; and Abimelech said, I wot not who hath done this thing ; neither didst thou tell me, neither yet heard I of it but to-day." To end all dispute, and cement a mutual friendship, Abraham gave sheep and oxen to Abimelech, and purchased the exclusive right to the well which he had dug, or ratified their mutual covenant, with seven ewe lambs. He then called the well "The Well of the Oath," or, " Beersheba." Few changes have taken place in the manners and customs of the wandering tribes of Syria and Arabia. Bruce informs us, that having obtained, at a place called Shekh Ammer, from the Arab Shekh, a pledge of protection and good faith, the people sent down to his boat two bushels of wheat and seven sheep, which was apparently in ratification of the treaty. " That there was something particular in the number of seven, in connection with the oath, would seem from the fact that the word for oath (sheha, as in beer-sheha) also means seven." — Dr. Kitto. Many travellers have described the migratory movements of the Arabs, with their flocks of sheep and goats, as strongly reminding them of the wanderings of the patriarchal shepherds. Par- son, in his "Travels from Aleppo to Bagdad," thus ♦ See Genesis, liii., 7, and xxvi., '.'O, 21. describes the march of a horde of Arabs : — " First went the sheep and goats in regular divisions ; then followed the camels and asses, loaded with the tents, furnitui-e, and kitchen utensils. These were followed by the old men and women, and the boys and girls, on foot; the children that could not walk were carried on the backs of the young women and the boys and girls ; and the smallest of the lambs and kids were carried under the arms of the children. The procession was closed by the chief of the tribe, mounted on the veiy best horse, and surrounded by the heads of each family all on horses, with many servants on foot." Dr. Kitto, in a note on Genesis, xx.xi., 17, 18, relative to the migration of Jacob, says, "A veiy prominent and interesting part of oriental usages consists in the difl'erent forms of travelling and migration, in which little alteration seems to have taken place since the most early times, the usages of which are brietly indicated in the book of Genesis. It is impossible for one who is ac- quainted with the Bible, to witness the migi-ation of a nomade tribe, whether Ai-abian or Tartar, without being forcibly reminded of this journey of Jacob, and the various removals of his grandfather and father. The degree of change probably ex- tends little further than to the more w^arlike character which the tribes now assume in their journeys, arising from the increase of population, and from the extension of the aggressive principle among the children of the deserts. In a quarter of the time in which it would take a poor family in England to get the furuitui'e of a single room ready for removal, the tents of a large encamp- ment will have been struck, and, together with all the moveables and provisions, packed away upon the backs of camels, mules, or asses ; and the whole party will be on its way, leaving, to use an expression of their own, not a halter or a rag behind. The order of march, in the removal of a pastoral tiibe or family, seems to be just the same as that which may be traced in the next and ensuing chapter (Genesis, xxxii., xxxiii.) When the number of animals is considerable, they are kept in separate flocks and droves, under the charge of shepherds and herdsmen, or of the young men and women of the tribe, who hurry actively about, often assisted by dogs, to restrain the larger and more lively animals from straying too far. The veiy young or newlj'-boni lambs and kids are carried either under the arms of the young people, or in baskets or panniers thrown across the backs of camels. To this custom of carrymg the lambs in the arms of the shepherds, as well as to the necessity mentioned by Jacob (Genesis, xxxiii., 13) of driving slowly when the sheep are with young, there is a beautiful allusion in Isaiah (ch. xl., 11), ' He shall feed his sheep like a shepherd ; he shall gather the lambs with 8 THE SHEEP. his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young.' The sheep and goats generally lead the van, and are followed by the camels, and, perhaps, asses, laden more or less with the property of the community. The laden beasts are usually followed by the elderly men, the women, and the children, who are mostly on foot in the oi'dinaiy migrations with their flocks ; which must be carefully distinguished from a caravan jouniey or a predatory excursion across the deserts. The very young children are carried in the arms or on the backs of their mothers, who in general are on foot, but are sometimes mounted, ■with the infants, on the spare or lightly laden beasts. A day's stage, with numerous flocks, is necessarily short, and the pace easy ; it must not be confounded with a day's joumey by the caravan. Thus Jacob says, ' I will lead on softly, according as the cattle that goeth before me, and the children, be able to endui'e,' or, more strictly, ' according to the foot of the work, and according to the foot of the children.' " From several expressions in the Scriptures we glean that sheep in the East were anciently folded ; thefirst notice occurs in Genesis, xxxiii., 17: " And Jacob journeyed to Succoth, and built him a house (or erected a tent), and made booths for his cattle." David " comes to the sl'^epcotes by the way, where was a cave." — 1 Samuel, xxiv., 3. " I took thee from the sheepcote from following the sheep." — 2 Samuel, vii., 8. The tribes of Keuben and Gad, when they saw the land of Jazer, and the land of Gilead, and found it " a place for cattle," said, " We wll build sheepfolds here for our cattle, and cities for our little ones." — Num- bers, xxxii., 16. Hezekiah possessed storehouses for com, wine, and oil, " and stalls for all manner of beast, and cotes for flocks." — 2 Chron., xxxii., 28. These cotes or folds were more used by the shepherds in the neighbourhood of towns and cities, most probably, than by the nomade tribes ; and, doubtless, natural caves often were used, as at present in Persia, for the nightly shelter and security of the flock, as well as arti- ficial enclosures. Homer, in the Odyssey, repre- sents Polyphemus as driving his flock at eventide into a cave, which served as a rude sheep-cote. Virgil directs the sheep to be kept housed in cotes during the severities of winter : — " Incipiens, stabiilis edico in mollibus herbam Carpere oves, dum mox frondosa reducetur cestas Et multa duram stipula, filicumque maniplis Stemere subter piimiim ; glacies ne frigida Isedat Molle pecus, scabiemqne ferat, turpesque podagras." LITERAL TRANSLATION. " To begin, I direct the sheep to be foddered in snug stalls Till the iirst return of leafy summer, And that the hard ground underneath them be stre-n-ed With plenty of straw, and bundles of fern, lest the cold ice injure The tender flo.k, and bring on the scnb, or foul diseases of the feet," Subsequently he says, " But when the glad sum- mer comes, the Zephyrs inviting, let us send forth to feed both flocks, that is, of sheep and goats, into the lawns and pastures ; let them ci'op the cold field with the star of Lucifer rising, while the morning is new, and the dew, so grateful to the flock, is on the tender grass ; then, as soon as the fourth hour of the day shall have brouglit on thirst, while the querulous cicadas are rending the groves with their song, order the flocks to drink at the wells or deep pools, or of the water running in oaken troughs ; but, in the noontide heats, let them seek out an umbrageous valley, where Jove's mighty oak of ancient wood extends its huge boughs ; or wherever a grove, dark with thick ever-green oaks, is stretched out with its sacred shade. Then give them once more the limpid streams, and feed them at the setting of the sun, when cool "Vesper tempers the air, and the shores resound with the Halcyon, and the bushes with small warblers." — See Georg. iii., 1, 322, et seq.* Two points are worthy of notice in these direc- tions, which, though clothed in poetical language, were seriously intended : first, the custom of " battening the flocks with the fresh dew of night" before the sun has exhaled them ; and, secondly, the practice of sheltering them during the noon- tide heat in some shady spot. So Varro says, "About the midday heat, until it grows cool, let them repose under shady rocks, or broad- spreading trees, and feed again at sunset." Tliis custom was common in all the warmer coun- tries ; thus, in the Song of Solomon, " Tell me where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon." — i., 7. The flocks of antiquity consisted of goats as well as sheep, and the same care was paid to the former as to the latter. Virgil says, that though tlie value of the Milesian fleece (Miletos, a city of Ionia, famous for its wool, and fine woollen manu- factures), dyed with Tyrian scarlet, is very con- siderable, yet that goats are equally as profitable as sheep, and yield a greater quantity of milk. He directs, moreover, the shepherds to shear the • After giving these directions to the Italian shepherds, Virgil describes the pastoral tribes of Libya, which live in scattered huts [mapalia), and teed their flocks, both day and night, for a month at a time without placing tiiem under shelter, depasturing tliem in extensive deserts ; as the African shepherd follows them, he carries all with him, — his arms, his house, his household god, his Amy- claean dog, and Cretan quiver. This pastoral life in a genial climate contrasts strongly with that in cold regions, where the winter is excessively severe and very long, as it is on the borders of tlie sea of Aiof and in the country of the Danube : " Not so the Scythian shepherd tends his fold. Nor he who bears in Thrace the bitter cold. Nor he who treads the bleak Mtpotian strand, Or where proud Isier rolls his yellow sand : Early they stall their flocks and herds; for there No grass the fields, no leaves the forests wear, — The frozen earth lies buried there, below A hilly heap, seven cubits deep in .snow. And all the west allies of stormy Boreas blow." Duyden's Virgil, Georg. iii., 1. 319, et .seq. THE SHEET. beards and long hair of the Cinvphian goats (an African breed) for the service of the camp and garments for sailors. We read that curtains of goats' hair were commanded to be made as a cover- ing for the tabernacle (Exod.,xxA'i., 7); and seve- ral allusions are subsequently made to the spin- ning of goats' hair, and to the curtains made of this material. In the East, from the earliest ages, breeds of goats clad with mingled hair and wool have existed. The Cashmere goat is still cele- brated,— as is also the Angora breed of Asia Minor. We need not say that the kid, like the lamb, was anciently accounted a delicacy ; nor that also, like the latter, it was offered in sacrifice upon the altar. The early history of the goat is interwoven with that of the sheep, and we have reason to believe that the latter animal was horned. The practice of divesting the sheep of their wool bjr shearing, must have suggested itself very early to the shepherds of primitive days. Like the clothing of other animals, the wool is natu- rally shed during the warmer months when the fleece becomes a burden, and the new wool begins to spring underneath the old ; it comes off in flakes, tufts, or masses ; and the Hock, wander- ing among bnishwood or thorny bushes, leave great portions of it, as they pass along, intertan- gied with the twigs and branches. At this juncture the old wool is easily disengaged by slightly pull- ing it ; and its detachment causes no pain. Among many of the nations of antiquity it was in this manner that the sheep were divested of their fleece ; but much was probably lost, and much spoiled. This practice is not unknown in modern Europe, or at least was so till very recently. In Iceland, according to Gill (" Technological Re- positoiy," ii., p. IS), the sheep are not shorn, but the wool when loose is pulled off by the hand. Mr. Low, in his Fauna Orcadensis, says, that in Orkney, " about midsummer, there is a particular day published for rowini/, when all the men in the parish attend with their dogs, turn out and drive the whole flock, without any preparation of wash- ing, into narrow pens, and from thence, I may say, to the place of execution, where the wool is torn off their backs — an operation which brings the whole blood into their skin, and is not only disgusting, but, if the season is harsh, is the cause of great destruction. But however cruel it may seem, it is almost the only notice that is taken of these useful animals by their unfeeling masters until that time twelvemonth." Since the time when Low wrote the Orkney Islands have be- come greatly improved, and a stimulus to agricul- ture has been given in consequence of a regular steam communication with Aberdeen and Edin- bm-gh. Ponies and cattle are now abundant : extensive fishei'ies are carried on ; and the kelp manufacture is almost if not quite extinct. The people are intelligent and educated, there being few parishes which have not two schools ; and Low's account of rouiufi sheep might be now i-ead with surprise by the Orkney farmer. Among the Greeks it was the practice, in the time of Hesiod, to shear sheep. Hesiod was contemporary, it is supposed, with Homer. The Greek terms Ipiov, wool, from eXpu, to weave, inter- twist, or net ; iru/cor, a fleece, from veiKw, to comb or card ; KcpStov, fleece, and ij.ax\ns, a fleece, from fia\ov or fxrjXov, a sheep (opes qufe erant apud vete- res oves), have no alhision to the practice of row- ing or pulling away the wool ; on the contrary the Latin word relhis, fleece, is deiived from vello, to tear away ; and in early times, the mos vellendi, the practice of pulling away the fleece, was com- mon in Italy. That part of the Palatine Mount called Velleia, and the adjacent quarter called Velina, were, it is said, originally so named because it was there that the shepherds anciently roired their sheep— (quod ibi pastores Palatini vellere lanam sint soliti) ; and the term Palatine itself is asserted by some to be derived "a balatu pecoris," from the bleating of sheep. Even in Pliny's day, as he informs us, the sheep were not shorn everywhere in Italy ; for the custom of pulling oft' the wool still continued in some places, the sheep being kept fasting for three days pre- viously to the operation, in order that, the poor animals being weakened and exhausted, the roots of the wool might be the more easily detached. We do not remember that Virgil anywhere alludes to this disgraceful practice, though he does to shearing ; perhaps by his silence he wished to show his aversion towards it, and, besides, he might feel that so inhuman a custom would not bear introduction either into his Bucolics or Georgics. Among the patriarchal shepherds we hear only of the practice of shearing. We read that " Judah went up unto his sheep-shearers to Timnath." — Genesis, xxxviii., VZ. "And there was a man in Maon, whose possessions were in Carmel, and the man was very great ; and he had three thousand sheep, and a thousand goats, and he was shearing his sheep in Carmel." — 1 Samuel, xxv., 2. There were, moreover, shearing houses, with pits for washing the sheep, and the shearing time was one of festivity and rejoicing. Absalom prepared an entertainment at the shearing place, to which he invited Ammon and slew him when his " heart was merry with wine." Nabal prepared a feast for his shearers, and from the provisions Abigail took two hundred loaves, and two bottles of wine, and five sheep ready dressed, and five measures of parched com, and a hundred clusters of raisins, and two hundred cakes of figs, as a propitiatoiT offering to David. The gathering in of the vintage and the harvest, and the conclusion of the sheep- 10 THE SIILEP. shearing, have in all times been regarded as seasons of rejoicing. Burder, in his " Oriental Literature," says that Cecrops, the founder of the kingdom of Athens, " ordained that the master of every family should after harvest make a feast for his servants, and eat together with those who had taken pains together with him in tilling the ground." This custom once prevailed in our island : we formerly kept harvest-home in a style of true hospitality, but " old times are changed, old manners gone," and the custom is passing into desuetude It does not appear, as far as we can learn, that the Israel- itish shepherds ever clothed their sheep, nor that it was practised in Italy. It would, appear, how- ever, that this custom prevailed in some parts of Greece. " Pursuing our walk (in the neighbour- hood of Athens)," says Anacharsis the younger, " we passed a numerous flock of sheep, preceded and followed by dogs to drive away the wolves ; a covering of sldn was wrapped round each sheep. This practice, which has been borrowed from the Megareaus, defends the wool from the filth which might otherwise detile it, or prevents it from being torn by the hedges. I know not whether it contri- butes to render tlie wool finer, but I can affirm that the wool of Attica is extremely fine." In some countries this practice, to a certain extent, still pre- vails. According to Dr. Anderson, the inhabitants of the Ukraine and Podolia, when a prettily-marked lamb is born, sew it up in a sort of vest fitted so closely that it presses the curls of wool to the skin. This vest is enlarged as the animal grows, and is also wetted every day with warm water. The wool thus treated forms into ringlets A\liich remain per- manently in curl, and the animal is killed at an earlier or later period, according to the material mtended to be produced, viz. whether a short, glossy nap for ornamental purposes, or a thicker and longer nap ; for warm winter clothing. Though we call the sheep hi its state of domestication a wool-bearing animal, we must not forget that many breeds are covered with a mixtui-e of wool and coarse hair, the latter predominating. To this point, and to others connected with the original wild state of this animal, we shall hereafter advert; all we wish to observe here is, that its improvement as a wool-bearer appears to have been not only rapid, but to have commenced in remote antiquity. We have already alluded to the sheai'ing of sheep in patriarchal times. These sheep were not all white; some were brown or black, and some parti- coloured. We need scarcely allude to Laban's agreement with Jacob, that the latter should keep as his ovra property all the riug-straked, speckled, spotted, and brown produce of the flock which he fed, but we may observe that in the sheep gene- rally there is a tendency to revert from white to a dark colour, and to acquire spotted markings about the limbs and head; and, indeed, on some of our own breeds the head and limbs are brown. This tendency was not unnoticed by the Roman writers, and hence Virgil directs that if woollen manufac- tures be the breeder's aim, the flocks chosen should have white soft fleeces ; and that a ram, though he be himself of the purest white, under whose moist palate a black tongue lurks, must be rejected, lest he should sully the fleeces of the lambs with dusky brown spots. It was, then, in times of antiquity, as in modern days, that the sheep was valued for its fleece ; the goat was hardier and perhaps gave more milk, but the fleece of the sheep rendered it peculiarly valuable. We have seen that in ancient days it was felted into stuff, spun and woven into cloth, and that some breeds were noted for the fineness of their wool. Hair and wool are not mere modifica- tions of each other, for most quadrupeds have both wool and hair for their clothing ; but the prepon- derance of the one over the other differs materially in various species, and may be altered by climate and other influencing causes. Abundance of wool is mixed with the hair of the camel, the deer, the bison, and the aurochs ; even the feline race are not destitute of it : it abounds in the fur of the hare, the beaver, the musquash, the arctic fox, the chin- chilla, and other animals, but is more or less over- layed by hair. Wool felts ; now hair, however long, fine, or delicate it may be, does not possess the felting quality. In what, then, consists the pro- perty of the one, and the absence of it in the other '? In structural peculiarities. JMany are the theories upon which writers have attempted to account for the felting of wool — the attraction of cohesion ; the elasticity of the fibres bent in every direction, and prevented fi'om re- turning to their original length by the adhesion of other fibres ; the property w-hich certain hairs and vegetable filaments have of attaching themselves more and more to each other, in proportion as the fabric into which they are united is beaten, the fibres entangling each other in circles, and by their elasticity striving to return to their original condition ; these, and modifications of similar theories, were accepted as a sufficient explanation. M. Monge was the first who ventured to assert that a barbed or feathered edge must be the structure of the surface of wool ; that the surface is formed of lamellse, or little plates, which cover each other from the root to the point, as the scales of a fish or the back scales of a snake ; and on this theory, the truth of which M. Monge assumes, he explains the mechanism of felting as actually as though he had himself seen the serrations or scales on the surface of the fibre. It was reserved for the late eminent veterinarian, Mr. Youatt, to demonstrate the peculiarity in question. Mr. Youatt thus announces his discovery : — " On the evening of the 7th of February, 1835, Mr. Thomas THE SHEET. 11 Flint, woollen manufacturer, resident at Leeds; Mr. Symonds, clothing agent, of Cateaton Street, Loudon ; Mr. T. Millington, surgeon, of London ; an esteemed friend, Mr. E. Brad}', veterinary surgeon, at that time assisting the author in his practice ; Mr. W. H. Coates, of Leeds, veterinary pupil ; Mr. Powell, the maker of the microscope ; and the author himself (Mr. Youatt), were assem- bled in the parlour. A fibre was taken from a Merino fleece without selection, and placed on the frame, to be examined as a transparent object. A power of 300 (linear) was used ; and, after Mr. Powell, Mr. Plint had the first ocular demonstra- tion of the irregularities in the surface of the wool, the palpable cause of the most valuable of its properties, its disposition to felt. The fibre thus looked at assumed a flattened ribbon-like form ; it was of a pearly gray colour, with faint lines across it ; the edges were e\'idently hooked, or, more pro- perly, serrated ; they resembled the teeth of a fine saw. These were somewhat irregular in different parts of the field in view, both as to size and num- ber. The area of the field was one-fortieth of an inch in diameter. By means of a micrometer we divided this into four, and we then counted the number of serrations in each division. Three of us counted all foiu- divisions, for there was a differ- ence in some of them. The number was set down privately, and it was found that we had all esti- mated it at fifteen on each division. Having mul- tiplied this by four, in order to obtain the whole field, and that by forty, the pi-oportionate part of an inch of which the field consisted, we obtained as a result that there were 2400 serrations in the space of an inch, all of which projected in the sarhe direction, viz., from the root to the point." The diameter of the fibre was ascertained to be l-750th of an inch. "We next endeavoured to explore the cause of this serrated appearance, and the nature of the iri'egularities on the surface which might possibly account for the production of these tooth-like projections. We therefore took another fibre, and mounted it as an opaque object." After some difficulty Mr. Powell succeeded, "and we were presented with a beautiful glittering co- lumn, with lines of division aci'oss it, in number and distance seemingly corresponding with the serrations that we had observed in the other fibre, which had been viewed as a transparent object. It was not at once that the eye could adapt itself to the brilliancy of the object, but by degrees these divisions developed themselves, and could be accu- rately traced. They are not so marked as the iii- verted cones which bat's wool presented, but they were distinct enough, and the apex of the superior one, yet comparatively little diminished in bulk, was received into the excavated base of the one immediately beneath, while the edge of this base, formed into a cup-like shape, projected, and had a serrated or indented edge, bearing no indistinct resemblance to the ancient crown." All these projecting edges pointed in a direction from the point to the apex. The true cause, then, of the felting property of wool, and at the same time its distinguishing cha- racter when contrasted with hair, consists, as the microscope demonstrates, in its external sen-ated structure. When viewed through a microscope of great power as a transparent object, the fibre of wool assumes a ribbon-like appearance, with the edges serrated ; but these serrations, when the fibre is viewed as an opaque object, are found to result from the presence of a succession of inverted cones, encii-cling a central stem, the apex of the superior cone being received into the cup-like base of the inferior one ; each cup-like cone has project- ing and indented edges, and' is further resolvable into distinct scales or leaves, set regularly around the central stem, like the scaly petals of some flowers. These scales vary in number, size, and degree of projection, in the wool of different ani- mals. In some instances these scales are pointed, in others rounded. In the wool of the bat these circlets are so decided as to produce the appearance of a series of cups placed one in another, and having indented edges. Though hair is covered with scales or rugosities, it has no serrations or tooth-like projections. The hair of the tiger, for example, is covered with fine scales like those on the back of a sole, while the wool, which is beautifully fine, being only the thou- sandth part of an inch in diameter, has numerous and distinct serrations, amounting to 2560 in the space of an inch. In the wool of the bear, and of the Italian wolf-dog, the serrations are distinct and numerous. The human hair, as ascertained by Mr. Gill, is of a cylindrical form, and covered with scales or rugosities, but without serrations. Dr. Goring, indeed (see Brande's Quarterly Journal, 1820, p. 433), describes the appearance of the hair of the human head as being indented with teeth, somewhat resembling those of a coarse round rasj), but extremely irregular and rugged ; he states that these all incline in one direction, like those of a file, viz. from the origin of the hair towards its extremity. " It is singular," says Mr. Youatt, " that although many years have passed, and the microscope has been singularly improved since Dr. Goring observed this structure of the hair, and almost every one who possessed an instrument of much power has been eager to gaze on this new discovery, no person has been so fortunate as to detect a single serration on its edge." A true ser- rated surface, according to Mr. Youatt, is the cha- racter of wool only. The wool of the rabbit is fine, with sharp angular serrations to the number of 2880 in the inch, being 160 more than in the highly valuable and felting Saxon wool. The fibre, 12 THE SHEKP. however, has fewer curls. Tlie hair of the rabbit varies from l-250th to l-300thpart of an inch hi diameter, and is covered with a scaly incrustation, but cannot be said to be serrated. In the seal the wool is abundant beneath the compact hairs, and is exceedingly fine, but the serrations are few and far apart ; the hair, having about nine times the diameter of the wool, is beau- tifully covered with close scales, but there is not the vestige of a serration. In the wool of the bear the serrations are found to present a curious character ; they resemble many spines projecting at irregular distances, and at an exceedingly acute angle. The serrations in the wool of the Italian ■wolf-dog are superficial and irregularly placed, some resembling small spines, others looking like rounded prominences. When this wool is viewed as an opaque object, each cup appears to be com- posed of two, and sometimes three leaves or In fine, the differences between hair and wool, according to Mr. Youatt, may be summed up as follows : — The fibre of wool is crisped or curled, the curls increasing with the fineness and felting pro- perty of the wool, and in addition to this its sui-- face is decidedly serrated. On the contrary, hair, though sometimes curled, has its surface only scaly or rugose, and never truly serrated ; and hence it is that hair, though it will entangle and harle, will not felt into a compact mass. As respects chemical composition hair and wool are alike. We have already said that in a fibre of Merino wool 2400 serrations may be counted in the space of an inch. In a fibre of Saxon wool, finer than the Merino, and of acknowledged superior felting quality, 2720 serrations have been counted in the inch. A fibre of Southdown wool, the felting powers of which are inferior to those both of the Merino and Saxony, was found to present only 2080 serrations in the space of an inch ; and a fibre of Leicester wool, which is inferior in its felting property to the Southdown, presented only 1860 serrations in the space of an inch. It is, then, on these serrations, combined with its spirally curling form, every fibi-e being twisted into numerous cork-screw-like gyrations, its soft- ness, and its elasticity (or disposition to submit to some elongation, or under other circumstances to contract), that wool owes its powers of felting ; that is, of forming an unwoven, but compact, sti'ong, and perfect tissue — a tissue, if we may so term it, known in the earliest ages, and of which, as we have previously stated, we have seen an Egyptian, or perhaps Grseco-Egyptian, specimen, covering a mummy obtained at Tliebes. Tlie process of felting is simple ; a felted substance is the ground- work of beaver hats, and the mode in which this is produced may be seen at any hat manufactory. Without entering into minute details, we may observe that the foundation of a good hat is made generally of about eight parts rabbit's fur, three parts Saxony wool, and one part llama or vicugna wool, termed red wool. The whole of this is first bowed. The bow is an ashen staff six or seven feet in length, having a strong cord of catgut stretched over bridges at two ends. The bow is suspended by a string attached to its middle, and fastened to the ceiling, so as to hang nearly on a level with the work-bench, the materials being laid on the bench, first separately, and then mixed to- gether, the bower grasping the staff of the bow with his left hand, .-uid plucking the cord with his right by means of a ]iii it' wnml, thus causes the string to vibrate rapidlyagninst the wool and fur. This process being continued for a certain time, all the original clots, or assemblages of filaments, ai-e perfectly opened and dilated, and the fibres flying upwards when struck, are, by the dexterity of the workman, made to fall in nearly equable thickness on the bench, presenting a very light and soft layer of material. Simple as this operation may appear, it requires long practice for the attainment of profi- ciency in it. The next stage consists in dividing the bowed materials into two triangular portions, and subjecting each to pressui'e, first with a wicker frame, and afterwards by the hands, the layer being covered with leather or oilskin ; the fibi-es by this operation begin to felt, they are brought into closer and closer contact, the serrations link together, the fibres intertwine, and a coherent fabric is formed. In like way two edges of each piece or batt are afterwards locked together, the surface of one batt being kept from .3oming in contact with that of the other, by means of a piece of paper. Thus a conical hollow cap is formed, ready for a still more perfect degree of felting. It is now taken to the hatter's kettle. Imagine a large kettle, open at the top, having a fire beneath it, and eight planks ascending obliquely from the margin, so as to form a sort of octagonal work- bench, five or six feet in diameter, at which eight men may work ; the planks are made of lead near the kettle, and of mahogany at the outer part, and at each part a workman operates on a conical cap, until the process of felting or planking is completed. The kettle or cauldron contains hot water, slightly acidulated with sulphuric acid, in which the cap is dipped from time to time, and after each dipping laid on the felting plank and rolled and unrolled, worked, twisted, pressed, and rubbed with a piece of leather or wood tied to the workman's hand ; it is also rolled from time to time with a rolling-pin, dipped again, and again worked and rolled ; con- siderable skill is required in making the felt of equal thickness, or of regulating the thickness where additional substance is requisite. When this felting process has been continued for about two hours, it is found that the heat, moisture, pressure, and manipulation, have reduced the cap to one-half of its former dimensions, its thickness being increased in a proportionate degree. It is now fairly felted, and assumes the appearance of a close, stout, tough, fabric, ready to undergo farther pro- cesses ; into which, however, as our object is merely to explain the process of felting, we shall not enter. We have here described a pure felt ; but the process of felting is carried into operation even in woven fabrics, as, for example, in bi-oad-cloth, of which the best is made of fine Saxony wool. This cloth when fresh from the loom, besides being replete with oil requisite for the manufacture of the raw material, is very open, with the threads apparent, and would neither wear well nor look well ; it is sent to the fulling mill, there it is first purified in troughs of water mixed with argillaceous earth from all the oil with which it is imbued ; it is passed through rollers, and washed thoroughly, and this being done, it is properly soaped and put into the fulling mill ; in this mill, by the conjoint influence of moisture and pressure, the open tissue closes, the threads are brought close together, they cohere, a felting process has taken place, and the result is a woven fabric, the fibres of which are felted together. The cloth has, however, greatly contracted ; it is thicker, closer, and softer than i't was previously, aud when cut in any direction show's no disposition to unravel. Even when, by wearing, cloth becomes thin and thi-ead-bare, it will not unravel, though the slightest pull suffices to tear it. No one is ignorant of the fact that uew flannel of every description shrinks or contracts greatly when first washed, and more or less on each subsequent occasion ; the washing in hot water produces a partial felting, the threads and fibres are brought closer together and more firmly interlocked, and the fabric is thickened.* The fibre of wool varies not only in the number and acuteness of its serrations but in several other important particulars, depending upon breed, food, temperature, and health. Wool, like hair, grows from a secreting vascular bulb or root seated below the cutis ; from this bulb it is gradually evolved : each filament passes through a canal of reflected integument, and emerging from the surface of the skin continues to grow till it has acquired its full development. As each filament of wool, at least * It may be asked why wool does not fell when on the back of the sheep ? Under eertain circumstances it will do so ; but as the fibres in their natural state are all directed paialhl to each olher from the skin, and as the serrations of each fibre are directed from the base to the estiemity of the fibre, the fibres he in close contact together without the serr.itions becoming interlocked ; for wool will not Iclt unless the fibres are reversed relatively to each other ; the points of the sen-ati.ms cannot catch hold of each other, they do not oppose each other. But let a portion of wool be divided, and Its filament scattered loosely into everv possible direction, as by the bow ot the halter, and then be pressed and worked, the feltin" begins immediately. '^ IE El'. ig in the sheep, pushes itself through the pore of the skin, it becomes smeared with a saponaceous secretion which, from its adhesiveness and colour is called the yolk. This yolk is a peculiar secretion of the skin ; it is not mere inspissated perspiration, and it is evidently intended to nourish the wool and to mat it together without felting, in order that the whole fleece may form a compact and warm covering. The secretion of this yolk varies as to abundance in diflerent breeds ; it is profuse in the Merino sheep and in most other fine-woolled breeds, but in districts where the cold is severe it is more or less deficient. Certain parts of sheep are more freely supplied with this secretion than others ; it is most abundant on the breast and shoulders! It has been observed that where there is a deficiency of this secretion that the fibre of the wool is dry aud harsh, and that the fleece becomes thin and hairy, while, on the contrary, where it is in natural quantity the fleece is soft, full, strong, and oily. Where it is deficient a remedy is sougiit by smear- ing the sheep with a mixture of tar and oil. Mr. Luccock states that the shepherd in the north finds this dirty coat of salve "as indispensably neces- sary to the good qualities of the fleece, as "it is to the health of the animal ; without it, the wool becomes hairy, thin, and light ; with it, the fleece is full, soft, and rich, possesses a sufficient quantity of healthy yolk, and the qualities and condition of the wool are wonderfully improved. From these circumstances we conclude that the yolk is not ouly necessary to the production of a valuable fleece, but is the very pabulum of wool. The j manner in which the yolk acts upon the wool is j not accurately known. Some have considered it as 1 a superabundance of that substance which forms the filament, and which, by some unknown process while the pile is gro^^^ng, is consolidated into a transparent mass ; while others conclude, perhaps more reasonably, that it is a peculiar secretion that exudes through the skin, and by intermingliucr with the pile renders it soft, pliable, and healthy" aff'ectiug It much in the same way as oil does "a thong of leather, when kept immersed in it and joerfectly saturated. In general this substance has been noticed without any reference to the breed of the animal, or the qualities of the fleece which It hears, sometimes as perfectly disregarded as the sand and hay-seed which are accidentally mingled with the pile ; yet the disposition to produce this valuable soap is certainly as important as some other characteristics of the sheep and ought not to be overlooked when we describe 'their difl'erent varieties, or select them for our farms "— Luccock on Wool. _ The yolk, as it is termed, being saponac. ous, is_ easily removed by washing in water. It consists ot an animal oil with potass and lime, and in unwashed fleeces has been f.u.nd to constitute 14- THE SHEEP. about half the weight of the whole; this is the usual allowance of weight to the wool buyei- on fleeces which are sold without having been washed. After washing, the fleece still retains a portion of oil or fatty matter, which was not in combination with the alkali. The purest fleece greases the hands when felt and examined by the touch. From this secretion termed the yolk, let us turn to the fibre of the wool, or the staple as it is termed, and consider the characters which it ought to exhibit, irrespective of its serrations, which, as may be expected, are the fewest in long wools, which are not well adapted for felting. Filaments of wool taken from a healthy sheep, when cleaned from impurities, present a beautifully polished and glittering appearance. When viewed by the aid of a powerful achromatic microscope the iibre is often even brilliant, especially along its centre. The section of the fibre is circular, and the fibre is generally larger at the extremity and at the root than in other parts. There is a remarkable semi-transparency in the fibre of sound healthy wool in general, in strong contrast with the opacity of the hairs, or kemps, which occasionally lessen the value of the fleeces of sheep of good breed, improperly treated. In neglected, half-stai-ved, and diseased sheep, the wool assumes a dilferent appearance ; the filaments are no longer brilliant and semi-trans- parent, but are pale, dull, more or less opaque, and dry or withered ; such wool is valueless. It some- times happens that breaches occur in the filaments ; that is, dry, contracted, dull portions, of a longer or shorter extent, between two portions of sound, brilliant, and properly serrated filament. This breach is evidently the result of a failure in the health and vigour of the sheep, at the time in wliich the portion of wool in question was in the act of growth. Mismanagement, injudicious change of pasturage, and various other causes, may have affected tlie sheep in the first instance, and so led to the deterioration of its fleece. Breachy wool snaps under the operation of the carding comb, and even should it not, it renders the tissue or fabric into the manufacture of which it enters, of very inferior quality. A practised wool-stapler will detect breachy wool immediately, even without the aid of the microscope. With respect to the wool of the llama, vicugna, and alpaca, the filaments are far more opaque than are those of the fleece of sheep ; they are, in fact, of a different character, and have a smooth and silky texture. Fuieness of filament is one of the qualities on which the value of wool greatly depends ; the fine- ness of wool varies in different bi'eeds of sheep, and is much influenced by soil and climate. In hot countries, the wool, often greatly mixed with hair, is coarse ; while in cold countries the fleece is finer, closer, and warmer, and well calculated to defend the animal against the inclemencies of winter. If, however, the sheep of a cold climate be stinted in their food as the winter conies on,^ the wool, though fine, will be deficient in weight, strength, and usefulness. On the contraiy, if the sheep be well kept, the wool will not only be fine, but sound, bright, and strong ; the fleeces will weigh well, they will remunerate the sheep-farmer, and do him credit. Wool may be considered as coarse when tlie diameter of the filament exceeds the five hundredth part of an inch ; it is fine when within this admeasurement; and very fine when not exceeding the nine hundredth part of an inch in diameter, as in picked specimens of the best Saxony wool. The quality of pasturage influences the quality and fineness of the wool ; this is a fact which has been long known. "Fuge pabula Iseta," avoid rich pastures, says Virgil, if you breed sheep for their wool. The best breed of sheep, if en- closed in rank deep pastures, or if fed on artificial food and thus fattened rapidly and highly, will exhibit a deterioration of the fineness of the wool ; if, on the contrary, sheep be starved, the wool is cLry, weak, and destitute of brilliancy: it is, in fact, a breach from root to apex. The finest-woolled sheep will maintam themselves in tolerable con- dition where the coarse-woolled breeds Avould starve, and, when put into better pasturage, will fatten far more quickly and kindly than the latter ; but rich pasturage and fine wool are not the con- comitants of each other. In the establishment of the new Leicesters, for example, the wool was sacrificed to the carcase ; this was acknowdedged by all ; indeed, Mr. Bakewell was of opinion that w^eight of carcase was of the first consideration, and that the fleece was of secondary importance, and upon this principle he proceeded, neglecting the wool and aiming at the establishment of a breed, in which a disposition to fatten, and a pro- duction of the greatest portion of meat, with the smallest quantity of bone and offal, shoifld be the chief characteristics. We must not suppose that the wool on every part of a sheep is alike in fineness ; it diff'ers con- siderably. That on the side of the neck, or the shoulders, back, and ribs, is the finest ; that on the thighs and haunch is coarser ; on the neck, breast, and under parts generally it is still more so. A single sheep, as will be at once perceived, bears wool adapted for diff'erent purposes, and the as sortment of the fleece into different poitions, is one part of the business of a wool-stapler. In this work practice make the eye and hand perfect, and the division into parcels, according to the fine- ness of the staple, is quickly effected, and that without hesitation or mistake ; as the locks ai'e sorted, they are thrown into baskets from six to ten or twelve in number. The fleeces of short- woolled sheep are usually divided into ten lots, of varying degrees of quality, from the first to the last, viz. the picMock or picked locks, the j'rime, the choice, the super, the head or wool of the head, the downrights, the seconds from the throat and breast, the ahh, the livery, and the short coarse wool the refuse of all. The first, or iucklock, is small in quantity, and cannot be obtained from in- ferior fleeces. The greater part of a good South- down fleece would go into the 2^rime, choice, and super parcels. The other qualities of wool are soundness and traeness of staple, softness, and elasticity. By trueness of staple, is meant a wool as equal in the fineness of its filaments on every part of the body as possible, a freedom from irregularities in the fibre, from knots, breaches, and also from an admixture of long hairs. By soundness of staple is meant a due degree of strength, more especially of importance in the long combing-wools ; for if in the act of combing the fibres be broken, they are useless. In sickly sheep the filaments are often very tender, and in old ewes, after the age of six, the filaments of wool being sparingly lubricated with the yolk, are often dry, brittle, and inelastic ; it shrivels when I washed, is difficult to spin, and deteriorates the quality of the fabric in which it is employed. Wool that clots or felts on the back of sheep which are neglected or half starved, may be re- garded as unsound ; this felting generally com- mences in the winter season, and after the fleece has been saturated with rain, and, unless the masses of felt fall off and separate from the wool beneath, the process goes on increasing until shearing time. To unravel these masses of felt is almost impossililc, and the wool moreover is poor. With souniliKss, s,,iiiicss must be associated. Softness is partly .1.']m ndent on fineness of fibre, but perhaps more so on a full suj^ply of yolk ; this natural unguent defends the fibres from the action of the air and sun, and from dust : where it appears to be deficient, a thorough salving with an ointment of tar and butter has been found very efficacious, and the northern breeders com- monly have recourse to it. It perhaps excites a secretion of the yolk, or, what we think more pro- bable, acts as a substitute for it. It certainly ren- ders the wool rich and pliable, as the experience of the best farmers has satisfactorily proved, and its application is strongly recommended bv Mr. Bakewell, who asserts that investigation and "trials have confirmed the benefits resulting from its ap- plication. It has been observed that the wool of sheep fed upon chalky ground is apt to be harsh and desti- tute of pliability. The dust of the chalk fills the fleece and acts as a drier ; it causes the fibre to shrivel, it unites with the yolk, renders it ineffi- THE SHEEP. IQ. cacious, and foiins an inert substance which the first heavy shower washes away. Thus the fleece is deprived of its natural pabulum and unguent ; it becomes dry, loses its softness, and is thereby rendered of inferior value. This deterioration of the wool also occurs in sheep fed on tracts of lime- stone. Mr. Bakewell observes, that in certain parts of Derbyshire the change from a limestone surface to one of silicious grit or sandstone is often very abrupt, so that two adjoining farms, separated by a brook, may be situated, one on a stratum of the former, the other on a stratum of the latter ; and he adds, that the difference of the wool from two flocks of sheep of the same breed, fed re- spectively on the two farms, especially as it regards softness, is most distinctly marked, insomuclfthat the farmer would ask and obtain Is. or Is. &d per pound more for the wool grown on the grit than for that grown on the limestone. With the pliability of wool should be conjoined elasticity. The two pro- perties should balance each other. A filament of wool will be found to consist of a series of gyra- tions or minute spiral curves. When extended and brought straight, it will, when freed, return to Its original condition ; it is to the just union of fineness, softness, and flexibility, that the beauty pliancy, and delicacy of the finer woollen stuffs are omng. We may crumple them and twist tliem but they show no creases ; the fabric, exquisitely delicate as it is, recovers itself. Such fabric al- ways falls into beautiful and permanent folds By the application of heat, and the operation of different modes of dressing, new and peculiar twists or curis may be given to the fibres of wool • the innate elasticity of the substance of the fibres thus treated, enables them to retain the new form into which, if we may so speak, they have been tortured. The fanciful twnsted, curied, or knotted naps, raised upon various cloths, maintain their character m consequence of the elasticity of the fibre of the wool. If a knitted worsted stocking be unravelled, the yarn shows by its zigzag form the use to which it has been applied ; it is elastic- if drawn straight and elongated for an instant it reassumes its zigzags and contracts, and will maintain this condition with the utmost pertina- city. Elasticity is, in fact, one of the most valuable properties of wool ; it stamps a peculiar character upon all fabrics composed of this material, and is besides essential to the due working of wool into a pure felt, or of cloth into semi-felted condition In speaking of the form of the fibres of wool we observed that the basal portion of each fibre 'and its apical portion generally, exceed in size the intermediate portion. This, we think, may be readily explamed. We are alluding to sheep which have been previously shorn; the shearing leaves the end of each fibre abrupt, tnmcate and close to the skin. This operati^i' tS:;;:;£; -^ 16 THE SHtKI'. warm weather ; there is increased vascular action in the skin ; it renews the secretion of wool vi- gorously; the material is abundant; hence a large filament begins to shoot forth ; by-and-bve the se- creting bulb becomes less active ; winter ap- proaches, and, as the cold comes on, the filament becomes more attenuated as it grows, for the pores of the skin contract; but when spring returns, the energy of the secreting bulb is renewed, the ])ores of the skin open, and the growing filaments acquire an increase of thickness ; hence tlie basal and apical portions of each filament, the produce of the warmer months, exceed the intermediate portion, the produce of autumn and winter. In warm climates the filaments of the wool of the sheep are thicker than in our colder latitudes ; the interstices between them are wider, and they do not combine to form so close and warm a covering as does a fleece composed of delicate filaments. This diminution of bulk in the fibre increases the value of the fleece, while it tends to the comfort of the animal ; of course we suppose that the cold is not accompanied by starvation, for if this be the case, the fibre, delicately' fine as it may be, will prove worthless, being weak, dull, and dry — in fact one long breach from base to apex. In this point of view the fleece of the sheep may be regarded as a sort of self- registering thermometer; the filaments indicating, here by their comparative thickness, there by their tenuity, the variations of atmospheric tetnperature which have occurred durin" their growth. In the Merino sheep of our island the filaments of wool, as they first shoot up after shearing, have been observed to be pecu- liarly strong and coarse, giving little promise of tlie fineness and softness of the fibre produced as winter advances. Fi'om this circumstance we may naturally infer that the plan of pasturing sheep in cool and shaded situations, during the heat of sum- mer, tends to the benefit of the wool. It was the custom of the ancients, as we have seen, to lead their flocks, during the midday fervour, beneath shady rocks and spreading trees — spots which the animals, if left to themselves, will naturally seek. Who has not seen a flock of sheep taking their meridian siesta on a hot day of June, July, or August, beneath the broad screen of some clump ■ of trees, or of some lordly oak, or luxuriant beech ! With respect to the wool of the lamb, we may observe that its filaments are not truncate at the apex, but pointed ; this slender point, liowever, becomes gradually thickened, and the rest of the filament as it grows is influenced, as we have de- scribed, by the temperature of the season. This pointed character is seen in tlie fibres of the wool of the lamb, whether shorn during the first sum- mer, or left till the second. In the latter case it is called Hogget wool. The classification and peculiar properties of the different kinds of wool, under the terms loicj, middle, and short, we shall hereafter consider when we treat of the breeds of sheep which each sort respectively characterizes. Our aim at pre- sent is to illustrate the early connection of the sheep as a domestic animal with the human race, — to show the value in whicli it has been held by primitive people whose dwellings were rude tents, and by the civilized communities of towns and cities, both of ancient and modern times, — to explain the reasons why this value has been and ever will be placed upon it, whether we regard it as a flesh- bearing or a wool-bearing animal ; and to give a few details relative to the fleece for which it has so long been celebrated. The riches of the an- cient world, when man began to multiply over the face of the earth, were flocks and herds ; in process of time silver and gold became their represen- tatives. The word pecunia, money, or personal property generally, is derived from pecns. a flock ; and he' was, anciently, the richest man whose posses- sions in flocks and herds were the most extensive. We cannot then be surprised, that the rearing of cattle, and the culture of flocks, have engaged alike the attention of the statesman, the philoso- pher, and the practical man ; nor that poets should have simg of herds, and flocks, and tillage. CHAPTER II. NATURAL HISTORY OF THE SHEEP. From the preliminary observations— not, we trast, altogether uninteresting, of the preceding chapter, we shall now pass on to a consideration of the natural history of the sheep, glancing at that of the goat, its ancient companion in captivity and subjection to man ; its companion as a milk- givintr animal, as affording wool for the weaver, and flesh for the entertainment of guests.* * The flesh of the kid was esteemed a delicacy, as was that of the lamb also; allusions to both animals are common in the Scriptures. In the early ages, however, the flock was not diuii- Domestication has modified every animal whicli man has permanently reclaimed ; but the extent of this modification differs in almost every species. In the camel perhaps, the least trace of modifica- tion exists : this animal is still the same as what it was when Jacob, with his flocks and herds, his asses and camels (both milch camels, and camels of Dished by the slaughter of the kids or lambs, except u] on s) ccial occasions; when 'l>aac asked for vemion, or the Hish ol the young gazelle, Jacob substi.uted that of kid, which was prej-ared as a savoury dish. THE SHEEP. ft burden) met Esau ; aud we may therefore conjecture that the wild stock, now unknown, resembled its servile descendants. On the contrary, no species appears to have been so much modified as the dog, and yet there is no domestic animal of which so little is said in the ancient records. Both the sheep and the goat have been greatly modified, especially the former. In the earliest times, as we have said, they were wool-bearers ; aud though such no doubt were the wild stocks whence they descended, it was doubtless only in a partial de- gree, the under coat of wool being overlaid with stiff coarse hair, aud more redundant iu winter than in summer. Both the sheep and the goat are ruminating animals, with bifid hoofs, aud a complicated stomach resembling that of the ox, which has already been sufficiently described. (See ' THE Ox'.) They are the representatives respectively of two genera, oris and capra, closely resembhng each other, in most essentials, but nevertheless possessing their respective distin- guishing characters. Cuvier says that the goats ipact GOAT, OR CAPR Whole structuTe stronger and more < Limbs tliieker and more rigid . . Hoofs higher and more compact False (or lateral rudimentary) hoofs well developed . . . Head smaller and finer , . Facial line straight Ears shorter and rounded Tail short, flat, nude below Withers higher than croup Fore legs stronger than hind Croup sloped off Odorous Nose moister, nans short aud wide Horns of medial sire, keeled, and turned upwards . . . Kyes darker and keener Hair long and unequal Ba.k arched Bears change of climate well Is eminently curious, capricious, and confident . . . . Barks trees with its horns, feeding on the peel, and on aromatic herbs In figliting rears itself on its hind legs, and lets the weight of its body fall on the adversary " The goat and sheep," he adds, "have in com- mon hair and wool, no beard, no suborbital sinuses, evanescent muzzle, no inguinal pores, horns in contact at the top of the head, knees and sternum (breast) callous, angular aud transversely wrinkled horns, striated ears, two teats only in the female, horns iii both sexes, aud lastly, incisors of precisely the same form. " Of the various diagnostics, tben, proposed by Colonel Hamilton Smitb, it would seera that the following only can be relied on to separate ovis from ccqjra : — slender limbs, longer pointed ears, chaffron arched, nares long and oblique, very voluminous horns, laterally twined with double flexures. I should add myself the strong and invariable distinction, males not odorous, as opposed (capra) have their horns directed upwards and 1 backwards ; their chin is generally furnished with j a long beard, and the chafi"ron is almost always concave. The sheep (oris) have the horns directed backwards, and then sweeping more or less for- j wards with a spiral twist. The chaffron is gene- i rally convex, and they are destitute of a beard. "So little, however, do they deserve to be gene- rically separated from the goats, that they even produce together a mixed fertile race." Whether this hybrid race is really fertile inter se, or fertile ' only when crossed with one of the pure breeds, is doubtful. But granting the former, we cannot ' allow that tbe sheep and goat are specifically i identical, nor even that the two genera, ovis and capra. should be fused into one. I In a paper on some of the wild sheep and wild goats of the Nepal range by Mr. Hodgson, published in the Proceedings of the Zoological Society, Lon- don, 1834, he gives the following table of differen- tial characters between the genera oils a.ni capra, as the result of his own investigation. SHEEP, OR OVIS. Less so. Feebler and more slender. Lower and less so. Evanescent. Larger and heavier. Cnaffron arched. Longer and pointed. Longer, less depressed, and half nude only. Croup higher. Fore and hind equal. Croup higher. Not so. Less moist, longer and narrower. Horns very large, not keeled, and turned to the sides. Paler and duller. Short and equal. Back straight. Bears it ill. Is incurious, staid, and timid. j- Does not bark trees, and is less addicted to aromatics. \ In fighting runs a-tilt, adding the force of impulse to ( that of weight. to the males odorous of the genus ca/)m. But after all there are no physical distinctions at all equivaleiit to the moral ones, so finely and truly delineated by Buffon, and which, notwithstanding what Colonel H. Smith urges in favour of the courage aud activity of sheep, will for ever continue to be recognised as the only essential diagnostics of the two genera." With regard to these moral distinctions, though we admit them, as far as the domestic goat aud domestic sheep of Europe, arid perhaps of all countries, are concerned, the observation does not apply to the wild species of either genus, they are alike suspicious, wary, and watchful ; but when pushed to an extremity will turn with desperate resolution upon their antagonist, and endeavour 18 THE SHEEP. to hurl him do\vii the rock or precipice. We have known specimens of the Corsican mouflon very savage and uncontrollaLle in captivity, and ever ready to make a sudden assault. And be it ob- served, that when our domestic sheep is placed under circumstances -whicli render it in some measure dependent upon itself, as when depastured upon vast moorlands or mountain ranges, though it becomes very wikl yet it displays qualities which might not have been anticipated : the rams, in particular, often exhibit a sui-prising degree of boldness, and will assault a strange dog, or a fox which may have the temerity to attack the flock ; they form themselves into a phalanx and nm a- tilt upon their enemy, whose only chance of safety is in flight. We admit that our domestic goat is curious, and familiar ; it will play in mimic combat with men or dogs, to whom it is accustomed ; it is lively and animated, bold and intrusive, sometimes even extremely dangerous ; — but then, unlike the sheep, in our island at least, it is brought up as tlie companion of men, horses, and dogs, and thus learns confidence. Were the sheep thus educated, it would, to a certain degree at least, exhibit the same qualities though with less obtrusiveness. With respect to the physical qualities of the sheep and goat, we consider the wild races of the former, termed mouflons and argalis, quite equal in stature and bodily powers to the largest wild goat or ibex. Indeed, we know not any species of ibex which at all approaclies in size and power to the huge Siberian argali (of which a magnificent specimen adorns the British Museum), or the Rocliy Mountain sheep of North America. Mr. Hodgson's table of comparisons between the sheep and the goat, appears, we think, to be drawn too exclusively from the peculiar character- istics of the domesticated races ; and the same observation applies even more forcibly to Buffon's remarks on their moral distinctions. Again, Mr. Hodgson says, relative both to the sheep and goat, "no beard, no suborbital sinuses." Now with regard to the beard, always wanting in the sheep, it is more or less distinct in every species of true ibex which we have had the oppor- tunity of examining : but he is evidently hifluenced in this observation by the characters of the jharal of the Nepal range of hills, which he considers to be a wild goat. " This," he says, " is truly a goat, and is a variety of Capra .^Egagrus, agreeing in its horns with the Alpine race ; its head is closely shorn on all parts, and there is no vestige of a beard; there is, however, a copious flowing leonine mane cover- hig the whole neck and shoulders." — Trans. Zool. Soc. ; Land. 1833, p. 105. This animal, he after- wards observes, must not be confoimded with the ghoral (a capriform animal inhabiting the same range), the latter being ti-uly an antelope : its liorns are cylindrical, while those of the jharal are angular ; the latter is at first sight distinguished by a lai'ge flowing mane, of which thei-e is no vestige in the ghoral. (AiiteJojje, Goral. — Hard- wicke.J* But the jharal is not a true ibex or wild goat. It has a small naked muzzle, and there are Jour teats in the female ; there being only tuo in the sheep and goat. Mr. Ogilby places the jharal, or as he terms it, iharal, and an allied species from the Neilgherry hills, in the genus kemas. — Pro- ceeds. Zool. Soc; Lend. 1837, p. 81. As respects the absence of suborbital sinuses, both in the sheep and in the goat, Mr. Hodgson is in eiTor. These sinuses are indeed wanting iu the goat; but, as we believe Mr. Ogilby first pointed out, they are present in the sheep, and what is more tliey are large and deep ; the external orifice however is a mere slit, and unless specially sought for is not to be seen amidst the woolly fur or dense hair with which the face of the sheep or of the wild mouflon is invested. The sinus, how- ever, is incapable of being expanded and closed at will, contrary to what we find it in tlie common antelope. There is, besides, ,.^^. , another diff"erence be- tween the goats and the sheep ; the latter hive interdigital pits which are wanting in the former. These pits, A, i secrete an unctuous matter, the use of « hich is not very cleai They are present m many antelopes, but wanting in the ox tribe In the sheep, then but not iu the goits, there are interdigital pits, but neithei h\^e m guinal pores; iu both, the muzzle is small and haiiy, with the upper lip divided, and the dentition similar. Incisors ?^ canines °-=5, molars ^:zl Total, 3-2. Teats, two. In both the horns are persistent, and sheath a bony core, which is hollow, and communicates with extensive frontal sinuses. We may here say that though the chaifron of the sheep is characterized as being convex and that of the goat flat, we have seen the chaffron iu some goats very convex, with extensive froutal sinuses, sepai-ating to a great extent the two tables of the frontal bones. In our climate the goat is covered cliiefly with hair and the sheep with wool, but in intertropical regions the sheep loses its fleece, and becomes covered with hair ; while in certain cold localities, as among * An allied species, the thar {antelope ihar) nearly allii.(l to the Cambin-outan of Suinatfa (antdope sumaiivnsis. — Dtsmaresl) in- habits also tlie Nepal range. — See Frvceeds. Zool. Soc, 1S39, p. 85. 19 the mouiitauis of Thibet, the goat is defended by an uuder-coat of the finest wool. Both the sheep and the goat are gregarious, and are formed for elevated and rocky situations. The distinctive characters of the genus Ovis may be summed up as follows : — Horns massive, especially thick at the base, angular, more or less spirally twisted, with the points generally advancing forwards. No beard ; suborbital sinuses opening by means of a slit, and incapable of being expanded and closed alternately ; interdigital pits. Confining our attention for the present to the domestic sheep, which, now spread over the globe, presents us with innumerable varieties, some of strange aspect, the first question that suggests itself relates to its primitive source or origin. Are we acquainted with the wild stock from which it has descended? The opinion of many writers is that the wild mouflon or musimon of the rocky precipices of Sardinia and Corsica, is luidoubtedly the species whence it has descended. This is the opinion of Mr. Bell, who states that the sheep is one of our domestic animals which may be traced with tolerable certainty to a species still e.'i;isting in a state of nature, and sufficiently accessible to afford opportunities of comparison and even of experiment. This species he believes to be the Corsieau or Sardinian mouflon, the characters of which, he remarks, are such as to afford the most rea- sonable probability of the correctness of the opinion. Mr. Bennett advocates a modification of this theory ; he observes, that the mouflon of Corsica is the parent stock from which were derived most of the Eui-opean breeds, as has been proved almost to a demonstration, and that the origin of the Asiatic races, as numerous as the European, from the Siberian argali is equally certain. Now, the Corsican mouflon and the Siljeriau argali are two very distinct species — the latter being an animal of vast stature and robustness ; consequently, granting the views of Mr. Bennett to be correct, seeing that the sheep of Asia and of Europe inter- mk, the union of two separate species may pro- duce offspring fertile inter se. While, however, we allow that the offspring of allied species will be productive inter se, we cannot, in this instance, admit the correctness of Mr. Bennett's ideas re- lative to the origin of the sheep of Europe and of Asia; indeed, we think the tracing of the domestic sheep to its original source, so far from having been done with certainty, is a point upon which we are utterly at fault. Thousands of years have passed since the sheep was first reclaimed ; it has spread as a domestic animal throughout every quarter of the globe, and climate, food, and general cultivation have contributed to modify it, not only as regards horns and clothijig, but stature and proportions. As, however, many authors have ex- themselves confidently on the subject, and as the history of the various species of wild sheep, not yet thoroughly discriminated from each other, is both interesting and important, we shall at- tempt a brief monograph of the genus Ovis, which, we trust, will not be unacceptable. There is no part of the globe, if we except Australia and South America,* which has not an indigenous species of wild sheep. Pei'haps we should except Africa, for no true wild sheep in- habits that extensive continent, as far at least as we are aware. There is, however, in the moun- tains of Barbary, and Northern Africa in general, a species which most naturalists have associated with the true sheep, under the head of Ovis, and . wdiich is known as the aoiulad of the INIoors, the kehsch of the modern Arabians, and the tedal of the inhabitants of Nubia. This is the Ovis Tra- gelaplius of Pallas. It is not a true sheep, it is a sheep-goat, and stands intermediate between the genera ovis and capra. The horns are those of a wild sheep, being triangular and ringed, stout and massive, with a disposition to the spiral curve ; in other respects it is far from resembling any wild sheep. It has interdigital pits, but no sub- orbital pits or sinuses; its chatfron is concave, and the hair of the body is rather close. On the other hand it has no beard, but is i-emarkable for the quantity of long pendant hair, falling from the throat and under part of the neck, and from the chest and upper part of the fore-limbs. This hair is .from nine inches to a foot in length in the male, falling almost to the ground ; there is be- sides a mane along the back of the neck and on the withers, full and dense, and about three inches in depth ; the tail is I'ather long and tufted at tlie extremity, the general colour of the animal is dull yellowish brown. The male aqudad is a noble animal, considerably exceeding the female in sta- ture, and often three feet in height at the shoul- ders ; it appears, however, to vary in size, and the * At least no well-aiillicnticatcd species have been received from SdUlli America. B 2 20 THE SHEF.P. Oris Ornata, figured by il. (^ieoffroy St. Hilaire, in the great French worlt on Egypt, appears to be merely a small-sized individual. The aoudad is found in North Africa, generally above 18°; it roams the mountains of Sinai, and those Avhich border the Nile, to Ethiopia and Abyssinia, and is often represented very faithfully on the sculptured remains of ancient Egypt. It frequents the most rocky deserts, associating in small families, making the mountain pinnacles and inaccessible crag-s its home. Its activity is wonderful, exceeding even that of the chamois, and the chase is a work of peril and toil. A few are sometimes shot by the IMooi-s of Tunis, Tripoli, and other places along the northern coast of Africa, and the young are occasionally captured alive ; it is regarded as veni- son, and its flesh is m gieat esteem The female is horned as well as the mile The aoudad forms the type of the genus Am- viotragus* of Blyth, who, we think, has judi- ciously separated it both from the true sheep and the true goats. It is an animal which has been known from the earliest antiquity, and may be perhaps the akko, or wild goat, of Deuteronomy xiv. 5. Splendid specimens are preserved in the British Museum. Setting this animal aside, it would seem that the range of the wild species of the genus Ovis extends along the mountain ranges of Southern Europe, and through those of Central Asia, pass- ing northwardly to Kamtchatka, and thence through the Aleutian isles, to the northern and western portions of North America (the Eocky Mountains and California). Confining our attention to the true wild sheep, 01 mouflons, we may fiist notice the niouHon of Coisici and Siidinia {0ns Miisimon, Linn.) This species the Mou'lon m Musuion, tenants the Ml t TLON OF COR" rocky fastnesses of the two islniuls mentioned, and appears to exist in some of the Greek islands, and the countries of the Levant generally. Pliny mentions this animal, which, he says, occurs iii Spain, (it is said, but we know not how correctly, to linger still in the mountains of Murcia,) biit especially in Corsica, and he states that it is covered with goat-like hair ; and Strabo observes, * Speaking of the genus Ammotraqus, Mr. Blyth says, " It is character;7,ecl by the absence of auborbital sinuses lilce the goats, but diflers frum the latter in possessing interdigilal /o««a; as in other sheep. This difference between the qoats and 'sheep appeiirs to Lave been first noticed by Pallas, and has since been descanted upon by Professor Gene, in Vol. xxxvii. of the Mtmorie della Reak Academia delta Science di Torino. The faet of such a diver- sity 'in genera, so nearly allied in habitat as the goats and sheep, renders the problem of tlie utility of the structure in question somewhat difficult of solution. The species uooii which I found the subgcr :dly upon rather than that in Sardinia and Corsica are produced sheep called vnis)itoiies or vntsi)no7U's, which, instead of wool, produce hair like that of a goat. Gesner likens the hair of the mouflon to that of a stag ; the hair of the mouflon, however, is unlike that of the goat, and still less resembles that of the stag ; it is crisp, harsh, and closer set, not pressed to the skin, but standing out, and admirably caprine aspect when viewed alive. The male emits no stench as in the goats, the bleat is precisely like that of ovis, and the animal butts like a ram and not like a goat. Unlike the other admitted ■species of wild sheep, as well as the long-horned or true wild goats, it has a concave chatfron, and no markings on the limbs and face ; its tail is rather long, whifh is the case in no species of capra, and is also remarkable for being tufted at the extremity. The indigenous habitat, North Africa, is a further peculiarity in the genus in which it is here placed, though two species of wild goat respectively inha- bit Upper Epvpt, and the snowy heights of Abyssinia," — Proceeds. Zool. Hoc, 1840, p. 75. THE SHEEP. 21 adapted for preserving the body from culd ; under- neath this coat there are very fine hairs, forming an additional vestment. Mr. Bell, who regards this species as the origin of the domestic sheep, after remarking that the covering of the mouflon differs considerably in its appearance from that of the domestic sheep, adds, " it is customary to ac- count for the difference in the following manner : It is said by all the naturalists who have written on the subject, that the pelt of the mouflon con- sists of long hair, forming the apparent covering, and of a short soft wool beneath, which is only visible when the former is removed. It is therefore pre- sumed that by domestication this interior is de- veloped at the expense of the former, and becomes the woolly pelt of the domestic races. This, however, is totally erroneous. The longer hairs of the mouflon are, in their stnicture, as genuine wool as that of the sheep ; they are coarse and stiff it is true, and nearly straight, but they pos- sess the essential character of wool, in the imbri- cated scaly surface which gives to wool that remarkable felting property, upon which its pecu- liar utility in many cases depends. It is also somewhat waved, and it requires no considerable change to convert such a filament as this into fine curly wool. On the coutraiy, the short soft felt whicla lies at the root of this, is nothing more than e.x'tremeiy fine hair, uniform and smooth over its whole surface, and not assuming the slightest ap- pearance of the woolly texture. I have examined these two kinds of hair of the mouflon, from various parts of the animal, and have found no essential variation." If Mr. Bell be correct in his views respecting the character of the harsh pelt of the mouflon, we have here an example of an arrangement contrary to what prevails in other wild animals, as far at least as we know at present : in feline animals and in fur-bearing animals, as the beaver, the polecat, the ermine, the salde, the under coat is wool and "the external covering hair ; and tlie observation may be extended. Mr. Flint says that the fleece of the argali (mouflon) is thin in summer, but that in winter a fine wool fills up the interstices between the hairs, and protects the animal from the incle- mency of the weather. ]\Ir. Youatt thus speaks of the coveriug of the mouflon : — An argali (moaflon,) died at the gar- dens of the Zoological Society a little while ago, and Mr. Youatt, being then confined by illness, requested a very intelligent and obseivant friend to examine the proportion of wool which grew among the hair. He reported that there was not a particle of wool. Mr. Youatt was surprised at this, as the mouflon is described as having a win- ter coat at least of fine woolly down ; he therefore sent and requested a small portion of tlie pelt. The hair was long and coarse enough, but at its base was an exceedingly small quantity of crisped wool. There was so little of it that it could scarcely be detected on the pelt, but was clearly seen when a lock of the hair was cut off close to the skin and held up to the light. This goes far to explain the accounts that have been given of jjerfectly hairy sheep. We may here observe, that che specimen of a smooth close-haired domes- tic sheep, from Guinea we believe, is preseiTed in the British Museum ; its colour is a sandy red ; the legs and chest are marked with blotches of white ; there are no horns ; the ears are pendant ; the tail long ; and two tassels of skin hang from the throat. There are other haiiy varieties. Now, if we adopt Mr. Bell's opinion, we must regard the coarse rigid hair of the mouflon as wool, and the fine under coat as hair, and believe that it is from a modification of the former the sheep becomes a wool-bearer ; this we cannot admit ; — for, after all, will the external pelt of the mouflon felt ? We think not ; and moreover, we see no reason to believe that to this animal we are to look for the original stock of the domestic sheep. The mouflon is bold, active, and powerful, oc- cupying the most elevated mountain ridges, where it associates in considerable troops, which in win- ter descend for pasturage into the dells among the cliff's, or into a lower altitude. The troops are under the guidance of the old males ; and in December and January subdivide themselves into small flocks, each consisting of females, headed by a single male. At this time the males, when they meet, fight with the greatest obstinacy, one being often killed on the spot, in which case the troop headed by the vanquished combatant joins that of the conqueror. The females go five months with young, and generally produce twins, which they defend from all attaclis with the utmost courage. The female is less in stature than the male, and her horns are small and often wanting. The adult male stands about two feet three inclies at the back ; the chaffron is convex ; the horns are large, strongly marked with transverse rugre, especially at their base; they sweep spi- rally round, so as to describe about two parts of a circle, but never more ; the tail is very short, and naked below ; it is bowed forwards from base to point ; the general pelt is of a dull yellowish brown, mixed with some black hairs on the head, neck, shoulders, back, and outer parts of the thighs ; the dorsal Hue is darker; the throat, the fore- arms anteriorly, the tail, and a lateral line along the flanks, dusky black; as is also a line running backward from the commissure of the lips ; anterior part of the face, inside of the ears, shanks, belly, and croup-mark, white. In winter the pelt be- comes thicker and darker coloured, the markings being more decided. The young are of a more yellow tinge than the old, and the croup-mark is 22 THE SHEKP. of a pale yellow instead of being white. In tem- per and disposition the mouilon is extremely intractable and vicious ; and, though inferior in size to many domestic sheep, is far more powerful and energetic. Those which we have seen have been stupid and malicious ; indeed, it was not safe to approach them, as they would nish forward, and butt mth all their force, repeating their terrible blows with great rapidity; captivity, instead of rendering them tame and familiar, seemed to make them vicious and confident in their strength. It has been frequently asserted that the mou- flon breeds with the sheep ; it may do so in con- finement, but we are not aware of any instance of the kind taking place in the gardens of the Zoolo- gical Society ; nor does it appear to interbreed with the domestic sheep of the islands and dis- tricts which it naturally inhabits. Pliny it is true mentions a mixed breed between this animal and the domestic sheep, called Umbri, but of these we have no information. Mr. Blyth iui'orms us that the male mouflon is denominated in Corsica vuifro, and the female mufra, from which Buftbn, as is well known, foi-med the word mouflon. In Sardinia the male is called 7«»rro;n', and the female nmrva ; though it is not unusual to hear the peasants style both indiscriminately mufion, which (as Mr. Smyth remarks in his description of that island) is a corniptiou of the Greek ojjhion. There is a mouflon in Cyprus, figured and de- scribed by ]\IM. Brandt and Eatzeburg, from a specimen in the Berlin Museum, which Mr. Blyth considers distinct from the Sardinian animal, and to which he has given the scientific appellation of Ovis Ojjhion.— Proceeds. Zool. Soc, 1840. It dif- fers in being of a darker colour generally, there being no nifous cast on the pelt, and in the horns being smaller, and neither diverging so much nor assuming so spiral a curve. How far it is truly distinct, and not a mere variety, we have no means of ascertaining. The highest mountain ranges of Armenia and Persia are the native range of a noble species of mouflon, called the Armenian mouflon [Ovis Gme- linii, Blyth), which was described and rudely ijgured in the Reise durch Piussland (vol. iii.) of the younger Gmelin, and the skull and homs, forwarded by that naturalist to St. Petersburg, have been figm'ed and described by Pallas in his Spicelegia (fasc. xii. p. 15, tab. v. 1.) Fine specimens of the male, female, and young, from Erzeroom, are preseiTed in the museum of the Zoological Society. The Armenian mouflon equals an ordinaiy sheep in stature, but is covered with a remarkably short pelt (perhaps the summer cb'ess) of a lively chestnut colour, deepest upon the liack ; the limbs are ^\hitish, with a few traces of dark markings ; the under parts generally are whitish, except that on the male there is a line of black and somewhat lengthened hair running do\ra the front of the neck, and widening to a large patch on the breast. In both sexes a stripe of grizzled black, consisting of mingled black and white hairs, is jalaced above the knee-joint of the fore-limbs anteriorly ; the tail is small and slender. The homs of the male are subtrigonal, compressed, and veiy deep, with strongly-marked rugae ; they diverge backwai-ds, with a slight ai'cuation near the tips, wliich incline in- wards ; they measure about twenty inches over the curvature, and are ten inches in circumfei'ence at the base. The space round the eyes, and the muzzle, are whitish ; the chaifron is dusky. This elegant mouflon is a native of the elevated districts of Armenia and north-western Persia, where it occm-s in troops; the female breeds in March, producing two or even three lambs at a time. The males ai'e very pugniacious, especially during the month of September, and engage in desperate combats, insomuch that Gmelin saw spots completely strewed with homs that had been knocked oft" in these encounters, which often ended in the death of one of the parties. It would appear that a distinct and as yet undescribed mouflon or wild sheep inhabits the central parts of Persia, which Mr. Blyth thinks may possibly be the wild type of the domestic sheep. It is described by Su- John McNeill as having the horns contorted into more than one spiral circle ; and in his communication to Mr. Blyth, he adds, " I think I am not mistaken in supposing that I have had females of tliis species brought to me by the huntsmen, with small homs resembling those of the ewes of some of our domestic sheep ; but on reflection I find that I cannot assert this positively, though I retain the general impression." Until this species be more fully known, it is im- possible to give any decided opinion respecting it. One thing, however, is remarkable, it inhabits the same mountains as the paseng or wild gosX [Capra jEgagrm), the origin of our domestic races. There are many wild sheep or mouflons tenanting the mountains in the neighbourhood of Nishapore. Eraser [Journey through Khorasan) states that while in the village, a ram of this wild breed was killed by one of the hunters and brought to him as a present. He describes it as a noble animal, just what it might be conceived the finest sort of domestic ram would be in a state of nattu'e, bold, portly, and very strong; thick like a lion about the neck and shoulders, and small in the loins; covered with short reddish hair that curled closely about the neck and fore-quarters, and bearing an mnnense pair of crooked and twisted horns ; its flesh proved to be remarkably well-flavoured. Was this sheep the Otis Gmelinii, or was it a distinct species, and referable to that indicated THE SIIEEl'. ^3 above ? Uufortunately the details given are not sufficiently precise for us to say whether it was the Ovis Gmeknii or the contrary ; but the curled hair and the immense crooked hoi'ns are certainly points of difference between it and the specimens of Ovis GmeUiiil in the museum of the Zoological Society. A very remarkable mouflon is described by Mv. Vigne, as inhabiting the mountains of Little Thibet, where it is termed Sha ; it is also found iu the Sulimani range between India and Khoras- san, and is there known under the name of Koch. This species, the Ovis Vignei of Blyth, is allied to the Corsican moutlon, but is much larger and proportionally longer in the limbs. It has a con- spicuous fringe of lengtheued blackish hair down the front of the neck, and not lying close, as in the Corsican mouflon. According to Mr. Vigne, this species is about the size of a fallow-deer, and in general appearance, length of leg, and swiftness, resembles rather the deer than the sheep. No perfect specimens of this species exist in any of our museums ; specimens of the horns, however, have been received, of which a full-grown pair measm'es fully thirty- two inches over the cui'- vature, and eleven inches in cucumference at the base ; they are subtriangular, and do not spire, but diverge and describe three-fourths of a circle, pointing not forward but towards the back of the neck. In the horns of a yomiger animal, however, the spiral flexure is more decided ; but slight dif- ferences in the flexure of the horns occur in other species. " The general colour of the animal, to judge from an elaborately-finished painting, taken from a living individual in its native countiy by Mr. Vigne, to whom we are indebted for all we know concern- ing the species, is a mfous brown, apparently not so deep as in the common mouflon. The face is devoid of the rufous tinge of the body, and not terminated by a white muzzle; the belly is white, separated from the sides by a black lateral band, and the limbs are brown and not mottled, but with a whitish ring above each hoof, then a dark ring, and above this a little white posteriorly. The fringe in front of the neck is doubtless peculiar to the male, and the hairs of it would appear to be four or five inches long, and hang loosely. The tail is about six inches long, slender, and appa- rently resembling that of the Armenian rather than that of the Corsican mouflon." — Proceeds. Zoul. Soc, 1840, p. 71. According to Mr. Vigne, " vast numbers of this species ai-e driven down by the snow in winter to the branches of the Indus, near Astor, at the southern extremity of Little Thibet, where the river breaks through the chain of the Himalaya. I once (he adds) saw a young one apparently of this species in Persia, but tooli no memorandum of it at the time ; it was dirty and draggled, but I think was covered with short wool."* Mr. Hodgson describes a species of wild sheep under the name of Ndhoor, which inhabits the Kachan region of Nepal. This species is found also in Thibet, where it is denominated Sua [Ovis Nahoor, Hodgson). This species equals or exceeds the largest domestic sheep in stature, the adult male measuring thirty-two inches in height at the back ; the horns are pale, large hi the male, thick and spirally contorted ; small and compressed in the female, or even wanting. The general colour is dull browiiish-gray ; ]\Ir. Hodgson says of a dull slaty-blue, obscured with earthy-browi, in summer overlaid with a rufous tint ; inside of tlie limbs and hams yellowish-white, croup-mark and edge of the tail white ; horns from twenty to twenty-two inches measured along the curve, the points being directed upwards and inwards. The nahoor is bold and active ; but, according to IMr. Hodgson, all experiments to produce a breed be- tween this species and the common sheep have failed. A distinct species, the burrhel {Ovis Biirrhel, Ogilby ; Supplement to Catalogue of Mammalia in Mus. Zool. Soc, Lond. 1839) is a native of the snowy peaks of the Himalaya chain, at a vast altitude. It is smaller and more robust than the nahoor, with shorter ears, and very dark horns recurved, and presenting obsolete stripes. The general colour is dark rich chestnut brown, the face, chest, and front of the limbs being black ; a unique specimen exists in the museum of the Zoological Society, i-especting which we extract the following commimication from ]\Ir. Bicheno, in the Proceeds. Zool. Soc, 1838, p. 79 : — "It was kflled June 1st, 1836, by Thomas Smith, Esq., 15th Native Infantry, known in India as one of the most intrepid sportsmen and best shots in the country. He met with it in the Great Snowy Range, close to the Barinda Pass communicating with Chinese-Tartary, near also to the famous peak called Jaurnootrie, under which rises the river Jumna. He estimates the height at which he found the animal to have been from 15,000 to 17,000 feet. Humboldt, he thhiks, calls the Ba- rinda Pass 18,000 feet. The Hill-men call it Burrhal, and considered this specimen to have been seven years old by the horns. The cry was that of a tame sheep, and no animal is so difficult to approach." The subjoined is an extract from Lieut. T. Smith's Journal; — "I was at last repaid by seeing nine of them (the burrhels) at about 600 * In the Catalogue of the Specimens and Drawings of Mam- malia and Birds of N'epdl and Thibet, prei<€tited by B. H. Hodg- son, Esq., to the British Museum, (1846,) this species is given as identical with the banbhera or bhaaral of Hodgson, and the Ovis Hodgsonii of Blyth. Mr. Hodgson had previously described it as Ovis Ammonoides, Ovis Argali, and Ovis Amman. Reference is hereafter made to it. 24 THE SHEEP. yards, and they saw us. I attempted to get near ; but no ! They are ^¥ithout exception the most difficult animals in the world to get near ; and the air being so rarified I could hardly breathe, my Paharrees constantly falling, and declaring they uould die, and begging me to return. About four o'clock, as 1 was just giving it up in despau-, I suddenly came round a peak of snow, and found the large ram, at about 300 yards, looking at me. Despairing of ever getting nearer, and knowing my rifle Avould do it if only held straight, I beat a place in the snow and laid it along, taking a steady aim, pulled, and to my delight saw him fall on his side and kick ; he recovered himself, and crawled into some frightful rock, and there stood, showing me his horns." The animal was not cap- tured eventually until it had received a large num- ber of balls. "Thus I killed," saj-s Lieut. Smith, " the first burrhel ever killed by Em-opean or native that I can leani." The coat of the burrhel is rather long, and harsher than that of the nahoor, and in winter, doubtless, becomes deep and woolly. The horns measure twenty inches along the curve, and are ten inches in circumference at the base. Mr. Blyth states, that those of a specimen noticed in the Bengal Sporting Magazine for 1839, p. 295, were twenty-five and a half inches long, with a basal girth of eleven and a half inches ;— and, that be measured a hom of this species, in the posses- sion of Mr. Leadbeater, which was twenty-four inches in length. According to the catalogue above alluded to, this animal is identical with the nahoor of Hodgson. The elevated steppes of Southern Siberia, and the mountain chains of Central Asia, produce an animal, described by Pallas under the name of argali (Ovis Amman), of which, until within the last few months, no specimen has existed in any of our museums. Two noble specimens, male and female, now grace the British Museum, and may be regarded as among the most valuable and interesting of its zoological treasures. Till we saw these specimens we had no idea of so gigantic a sheep ; and we felt at once convinced, that had those naturalists who consider some of the domestic races as deduced from it, had an opportunity of seeing a specimen, they wotild never have entertained such an idea. Huge, heavj', massive, and powerful, indeed, is the argali of Siberia ! an ox in stature, but a wild sheep in form and characters. The male stands four feet in height at the back ; and, measured from the nose to the end of the short little tail over the head and neck, is seven feet nine inches ; the cir- cumference of the horns at the base is nineteen inches, and each hom, measured from its base along the curve to the tip, is three feet eleven inches ; the horns are fuiTowed with deep trans- verse sulci, and are boldly spiral, diverging some- what laterally ; the limbs are compact and well turned ; the ears are small, and the tail is very short. The female specimen is smaller in stature than the male, and the horns are considerably less, both as to length and weight. GEKAT ASIATIC AKGALI. THE SHEEP. »» The pelt is deep, close, aud full, — its tint is a grizzled brown ; the limbs below the knee are whitish, as is the chaffron, though less decidedly; the lips are grayisti ; the tail also is grapsh, but there is no croup-mark, no pallid disc. Probably the colour varies at different seasons of the year, as is generally the case among the wild sheep. The horns of the male are triangular, and con- yex on the upper aspect, — those of the female are more compressed. We suspect these specimens to be in winter clothing ; for Desmarest and others, quoting Pallas, describe the pelt as short, and grayish yellow in summer, ^vith a rufous stripe along the back, and a large mark of the same colour on the croup ; the limbs internally, and the under parts, being of a pale mfous. In winter the pelt is thick, harsh, and of a brownisli gray, pass- ing into white on the muzzle, throat, and under parts. The argali lives in troops, and is extremely active and vigorous, bold and resolute. In spring and autumn the rivaliy of the males is e.xcited, and they engage in desperate conflicts, striking each other on the head w'ith such violence, that they often break off each other's horns, massive as these weapons are, and solidly as they are fixed to the skull. Foxes and small animals take up their abode in the hollow of the dead horns of this animal, which may be scattered about, and there conceal themselves. Had Mr. Blyth personally examined this animal, he would not have suggested its identity with the big-horned or Rocky Mountain sheep of North America, which it greatly exceeds in statui'e. The same writer, in his Monof/raph of the Genus Ovis, founds two species on horns which have come under his notice — viz., the rass or roosch of Pamir {Ovis Polii, Blyth), and the Cau- casian argali (Ovis Ci/lindricornis, Blyth). With i-espect to the Pamir sheep, he says, " In the narrative of tlie celebrated Venetian traveller, Marco Polo, we read (in Marsden's edition, p. 142), that upon the elevated plain of Pamir, eastward of Bokhara, which is 16,000 feet above the sea-level, ' wild animals are met with in great numbers, particularly sheep of a large size, having horns three, four, and even six palms in length. The shepherds form ladles and vessels of them for hold- ing victuals. They also construct fences for en- closing their cattle, and securing them against the wolves, with which they say the countiy is infested, and which likewise destroy many of the wild sheep or goats.' More recently an animal was indicated from report in Sir Alexander Burnes' Travels in Bokhara (ii., 208), and its horns have since been transmitted to the Royal Asiatic Society, by Lieut. Wood, of Sir A. Burnes' party, through the medium of G. T. Vigne, Esq. In this magnificent specimen of a frontlet I recognise, though with some hesita- tion, the Ovis Sculptorum formerly described by me (Proceeds. ^ooL/Soc, 1840,p. 12),from ahorn in the Royal College of Surgeons ; but as the characters of that specimen, as originally drawn up by me, have not hitherto been published, — as its flexure too, which suggested the appellation of sculptorum, woidd appear to form a less extended spire than is probably normal, — and as the habitat proves to be- different from that anticipated (viz. the Taurus, which I have still reason to suspect contains a large undescribed species of this genus), I propose to dedicate the present splendid animal to the illustrious Venetian traveller of the thirteenth century, by the name of Oris Polii." The horns he describes as in the seventh year of growth, and as measui-ing four feet eight inches in length following the curvature, and as fourteen inches and a half in circumference at the base. The single horn in the Ptoyal College of Surgeons is in its eighth year of growth, measures only four feet four inches in length, but is stouter at the base : both are rugose, with transverse striae. Whether this presumed species be identical or not with the great Siberian argali, we have no means of ascertaining ; for, we deem it hazardous to form species upon slight differences in the length, stoutness, or tournure of horns — parts very sub- ject to individual variations ; some being more elongated, but less thick at the base, — others, again, shorter, but more robust. With respect to the Caucasian argali, Mr. Blyth says, " Colonel Hamilton Smith notices this animal in his description of the Ovis Ammon (pub- lished in Griffith's Edition of the Regne Animal of Cuvier, vol. iv., p. 317), and writes me word that an individual died on landing it at Toulon, whither it had been brought by a French consul, who did not preserve the skull or skin, but sent up the horns, which were quite fresli when we saw them. Each horn was about three feet long, arcuated, thick at the top as at the base, of a brown colour, smooth, and about fifteen inches in circumference. They were so heavy and umanage- able, writes Colonel Smith, that I could not lift both together from the ground, nor place them in that kind of juxtaposition which would give me an idea of their appearance on the head. I could not well determine which was the right or which the left horn. Circumstances pi-evented my taking a second view of them, as they arrived only the day before I left Paris, and they are now, doubtless, in the museum of that capital. The sketch which Colonel Smith has favoured me with, represents a sheep-horn apparently of the same general form as those of the burrhel and nahoor, but the dimen- sions specified are very superior to those of either of the two Himalayan species adverted to ; and 26 I cau only suppose that the tips had heen broken off, and the truncated extremity worn smooth. The wild sheep of Caucasus and Taurus are at present but little known ; nevertheless it is certain, from the vague incidental notices of various ti-avellers, that some, and not unlikely several, exist." At Azaz, at the foot of Tauiais, Mr. Ainsworth mentions having seen an animal which he designates Ovis Ammon (Travels in Assyria, Babylonia, and Chaldea, p. 42). We must place the Caucasian argali in the list of undetermined species ; it is founded on the description of a pair of horns, apparently imperfect, and of which the precise tournure is not ascertained. We are not quite certain whether the Siberian Argali inhabits Kamtchatka — probably it does ; but if so, a smaller species also exists there, described and figured by Eschscholtz (Zool. Atlas, part, i., pi. 1, erster heft) as the Ovis Nivicola. This animal is very numerous on the mountains, residing upon the snow-clad heights in summer, and descending to the lower regions in winter ; it is very powerful and vigorous, and a notice of its chamois-like agility occurs in the Narrative of Kotzebue's Voyage, from 1823 to 1820. This species is about two feet six or seven inches in height at the bacl\^ ; its outer coat is of a yellowish-gray colour, brighter on the under parts, and inclining to straw-yellow on the head and neck ; the markings on the front of the limbs are of a rust colour; the horns are equilaterally triangular, and form a complete spiral circle, with the points directed outwards and forwards ; they are marked with deep rugae. The Kamtchatkan sheep, says Kotzebue, " is amazingly fleet and active, exhibiting itself on the loftiest pinnacles, and achieving, like the chamois, prodigious springs among the rocks and precipices, and consequently is not killed or taken without difficulty. In pre- paring for these leaps, its eye measures the distance with surprising accuracy. The animal then con- tracts its legs and darts forward, head-foremost, to the destined spot, where it alights upon its feet ; nor is it ever seen to miss, though the point may be so small as to admit its four feet only by their being closely pressed together. The manner in which it balances itself after such leaps is also admirable ; our ballet-dancers would consider it a perfect specimen of a ploiiib." The great peninsula of Kamtchatka, it may be observed, is between the same parallels of latitude, or nearly so, as Great Britain, but from its geolo- gical formation and other circumstances, its climate is infinitely more rigid than even that of the most northern parts of Scotland. A chain of lofty mountains, in many parts covered with glaciers and perpetual snow, runs from one end of the peninsula to the other, and is based upon nearly its entire breadth. These mountains are broken into jagged rucks and tremendous precipices, exhiliiting everywhere signs of volcanic violence, while in some places the craters of volcanoes are still in acti\'ity, and are seen pouring ouc smoke and flame, and streams of lava, in the midst of ice and snow. The natives possess no domesticated sheep, but live by hunting and fishing ; they chase the argali and the wfld reindeer. The Russian settlers have introduced within the last eighty years many vegetables, which grow in favour- able spots, as rye, barley, cabbages, turnips, &c. They possess also horses and cattle, but the original natives use dogs to draw their sledges, and are hunters and fishermen. In the Journal of the Asiatic Society of Ben- gal, for 1841, p. 230, Mr. Hodgson describes a wild sheep of the Himalayan regions, where it is termed banbhera, and bhaaral ( Ovis Banbhera, Hodgs., MSS.) under the title (,f Oris Ammonoides. This species is the Ovis lloih/snuii uf Blyth in Proceedings of the Zoological Sucicty, 1840, p. 05 ; and also in the Journal of the Asiatic So- ciety, 1849, p. 863. Mr. Hodgson regards this sheep as distinct from the Siberian argali, whicli, however, it resembles in general characters, and approaches in size. The horns, which are sub- compressed, massive, and strictly trigonal at the base, measure forty inches along the curve ; the mean height of the animal is forty- two inches ; and the length from the muzzle to the base of the tail, seventy-two inches ; the tail, including the hair, measures eight inches. The general colour is dull slaty blue, paled on the surface, and moi-e or less tinted with rufous ; the dorsal ridge is dark coloured, or embrowned ; the lips, chin, and under parts, dull hoary ; externally the limbs are hoary, with a rufous tint. This sheep may be identical with the great Siberian argali, or Oris Animon ; at all events, if different, it is a closely allied species ; but in truth, the wild sheep of Central Asia, and the Himalaya range, are among the desiderata of our museums, — nor is it likely, until we obtain a series of the specimens of each so-called species, that we shall be able to arrive at complete certainty' respecting them. Mr. Hodgson, for example, asserts that the burrhell of Mr. Blyth, or Mr. Ogilby, is identical with the nahoor ; against which opinion Mr. Blyth [Journcd of the Asiatic Society, Bengal), in a note upon Mr. Hodgson's observations, success- fully contends. We should scarcely, in a work like the present, have alluded to this point, were it not that it goes to prove the uncertainty whicli still envelopes the mlds pecies of the genus Ovis, — that genus which has afforded us so many breeds of domestic sheep, the precise origin of which still eludes scientific inquiry. It is somewhat remarkable, that nearly all the genera to which ■ our domestic quadrupeds are referable, are the THE SHEEP. fit least thoroughly understood, — we may, perhaps, except the caniue and feline groups ; Lut yet, who has demonstrated the wild stock either of our domestic cat, or our faithful intelligent dog '? As for the ox, the horse, and even the ass, can we positively point out their original type ? Where is the wild camel? There are, however, some animals, as the hog, the rabbit, and the llama, the unreclaimed strains of which we may truly be said to be ac- quainted with;— still, with regard to the domestic hog, it would seem, that, intermmgle as our nume- rous varieties may, these breeds, such as Chinese, Indian, and Papuan, have a different specific origin. The obscurity which shrouds the primitive condi- tion of man, when he went forth to labour, and exercise dominion " over the fish of the. sea, and the fowl of the air, and over all the earth," is surely equalled by that which invests the natural history of the domestic quadrupeds — creatures with which he so early surrounded himself, and in which so large a portion of his real wealth consists. Perhaps we ought to ask the readers pardon for this digression. Leaving the old world for North America, two species of sheep in that portion of the Western Continent claim our notice ; of these we shall first describe the Rocky Mountain sheep (O vis Montana, Desmarest), so ailmirably fiLjinvd by Dr. Richard- son.in the Fail III! ISiiicdli-Aiiii'iiruiia. It was an idea iliniwn out by Cuvier (Regne Animal) that this fine species was an argali, which might have passed from Asia over the ice-bound sea at Behring's Straits, and so have arrived in the northern regions of America ; and this idea is followed up, though with some hesitation, by Mr. Blyth, who had not an opportunity of seeing the tiTie argali, with which to compare the present species. Admitting it as probable that the Si- berian and the Rocky Mountain animals are not the same, though closely resembling each other, he points out a common peculiarity, arising from the magnitude and curvature of the horns, viz. that, as Mr. Drummond affirms, the horns of the old rams of Ovis Montana attain a size so enormous, and curve so much forwards and downwards, as effectually to prevent the animal from feeding on level ground — a circumstance which had been previously remarked by Strahlenberg of the argalis of Siberia, and no doubt is equally observable in the rass of Pamir. In some of the rams of our own domestic breeds, we have known the horns so prominent, as to require the aid of the saw in order to enable the animal to feed at ease. The male Rocky Mountain sheep, when full grown, measures three feet four or five inches in height at the shoulders, and its horns have a pro- portionate magnitude. Among the specimens of horns in the Zoological Society's Museum, there is a pair of extraordinary sizej each measuring, along the curvature over the front ridge, three feet five inches, the circumference at the base being seven- teen and a half. They are nearly equilaterally triangular and gyrate, and are strongly fiu-rowed transversely with bold annuli between the furrows. EUCKl MOUNTAIN The colouring of the Rocky Mountain sheep varies according to the season of the year. The old males are totally white in spring, as is the fine specimen in the museum of the Zoological Society, but at other seasons the pelt is of a fulvous white, tinged with umbre, the face, the chest, and the limbs being marked with brown ; the tail, which is veiy short, being surrounded by a pale or whitish croup-disc. Darker specimens are pre- served in the British Museum, agreeing with Des- marest's description, viz. chestnut-brown, except on the cheeks, which are of a pale chestnut, or rufous, and on the croup, which is purely white, or rather, we add, whitish. We may describe the specimens in the British Museum as of a dark gray-brown tuige, the limbs to the hoofs being of a dark brown, with a distinct croup-marls. Age, as well as the season of the year, seems to influence the general colour of this species, and, probably, of all the wild sheep. The Rocky Mountain sheep, or Bighorn, appears first to have been discovered by the Fathers Piccolo and De Salvatierra, when, in 1097, they established the first mission in Cali- fornia, nearly two centmies after the first discovery of that country. " We found," says Father Piccolo, "two sorts of deer that we know nothing of; we call them sheep, because they somewhat resemble ours in make. The first sort is as large as a calf of one or two years old; its head is much like that of a stag, and its horns, which are very large, are like those of a ram ; its hair and tail ai-e speckled, and shorter than those of a stag ; but its hoof is large and round, and cleft as that of an ox. I have eaten of these beasts ; their flesh is very tender ' and delicious. The other sort of sheep, some of 28 THE SHEEP. which are white and others blacli, differ less from ours ; they are large, and have a great deal more wool, which is very good, and easy to be spun and wrought." By this latter sheep is meant either the Rocky Mountain goat [Rupicajmi Americana, Blain.) or rather, as we think, the Californian sheep of Douglas {Oiis Californianus, Dougl.) Dr. Richardson, in reference to the above notice, observes, " Hermandez, Clavigero, and other writers on California, likewise mention these ani- mals, and Vanegas has given a figure of the first- mentioned one, which has, though evidently on insutficient grounds, been considered to be the same with the Siberian argali." Dr. Richai-dson objects that the term speckled hair does not agree with any descriptions that he has met with of the Rocky Mountain sheep, and that, as far as he had heard, no black individuals are ever met with in the herds of the Rocky Mountain goat. Never- theless, we cannot but think that by the former, speckled as its hair is described, the Rocky Moun- tain sheep, or a near ally, was the animal indicated by Piccolo ; nor is the vague term speckled any formidable obstacle. The colour of the pelt of this animal, which is more or less fulvous, tinged with umbre, resides in the ends of the hair, and as these are rubbed off during the progress of the winter, or lose their colouring, a grizzled or irre- gularly-tinted appearance will be presented, till the pure white, which the old rams assume in winter, is the result ; but besides this, as it is only the old rams that become white, we have reason to suspect that the females and young are really more or less parti-coloiu-ed, sufficiently so to lead a person, writing loosely, and not a naturalist, to call the animal speckled. Though skins of the Rocky Mountain sheep were brought by Captain Cook from the north-west coast of America, and also imported by the Xorth- West Fur Company, it was not until 1 803 that the attention of naturalists was drawn towards the animal, by a paper published in the Medical Re- pository, of New York, by Mr. M'GUlivray, who had previously procured skins on the mountains in which the Elk river takes its rise, whence others have also since been procured, as well as from the mountains skirting the south bank of the Mac- kenzie. From one of the specimens procured by Mr. M'Gillivray, which was first deposited in the New York Museum, and afterwards sent to France, M. GeofTroy published a figure and description in the Annales du Museum, entitling the animal " Belier Sauvage d'Amerique." The fine specimens in the museum of the Zoological Society, presented by Di". Richardson, were obtained on the banks of the Mackenzie. The Rocky Mountain sheep, according to the last-mentioned traveller and zoologist, inhabit the lofty chain of mountains whence they derive their name, from its northern termination in lati- tude 68 degrees to about 40 degrees, and most likely still further south. They also frequent the elevated and craggy ridges with which the country between the great mountain range and the Pacific is intersected, but they do not appear to have advanced farther to the eastward than the declivity of the Rocky Mountains, nor are they found in any of the hilly tracts near to Hudson's Bay. They collect in flocks, consisting of from three to thirty; the young rams and the females herding together during the winter and spring, while the old rams form sepai'ate flocks, except during the month of December. The ewes bring forth in I June or July, and then retire with their lambs to the most inaccessible heights. Mr. Drummond informs me that in the retired parts of the moun- tains, where the hunters had seldom penetrated, he found no difficulty in approaching the Rocky Mountain sheep, which there exhibited the sim- plicity of character so remarkable in the domestic species ; but that where they had been often fired at they were exceedingly wild, alarmed their com- panions on the approach of danger by a hissing sound, and scaled the rocks with a speed and agility that baiHed pursuit. He lost several that he had mortally wounded by their retiring to die amongst the secluded precipices. Their favourite feeding places are grassy knolls, skirted by craggy rocks, to which they can retreat when pursued by dogs or wolves. They are accustomed to pay daily visits to certain caves in the mountains that are encrusted by a saline effervescence, of which they are fond. These caves are situated in slaty rocks, and it was in them alone that Mr. Drummond found the Trt'iss7'rt macrocarpa growing. The flesh of the Rocky Mountain sheep is stated by Mr. Drummond and others who have fed on it, to be quite delicious when in season, far superior to j that of any of the deer species which frequent the same quarter, and even exceeding in flavour the finest English mutton. The Kamtchadales, in like manner, esteem the flesh of the argali as an exqiusite delicacy. The propensity for salt exhibited by the Rocky Mountain sheep, is not peculiar to this species ; it is evinced by all the species of the genus Oris, and, as is well kno^^•n, by domestic sheep. The great Siberian argali is said to repair in the spring to the salt marshes which are so abundant in the wilds of Siberia and Tartaiy. That the Rocky IMountain sheep and the Si- berian argali are truly distinct species can no longer be considei'ed as questionable. The former is exclusively a native of the north-western regions of North America : the latter inhabits Asia, the mountain ranges of which are the great nurseiy of the wild species of the genus oris. The next species to which we have previously THE SHEEP. 29 alluded, is the Californian slieep [Ovis Califor- niamis, Douglas), of which specimens of the horns, referred to by Mr. Douglas, in his obsei-vations in ZoologicalJournal, vol. iv., p. 332, are preserved in the museum of the Zoological Society. The Califor- nian sheep stands two feet eight inches in height at the shoulders. The horns of the male are lu- nate, compressed and comparatively smooth ; they measure each from twenty-four to thirty inches in length — (those in the museum are thirty-two inches, following the curve along the front ridge, and four- teen and a half inches in circumference at the base) ; they are comparatively smooth, and of a yellowish tint. The pelt consists of short tine wool, of a yellowish white, intermixed with longer brownish coarser hairs. Hair on the head short, and fuscous brown ; ears obtuse. " Of the manners of this majestic animal," says jMr. Douglas, " I can say nothing, never having had an opportunity of seeing it alive. From the testimony of the Indian tribes about the falls of the Columbia river, it appears to inhabit the sub- alpine regions of Mount's Wood, St. Helens, and Vancouver, but is more numerous in the moun- tainous districts of the interior of California. The only good skin that ever came under my observa- tion (in lat. 46'^ 14' 55"; long, l^l" 170' 0") was that of a male, apparently recently killed, which I saw on Sunday, Aug. 27, 1826." These horns are, as we have said, now in the museum of the Zoological Society. According to Mr. Douglas, the horns of this animal are converted by the Snake Indians into bows, spoons, and cooking-utensils. It is to this species most probably that Mr. Forbes alludes in his work on Calif(jniiLi, under the name oi Be- riiido, which in ^Iixiid is iqiplied to the Pronr/- honi {Antelope fun: iter, vrl imhnata. Ham. Smith). He states that these animals still abound in the plains at the foot of the mountains, and are always found in large herds. Reviewing this catalogue of the wild species of the genus oris, thei-e does not appear to be one which has any definite claim to be regarded as the type of the domestic sheep. In all the mouflons and argalis the tail is short; but in the domestic sheep, at least as far as most breeds are concerned, the tail is long, and is naturally composed, accord- ing to Cuvier, of fifteen vertical bones, or, as Mr. Youatt says, of from twelve to twenty-one, varying in different breeds. This length of tail in an animal, which long domestication has so greatly modified, may perhaps be i-egarded as an unim- portant circumstance — nor indeed should we lay any stress upon it did we find a parallel case in the instance of the goat, an animal, the domestic breeds of which are endlessly diversified in stature, horns, and clothing. May we not then expect to find the wild type of the sheep more closely re- sembling in this respect the domestic race; for though we will allow that domestication may cause a diminution of bones in a part of little import- ance, and a retrenchment of the organ they sup- port, we should not expect to find an increase of their number, and that characteristic of so many breeds. In this respect the difference between the short-tailed moutlon and one of our sheep, the tail of which, in its natural condition, is elongated almost to the ground, is very striking. We can- not help thinking that should the origin of our domestic stock be discovered, it will be distin- guished from all its congeners by its length of tail. Often, when looking at the undocked mountain sheep of some of our moorland hills, animals ac- tive as goats, with their spiral horns, dusky-brown faces and limbs — here and there a rusty- brown in- dividual appearing amongst the rest — we have said to ourselves, " Surely these cannot be very remote from their primitive type ; they are wild as it is, and were circumstances so to combine as to leave them in a state of emancipation, they would never become changed from what they are." We do not mean to defend this opinion, for it is founded only on our o\\ai impressions or feelings ; yet we think' that the wildest animals of our tame races, placed as far as possible in a state of nature, will always show some outbreak of their freeborn progenitors. There is a tendency in our domestic animals to return to their type, and those who breed "fancy animals," as rabbits and pigeons, know well the art and experience required in keeping up their stock to its full degree of artificial perfection. They proceed on the principle of like prcducing like, and in their selection of breeders, and in the adjustment of the qualities of the individuals des- tined to keep up the strain or improve it, they display no little judgment and concern. Let them neglect their stock, and it soon returns to their old condition. These observations apply equally to the sheep, of which the most uncultured (those that roam upon our wild moorlands and there breed, generation unimproved succeeding genera- tion) may, and perhaps do, approach the nearest to the primitive type. Certainly they exhibit ad- dress, vigour, and independence, and so far lead us to conclude that the sheep is not, by nature, the timid irresolute animal which it is in an arti- ficial state of existence, dependent upon man for care, for pi-otection, and for food. " It can scarcely bedoubted,"saysBuffon, "thattheajiimalsin astate of actual domestication have been formerly wild — those whose history we have given have furnished us with the proof of it — and at the present day wild horses, asses, and oxen are still to be found. But can man, who has subjugated so many millions of individuals, boast that he made an entire con- quest over one species ? As all have been created without his participation, must we not believe that THE SHEEP. all have the capability of growing and of multi- plying without his succour ? Nevertheless, if one considers the weal^ness and the stupidity of the sheep ; if one reflects at the same time that this animal, without the means of defence, cannot even find safety in flight ; that it has for its enemies all the beasts of prey, which seem to seek it by pre- ference, and to devour it with satisfaction ; and besides, that this species is not very productive, and that each individual lives only for a limited period, we shall be tempted to imagine that from tlie beginning the sheep was confided to the guar- dianship of man, that it needs his protection in order to subsist, and his care to multiply ; since, in fact, we find no wild sheep in the deserts ; that in all places where man does not govern, the lion, the tiger, the wolf reign by force and by cruelty ; that these animals of blood and carnage live much longer and nuiltiply much more than the sheep ; and that finally, if we abandoned at the present time in our land the numerous flocks of this species which we have caused to multiply so greatly, they would soon become destroyed under our eyes, and the entire species annihilated by the number and voracity of enemies." Such is Buffbu's mode of reasoning ; forgetful of what the sheep is by na- ture, and looking only to what it is under the culture of man. Like the mouflon and argali, it is formed to tenant the mountain range, to make the precipitous crags its home, and there to find an asylum. If the wild type of our domestic race be ever found, it will be in such a locality, on the range of the Caucasus or the Altaic chain. It is somewhat remarkable, numerous as are the fossil relics of oxen, that so few fossil remains of the sheep have been discovered in the strata where their preservation might have been expected. Mr. Blyth states that two crania of sheep, appa- rently male and female, from the Irish peat, in the possession of the Earl of Enniskillen, were ex- hibited some time since at a meeting of the Zoolo- gical Society, and he attributes them to a wild breed which Hector Boetius (1526) states inhabited the island of St. Kilda, adding that they were larger than the biggest goat, with the tail hanging to the ground, and with horns longer and not less bulky than those of an ox. What these sheep may have been we cannot tell — probably emanci- pated domestic animals ; but we do not pretend to assert it as a fact. Mr. Pennant, in reference to this statement of Boetius, observes, that such an animal is figured on a bas-relief taken out of the wall of Antoninus near Glasgow. We cannot but regard the wild sheep of the Feroe Islands as an emancipated race. Mr. Wilson (Quarterly Journal of Agriculture, vol. ii., p. 542) observes, that Dicuil, who wrote in 852, describes these islands as containing numerous flocks, and that, according to Landt, those of the principal island are black, with short curled wool and dark flesh, the taste of which closely resembles that of other wild animals. Mr. Wilson adds, that when ]\Ir. Trevelyan visited the Feroe Islands in 1821, he found there the remnants of the wild race ; these animals were altogether independent of man ; oc- casionally they were caught with dogs, but could seldom be obtained except by being shot, or inter- cepted in some narrow space and driven over the cliffs. They had short wool, and the flesh though lean was palatable. In the Azores, where there are numerous flocks, many sheep exist in a state of wild- uess, and this probably is the case in other places also, suitable to their e.^istence in a state of freedom. Professor Owen, in his valuable work on British Fossil Mammalia and Birds, figures a portion of the skull of a goat, with compressed horn-cores, found in the newer fresh- water pliocene, at Walton, Essex, and contemporaiy with the Bos primigenius, and Bos lonr/ifrons. "The horn- cores," he observes, "closely agree in shape with those of the common goat, and also of those of the female of the true wild goat {Cajira JEijagrus) ;" and he adds, " I have been favoured with some remains of the goat from a bog in Fermanagh, by the Earl of Enniskillen ; but as the evidence of there having been obtained from the suljacent marl was not conclusive, they may have belonged to a comparatively recent period. Picmauis of the goat, associated with those of the ox, red-deer, hog, horse, and dog, were found in the bed of the Avon, in sinking the foundations of a bridge over that river, near the to^vn of Chippenham. Bones of a goat, or sheep, similarly associated, have been transmitted to me by Dr. Richardson, from a gravel-jDit in Lincolnshire." We cannot say posi- tively, that the "crania of sheep from the fresh- peat," and in the possession of the Earl of Ennis- Idllen, noticed by Mr. Blyth, are identii'al with " the I'emains of the goat," sent to Professor Owen by the same nobleman ; but if they are not so, Professor Owen has omitted all notice of them, probably because he did not regard them as true fossil relics. This absence of the fossil remains of the sheep (for those which have been positively iden- tified belong to the goat) in our pliocene deposits, leads us to presume, that when mastodons, and elepliants, huge hippopotamuses and rhinoceroses, gigantic deer, \vild horses, bisons, and uri, enor- mous bears, and hyaenas, tigers, and feline animals, with sabre-shaped canines, wandered over the plains, wallow^ed in the marshes, or skulked in the caves of that portion of Europe which now consti- tutes England, and we may add, of the adjacent continent, no wild sheep was of their number ; or, at least, that if a wild sheep existed, it was con- fined to isolated spots, and prevented by the carni- vorous animals from becoming generally spread, or numerous even where it might maintain a footing. THE SHEEP. 31 ,■ Granting, however, the existence, in remote ages, of a species of wikl sheep in our island, we have no reason to heheve, that itself passing away, it has left a domestic lineage preserved by the care of man from sharing the fate of the original wild stock. As far as we can retrace the history of man on the globe, we find the sheep in his pos- session ; and, though all details respecting its re- clamation and its spread are buried in oblivion, we know that it did spread, and if we except the aborigines of America, and of the islands of the Southern Ocean, and the dwellers within latitudes impropitious to its existence, it became the pro- i perty of the human race. When, or by what peo- 1 pie, it was introduced into our island, no records [ remain to declare; and it is somewhat remai-kable that Ctesar, though he alludes to horses and cha- riots, to oxen, to domestic fowls, and geese, does not allude to the sheep, or the use of its wool in the manufactui-e of fabrics. Yet we cannot doubt that the ancient Britons were in the possession of this animal ; for when the subjugation of the island was completed, and general tranquillity began to prevail, the Romans, turning their atten- tion to the improvement of the country, and the cultivation of its commercial resources, established woollen manufactories at Winchester — and it would be absurd to suppose that the wool made use of was-imported, and not of native growth. So suc- cessful was this experiment, that the woollen cloths of Britain soon began to be celebrated, — no other part of the empire could produce such fabrics ; the finest and most expensive dresses Avorn on days of festivity, or on occasions of ceremony, were of British manufacture. As Winchester is seated in the centre of a district fitted only for the support of short-woolled sheep, it is reasonable to conclude that the material used was chiefly, if not entirely, the produce of these sheep. Supposing even that some portion of the wool was imported from Gaul, still we suspect that short wool was the material, inasmuch as wool for forming densely felted but unwoven fabrics, so thick and solid as to resist the stroke of a sword, was there extensively used, and thence most probably exported to the southern districts of Biitain, — if, indeed, Britain received any at all from the Gallic territory. It w^as, indeed, said, that the British wool was often spun so fine as to resemble a spiders thread ; and this has led some to believe that the celebrated woollen stuffs of Britain, under the Roman dominion, were the produce of the long-woolled breed of sheep — a breed undoubtedly of high antiquity, and ever deemed most valuable for the production of a combing and spinning material ; indeed Dyer, in his Fleece says — " If any wool peculiar to oiir isle I Is given by Nature, 'tis the comber's lock, — The soft, the snow-white, and the long-grown flake.' From this delicacy of the spun wool, noticed by Dionysius Alexandrius, and from the impression re- specting the antiquity of the long-woolled breed, some conjecture that the woollen manufactories of Winchester were supplied by a wool of long staple ; and it has been alleged, that as antique cus- toms do not easily pass away, and peculiar manufac- tories, established in a distant age, on certain spots, still maintain their ground, — and that as there still exist in the neighbourhood of Winchester, factories for the production of fine worsteds, the ancient fabrics of Winchester were composed of this material. But when we consider that Winchester could only pro- cure on the spot the produce of short-woolled sheep (represented in our day by the Dorsets, the Wilt- shires, and the Southdowus), — that from time immemorial, manufactories of short- wool! en goods have been established there, — and that there the first guild of fullers was chartered in the reig-u of Stephen, we think that the conclusion, as to the stuffs of the opulent of Rome being short-woolled, is the most probable. Begun before or at least during the Roman dynasty in our island, the manufacture of woollen stuffs doubtless continued in a flourishing condition for many centuries, in fact till the withdrawal of the Romans, a.d. 426 (Coesar's first invasion having occurred e.g. 55). What changes during this period, if we take our date from the time of Agricola (a.d. 71, 80), took place among the British races of sheep, — what changes, and what improvements in the manufac- ture of woollen stuffs, we have no means of ascer- taining ; but of this we are certain, that when Britain became an integral portion of the Roman empire, the arts of social life, dependent upon civilization, received a rapid impulse ; the skins of wild beasts or of domestic animals, no longer clothed the woad-stained aborigines ; towns usurped the place of woad-concealed kraals, and sordid huts were exchanged for mansions of elegance and luxury. Then, too, did the sheep become trebly important ; and haply, some native Briton, as he surveyed his flocks, mused upon the Georgics of Virgil, familiar alike with his own language and that of the elegant poet. But fiercer times were to come. The Romans were withdrawn, we may say, from the land of their birth, from their British ties and kindred, — for time had greatly intermingled the conqueroi's with the conquered, and the Romans were so by law and lineage rather than by birth ; but, as we said, the political necessities of Italy required their presence, and Britain had to sustain the ravages of the natives of Caledonia, the Picts, and the Scots. Then came in (a.d. 449) the Saxons — the rest need not be told. Now, when the Saxons divided Britain among themselves, driving the Britons to Wales and Cornwall, did they de- stroy the manufactories which the Romans had sr THE SHEKP. encouraged? or if not, di J they permit the persons engaged in them to remain, or did they them- selves carry them on, pursuing the business of the prior possessors ? History does not enable us to answer the question, but we may form a conjecture from analogy. A rude and barbarous people adopt the arts of the more civilised whose lands they have usurped, nor are all the conquered driven from their wonted homes and habitations, although, perhaps, forced into bondage. " When the Anglo- Saxons," says Sharon Turner, " invaded England, they came into a country which had been under the Roman power for about four hundred years, and where agriculture, after its more complete sub- jection by Agricola, had been so much encouraged, that it had become one of the western granaries of the empire. The Britons, therefore, of the fifth century, may be considered to have pursued the beat system of husbandry then in use, and their lands to have been e.^ctensively cultivated with all those exterior circumstances which mark established proprietorship and improvement — as small farms ; enclosed fields ; regular divisions into meadow, arable, pasture, and wood ; fixed boundaries ; planted hedges ; artificial dykes and ditches ; selected spots for vineyards, gardens, and orchards ; connecting roads and paths ; scattered villages and larger towns ; with appropriate names for every spot and object that marked the limits of each property, or the course of each way. All these appear in the earliest Saxon charters, and before the combating invaders had time or ability to make them, if they had not found them in the island. Intosuch a country the Anglo-Saxon adven- turers came ; and by these facilities to rural civiliza- tion, soon became an agricultural people. The natives whom they despised, conquered, and en- slaved, became their educators and servants in the new arts, which they had to learn, of grazing and tillage ; and the previous cultivation practised by the Romanized Britons, will best account for the numerous divisions, and precise descriptions of land, which occur in almost all the Saxon chai-- ters." — {Hist. Anglo-Saxons, iii., App., No. 2.) Celebrated as were the Britons for their ma- nufacture of woollen stuffs, this art, as well as the arts of grazing and tillage, would be one which they would teach their rude conquerors — perhaps those peculiarly skilful in it would be constrained to pursue their calling for the benefit of the latter ; and thus local spots in which manufactories had flourished during the time of the Romans, would continue to be, as before, the seats of the art in question. That we should hear little respecting sheep or wool during the earlier part of the Saxon period of our history is not surprising ; we lean^i, however (Stillingfleet's Chronicon Pretiosum, p. 50), that about 712, until fourteen nights after Easter, the price of the sheep was estimated at one shilling, of forty-eight Saxon shillings to the pound. This sum, about five-pence, small as it now appears, was not so at that date, nor for a long period afterwards; for, according to Anderson {On Com- merce), it was the estimated value of a sheep in the time of Ethelred, that of a horse being thirty shillings, or one hundred and fifty pence, an ox thirty pence, or five shillings, a hog eight- pence, and a goat two-pence, consequently the value of a sheep, viz. five-pence, was proportion- ally greater than that of an ox. The spinning of wool was an employment pursued by the Anglo-Saxon females of the highest rank, and they attained to a great degree of skill in the ornamental work belonging to clothing. The mother of Alfred is reported to have been skilled in the spinning of wool, and also to have diligently instructed her daughters in the same art. Alfred, in his will, denominated the female part of his family as the spindle-side, and from their habitual employment unmarried females were then termed spinsters ; and the term, one of honourable derivation, is still contiuued, though the practice is obsolete. Edward the Elder, who ascended the throne A.D. 900, " sette his sons to scole, and his daugh- ters he sette to woU-werke." In the Dialogues composed by Afric of Can- terbury, who lived in the latter part of the tenth century, and which are presei-ved in the Cotton Library, a shepherd is represented as thus de- scribing his duties : — " In the first part of the morning J drive my sheep to their pasture, and stand over them in heat and cold with dogs lest the wolves destroy them. I lead them back to their folds and milk them twice a-day, and I move their folds, and make cheese and butter, and I am faithful to my lord." Now, there are several points of information to be gleaned from these scattered notices, bearing not only upon the habits and manners of our Saxon forefathers, but upon our more immediate subject. The general practice of spinning wool among the females of all classes, from the princess to the peasant's daughter, prove that England must have at that time possessed extensive Hocks. Many of the franklins were no doubt rich in sheep, as well as in swine and oxen ; they kept shepherds to watch their sheep, accom- panied by fierce dogs capable of contending with the wolf, which, in spite of the shepherd's vigi- laiice, too often committed depredations among them. These sheep were regularly folded, and the folding-places changed ; the ewes were milked twice a-day, and buth butter and cheese were pro- cured. It is evident that great attention was paid to sheep, and that they were highly valuable — not so much on account of their Hesli, for mutton does not appear to have been then in estimation, but THE SHEEP. 33 on account of the fleece and the milk. We leavu, moreover, that even at that early time two races of sheep must have existed, a race with short wool, from which cloth was made of great fineness in the manufactories established in various parts of the kingdom ; and a long-woolled race, the fleece of which was especially fitted for hosiery and woolleu goods. It was this that was used by the spinsters of the olden time, while the fullers of Winchester (the birth-place of the manufacture of wool in the time of the Romans) required wool of a contrary character.* Thus, then, at this early period, and even antecedently, two breeds of sheep, characterised by the opposite quality of their fleeces, one fitted for the comber, the other for the manufacturer of cloth and the fuller, that is of felting property, established in our island. The value of both herds was fully appreciated, and English wool was celebrated for its fineness and superiority. So it continued during the reign of the early Norman kings, and woollen manufactories were then established in many parts of the kingdom. Thus, then, as far as we can retrace the an- nals of the island of Britain, do we find the tame sheep cultivated by the inhabitants, and regarded as one of the most important of their domestic animals; but whence or how it was obtained, whether any wild stock there existing indigenously was reclaimed, or whether it was brought by the early colonizers, or afterwards acquired by traffic, are points upon which history throws not a gleam of light. CHAPTER III. A GENEEAI. REVIEW OF THE DOMESTIC RACES OF SHEEP. Before we enter more particularly into a his- tory of the British sheep, it will be proper for us to take a general survey of this animal as it exists in a state of domestication, and trace out how far climate, cultivation, and a combination of other circumstances have contributed to produce in it the most extraordinaiy varieties —varieties which almost lead us to question, as indeed some do, whether all be the descendants of one stock. We must look at the domestic sheep (Ovis Aries, Linn.) as an artificial being — it is what man has made it ; and, like the dog, it shows the effects of his culture, persisted in through a long succes- sion of ages. We are accustomed to regard the sheep as a purely wool-bearing animal ; but was it so originally ? was it not, like the mouflon, covered partly with rigid hair and partly with wool, the latter becoming developed in winter? and is not the fleece which it bears in our climate, the result of culture, of temperature, and pasturage? We know that the latter influences the character of the fleece, irrespective of temperature ; that cer- tain lands are fitted for long-woolled sheep, while others are expressly adapted for short-woolled races. We know that, on the adjacent continent, ditferent sheep are found in the same region. Sir Joseph Banks imported three sheep from Spain which had no wool; they "were sleek and smooth * It is remarkable that after a lapse of upwards of nine hundred years since ttie ultimate departure of the Romans, the cloth manu- factory at Winchester continued to flourish ; and that in the time of Stephen {\D 11 40) both the weavers and the fullers were elected into separate guilds, the former paying one mark of gold annually (about 30/.), the latter 16/. (equal to 240/. or 2.50/.), for their liberties and customs, and a right to elect their own aldermen. — See Madox' History of the Excheqiur, VOL. II. as a horse, and never, in any season, showed the least signs of wool or down in the most minute quantity." — (Bath Society Papers, vol. viii., p. xi.) Yet Spain produces the celebrated Merino breed, reared on the great flats of Estremadura and Andalusia, where they are depastured during the winter ; being driven, on the approach of summer, to the mountains. Besides these is the Chunah breed, a large, tall, heavy race, with long, coarse wool, destitute of any curl. Here, then, we have sheep, clad with wool of a different character, under the same climate; there are breeds co- existing in every part of Europe between which a similar line of demarcation may be drawn. With regard to climate, there can be no doubt that it affects the proportion of the wool to the hair, and influences the relative quantity, as well as the fineness and quality of the former. Regions which suff"er neither the extremes of heat nor of cold, or in which, by a change of pasturage from lower to more elevated grounds, the heats of sum- mer can be neutralized, and, by a reverse proceed- ing, the severities of winter can be moderated, seem most favourable for the development of wool. If we look at the sheep in very cold latitudes, we find it clad in an outer garment of coarse hair, beneath which lies an under layer of wool, which becomes fuller and longer in winter. Such is the case in the ordinaiy breed of Iceland. That this breed might be improved by care we are quite willing to admit; due shelter and a proper sujjply of food during winter, with general good management, would probably effect a considerable change ; judi- cious interbreeding, care, industry, and intelligence will overcome the difficulties of climate. It is 34 THE SHEEP. thus that the Merino race preserves its excellencies alike in Spain, in Germany, in Holland, and even in rigorous Sweden. The influence of breed under proper management will overnile the natural ad- verseness of climate ; and thus man, Ly pursuing a well-regulated system, may conquer the intense severity of winter. These remarks apply equally to the sultry regions of the globe, where the sheep, gaunt and lank, are covered with short hair, some- times with long hair, sometimes with hair inter- mingled with a little wool. Some breeds of Indian sheep however are clad with a fleece of wool, and the Merino breed is extensively cultivated in the colony of the Cape of Good Hope. It must be acknowledged however that the difficulty of con- tending against a sultry climate is far greater than that of contending against a climate of just the opposite description, as far as the reariug of fleece- covered sheep is concerned ; and sheep of the best breeds imported into the hotter parts of the globe vrill rapidly degenerate. The estabUshmeut of the Merino sheep in the Cape colony, though neither pains nor expense were spared, was at first by no means attended by success, and was only eff"ected by perseverance and unremitting attention. It is remarkable that in the countries of Nepal and Thibet, where wild mouflons and argalis tenant the mountain ranges, breeds of sheep bearing wool of surpassing excellence, are kept in a state of domestication. Mr. Hodgson {Proceeds. Zool. Soc, 1834, p. 99) informs us that the wool of the Huniah, or Bhotean domesticated sheep, is superb ; and suggests that attempts should be made to naturalize the race in England. This sheep, he adds, is suited only to the northeni district of Nepal, as it suff"ers much from the heat of the central district. In the Journal of the Asiatic Soc. of Bengal, 1842, p. 284, Mr. Hodgson figures and describes this variety of sheep, which he there terms the Hoonia (Huniah) or black-faced sheep of Thibet. " Vast flocks," he states, " of the graceful and valuable Hoonia are reared all over Thibet for food, for clothing, and carriage, and almost exclu- sive of any other breed. They flourish in the Kachar of Nepal, though not south of it ; and even in the Kachar their wool degenerates. To procure the Hoonia from north-eastern Thibet ought to be an object of zealous endeavour on the part of the Agricultural Society, which should also obtain the Kachar breed of the same animal, — the former for export to Europe, for it would not live in India ; the latter for attempts at crossing with the com- mon long-tailed breed of Gaugetic India. The goat and sheep of the Hemachal and Thibet have the finest fleeces in the world, — the goats and eheep of the plains of India almost the worst." To improve the sheep of India is certainly a desideratum ; but we confess that to naturalize in our own island the splendid Huniah breed would be of far greater importance. We cannot expect wool from India, but to improve any breed of European sheep is a matter of importance ; and to give publicity to the Huniah or Hoonia sheep of Thibet may be the means, perhaps, of inciting those who have the power at command to introduce some of these celebrated animals, of which little, indeed nothing, is known in our country. The Huniah sheep is of large size, slender, flat-sided, with a short narrow tail, and s[)irally twisted horns ; some individuals have three, four, or even five horns. It is probable that this breed would flourish in our island, as would also that described by Mr. Moorcroft (in Trans. Boyal Asiat. Soc, vol. i., p. 49) under the title of the Piirik sheep. He states that the Piirik sheep of Ladakh (a province of Thibet) yields not in merit to any race discovered, both as to the fineness and the weight of the fleece, and also as to the flavour of the mutton, its feeding properties, and its constitu- tion. The ewes give two lambs within the course of twelve months, and tlie flock is twice shorn during the same period. This is probably only a variety of the Huniah. There are other breeds of sheep in Thibet, of which the most common is a variety of the fat-rumped Persian sheep, with short hair and a little wool beneath : the head and legs are generally black. Costly shawls are made in Iiulia from the fine, long, and delicate wool of the fleece-bearing races of Tliibet, of which the Piirik sheep appears to be conspicuous. Here again we have a marked instance of the difference of breeds inhabiting tlie same country. As the fleece of the primitive sheep consisted of wool and hair, we cannot be much sui-prised that under certain circumstances one of these becomes developed at the expense of the other, nor that, when the constitutional tendency to produce wool is established, it does not readily give way to the preponderance of hair, and lice versa. Thus even in Guinea, if the Abbe Demanet be correct [Hist. d'Afrique, Paris, 1787), two varieties of shee]) are reared, one of which is covered with wool, and has a long fat tafl, while the other is larger and stronger, and covered with shaggy hair like a goat. Travel- lers, however, do not allude to this woolly breed, but describe the sheep as clad with hair, and having a mane on the neck, with wattles under the throat, and pendulous ears. We have spoken of tlie celebrated lambskins of Bucharia, with their beautiful wavy glossy fleece, so much esteemed throughout Russia, Tar- tary, Thibet, China, Persia, &c. According to Dr. Anderson [Bath Society Papers, vol. viii.), the term fleece is not strictly applicable in this in- stance ; for, upon examination, he found the beau- tiful material to consist of nothing else but hair, without the smallest intermixture of wool ; and we suspect that the ringlets of the lambskins, THE SHEEP. 35 prepared by the inlialiitnnts of tlie Ukraine and Podolia, are truly hair. Tlie lambs are born with a wavy pelt, and often prettily marked; to in- crease the beauty and value of this, they are so\vn up in a sort of linen vest, which keeps up a constant and gentle pressure on the skin. This vest is saturated every day with warm water, in order to make the pelt soft and sleek ; and as the animal grows it is slackened from time to time, but not too much rela.^ed ; for the object is to press the pelt into permanent ringlets. The animals are killed at different stages of the process, according to the material intended to be produced ; that is, either a short glossy nap like silk, fit only for deli- cate linings, or a thick warm fur for winter clothing. — (See Anderson on theRussian and Tartarian Shi-cj).) To the longhaired silky breed of the Bucha- nan Tartars, the Cretan or Wallachian sheep (Oris Aries, vai-. Strejmcerosu common in Crete, Wallachia,* Hungary, and the western parts of Asia, appears to be allied. A few years since a splendid specimen from Mount Parnassus was presented by Dr. Bowring to the Zoological Society of London. It was certainly a noble animal, but extremely vicious and unruly and of amazing strength. The horns very large, and spirally contorted, adding greatly to its striking anil picturesque appearance. In this specimen, they extended laterally from the skull, and after the first turn took a downward sweep ; but this was an exception to the common rule, for in general the horns of the male rise almost perpendicularly from the skull, making a series of spiral turns in their ascent, the first turn being the largest. In the female they are smaller than in the male, and are said to diverge. We may conclude, however, that individual variations, with respect to the direc- tion of the horns, occur in this breed ; indeed, as • The ordinary Wallachian sheep is of the broaJ-tailed race, and not the Ovis Strepaiceros. we have sufficiently seen, the more trivial charac- ters of the sheep in its domestic state are unfixed, and capable of modification. The fleece of this animal consisted of an undercoat of short wool, and an upper vest of very long and beautifully fine white hair, falling from the middle of the back on each side of the animal, almost to the ground. On the face the hair was short, close, and of a rusty black colour. Specimens of this sheep, though a native of Eastern Europe and the adjacent parts of Asia, have been very rarely brought into England — we may add, the proximate countries across the chan- nel. We do not remember to have seen a speci- men in the Museum of Paris, nor is there, we believe, one in the British Museum. Buffon, in the third volume of the supplement to his great work, gives a figure of the male and female of this curious race, from a drawing sent him by Mr. Collinson of London, from whom he was in the habit of receiving communications on subjects of natural history ; but no information relative to this sheep is given. Yet it would appear that this race was knovvTi in ancient times, and is alluded to, in the opinion of some, by Oppian and Pliny. ■\Mth respect to the latter writer this is very- doubtful. In the eleventh book indeed (cap. xv.), he describes an animal called strepsiceros, with horns erect, lyre -shaped, pointed, and wound round by a spiral wreath of rugae. This animal, whic'h he adds is called addax (or addas) in Africa, is undoubtedly the antelope, still called abu-addas or abu-akasch by the Arabs. — (Antelope addax, Licht.) It is time, however, that we turn to some of the more singular varieties of the domestic sheep, of which there are several the existence of which can be traced up to the remotest antiquity. In Leviticus (chap. viii. ver. 25), Moses, it is said, " took the/af and the rump, and all the fat that was upon the inwards," &c., "and burnt them on the altar." And in another place (chap. ix. ver. 19) we read that he took the fat of a bullock, " and of the ram the rump," and " he burnt the fat upon the altar." From these and other expressions it may be inferred that the croup of the sheep of ancient Syria was loaded with a deposit of fat, and such a breed extensively prevails in the eastern parts of Europe, in Palestine, in the deserts of Tartary,and indeed extensively throughout Asia. Of this breed are the flocks of the Kalmucs, Kirguise, and Tartar tribes composed. A writer in the Agricultural Magazine for 1804 thus describes the Kirguise and Kalniuc breeds : — In the mountainous districts, he observes, they are higher than a new- born calf, and so strong and heavy that the full- grown ones weigh between four and five poods ; that is, between 144 and 180 pounds (the pood being .36 pounds). They have the arched front of the old battering ram, prominent undei-lips, and so THE SHEEP, large pendulous ears.* Instead of a tail they have a monstrous round of fat, like a cushion, weighing 30 or 40 pounds, and yielding between 20 and 30 pounds of tallow. Their wool is coarse, entangled together, and strongly mixed with hair. The rams are universally, and the wethers gene- rally, homed, and some, like the Icelandic, have four, five, or six horns. During the whole winter they seek their fodder under the snow, without losing their condition during its continuance ; for not only is the season short, but the snow passes away on the salt parts of the steppes more rapidly than elsewhere, and all animals are fat- tened by feeding on vegetables of a saline soil. So rich is the coimtry with sheep, that common Tartars often possess a thousand, and some of the richer ones more than fifty thousand. "The Kalmuckian sheep differ from the Kirguise in their smaller size, less curved forehead, less hairy wool, and being seldom homed. They are sadly neglected, and indeed it is in a manner impossible to compel the Kalmucs to be good agriculturists." From the river Volga to the Irtish, and thence to the Altaic chain of mountains, the steatopygous breed of sheep prevails, differing in minor points as to size and the quality and character of the wool. Throughout this immense tract, where saline pastures afford food, acrid and bitter aromatic plants abound, as wormwood and various species of saltwort, besides grasses adapted for such situations. The Turcomanic shepherds are migratory, driving their sheep to different pasture lands according to the season of the year, preferring those districts where the soil is impregnated with salt, affording a luxuriant but peculiar vegetation. Some of the Kalmuc and lurgnise rams have four or even six horns, and the cushion of fat on the crupper weighs from thirty to forty pounds. These numerous horns, and this enormous deposit of fat, are characteristic only of the sheep fed in the saline districts ; for on certain grounds near the Volga, where the pastures are not saline and the snow lies deep dm-ing the winter, the sheep are not only small but often hornless, and the deposit of fat on the croup is materially diminished. In other parts of the Tartarian wilds where there is no saline impregnation, the sheep though large have but a moderate proportion of fatty deposit on the croup, though the pasturage is excellent ; neverthe- less, as it is not saline, it does not produce that peculiar vegetation which seems to be immediately connected with the inordinate accumulation of fat on the croup, so characteristic of the Kalmuc and Kirguise races. We have here then a striking example of the * " As the shepherd taketh out of the mouth of the hon two legs, or a piece of an ear." — Amos, iii. 12. By the expression " piece of au ear," we are led to infer that the ears of the sheep were lai'ge and pendulous, as are those of the Syrian goat, to which perhaps the passage may more directly refer. effects of pasturage in originating and in estab- lishing a peculiar breed of sheep — a breed which existed in the earliest ages, and continued to maintain its ground while in other countries very different breeds sprung up, and improved or dete- riorated, or became modified in various points, but which have never exhibited the Ivirguise or Kalmuc peculiarity. This peculiarity is not incapable as we have seen of modification, and in time and by management might be obliterated. When sheep of the steatopygous breed are transported into the interior districts of Russia, the change they experience in food and mode of life produces a decided effect, and the croup loses almost all or at least a great proportion of its fat. It appears to be in fact, as is observed by Pallas, to the influence of the bitter saline pastures of Tartary through a number of generations, that the gradual augmentation of the dejiosit of fat on the croup is owing — a disposition connected with a dwindling away of the tail to a little button. Pallas farther observes that the diminution of this mass of fat in the sheep of several of the Tartar hordes is owing to tlie little wormwood there is in those districts, and the small quantity of salt with which the pasture is impregnated. These facts cannot be uninteresting to the practical farmer, inasmuch as they are the most remarkable proofs of the influeuce of pasturage in modifying breeds ; not only in i-endering animals well grown or fat, or in altering the quality of the flesh or of the milk, but in disposing the system to deposit fat on certain parts, and in entailing this disposition upon a whole race so that it becomes their heredi tary characteristic. STEATOrVGoUS SDEEP. In the Tartarian steatopygous sheep, the head is heavy, the horns large, angular, wrinkled, and spirally twined. The neck is long and rather thin, especially at its base, where it joins the chest. The brisket is deficient, and loose skin, forming a sort of dewlap, hangs from it. The limbs are THE SHEEP. B7 long, and the general contour gaimt but muscular. The ears are pendent. The wool is mixed with hair. An allied but hornless breed of smaller size is found in Persia, of which living specimens have existed in the gardens of the Zoological Society. Anthony Jenkinson, who travelled from Moscow to Khorasan in the sixteenth century (see Hakluyt's Collection, vol. i., p. 329), describes the Persian sheep as being of great stature, with a mass of fat ou the croup weighing sixty or eighty pounds ; but we suspect this to be an exaggeration ; no modern travellers describe any Persian domes- ticated sheep of such a magnitude. A fine race of the Persian breed may be thus described: — General colour white, excepting the head, the sides of the neck, and the throat, which are black. General contour excellent. The wool is short, rather curled, coarse and mixed with hairs. The carcase is rounded, the back straight, the limbs small and clean, the neck descends well to the chest, and the effect is increased by lax skin, forming a dewlap along the throat and brisket. An enormous mass of tremulous fat covers the croup or saddle, and descends over the upper part of each ham, with a fissure at the upper part of whicli appears a short tail. From the excellent points about this sheep we cannot doubt that the breed is capable of great improvement, more especially as it regards weight of carcase, excellency of flesh, and aptitude for early fattening. A change of pasture and climate would soon reduce the accumulation of fat on the croup, and careful interbreeding would tend to its equali- zation generally. Those who have tasted the mutton of these sheep in Persia, afiirm it to be excellent. The soft and marrowy fat of the croup forms a dish in great repute ; it is often boiled with rice, and in cooking it serves as a substitute for lard or butter, and is also employed for burning in An allied race of sheep called the Fat-tailed fOvis Aries, var. LaticaudataJ is found in Syria, Bucharia, China, Egypt, ^Ethiopia, &c., and ap- pears formerly to have extended to Southern Africa. Among these sheep certain minor differences pre- vail, both as to the character of the fleece, stature, and the mode in which the fat is deposited on the tail ; some having the fat more especially confined to the upper part, others having it more equally dis- posed over the whole of the tail, which hangs to the ground, the lower part or tip of which is often naked. In some the deposit of fat is moderate, in others it is enormous. All the breeds appear to be horned, and to have pendent ears. In the Bedouin sheep the ears are pendent, and the tail is long and rather thick but by no means overloaded with fat ; in the Syrian fat-tailed race on the contrary the tail is somewhat flattened, with a lobe of fat on each side ; it narrows suddenly at the tip, which is turned up, so that it does not touch the ground. The average weight of the tail of this sheep is from twenty to thirty pounds. Villamont, however (ro)/rt(/(?, lib. iv., p. 628). states that he saw some in Syria which weighed thirty- three pounds and upwards. Pvussell describes two breeds of fat-tailed sheep about Aleppo ; in oiie the deposit of caudal fat is moderate, in the other sort the tail is much larger, and it is this kind to which travellers more particularly allude in their descriptions of sheep with enormous caudal appendages. Some of these sheep are veij large and heavy, and by feeding attain to the weight of one hundred and fifty pounds, but such animals are rare, and are kept up in yards, in order to prevent any injury occurring to their taik. which are very broad and large, and terminate in a LOXG FAT-TAILED SHEEP. small recurved tip or appendix. He farther informs us that when these sheep are fed in the fields, the shepherds in several places of Syria fix by way of protection a thin board to the under part of the tail, and to this board are sometimes attached small wheels ; hence, with a little exag- geration, we have the story of the oriental sheep being under the necessity of having carts to carry their tails. He adds however that there is a necessity of carriages for the tails of the African breed, as mentioned by Herodotus, Ludolphus, and others, because their tail does not turn up at the tip, but actually drags on the ground. Ludol- phus states that he saw a sheep's tail weigh eighty pounds in Egypt; and Symon Simion speaks of sheep-tails in the same country weighing seventy pounds ; but this enormous mass was produced, according to Russell, by high feeding the animals with bran and barley. In the more populated parts of Syria flocks of sheep are not often seen ; but a few, the property of several owners, may be often observed, usually with a string round the neck of each, by means of which they may be led to pasture and fastened up THE SHEEP. ■when at home. They are led ahout in gardens and vineyards, and out on the mountain side, a boy or a girl being usually in attendance on each sheep. " In the evening," says Paxton, " I have often seen them bringing the sheep to the springs and pools of water, and pour the water plentifully over them, I suppose to cool them." In some places tlie sheep are fed at home, chiefly upon mulberry leaves, which are squeezed up into sm.dl balls and put into their mouths. These sheep are much valued and greatly petted, and like other domestic favourites appear to be conscious of their im- portance, and jealous of other animals ; they are generally tied up near their owner's door, and they stamp and butt at all dogs that venture to approach near them. In Syria little meat excepting mutton is eaten, and excepting during a few weeks in the spring it is fat and well flavoured ; the lamb in spring is excellent. The Arabs, and also the townspeople, have a way of preserving mutton by boiling it and potting it in large earthen jars, covered up with its own suet, which is poured in a boiling state upon the meat pressed down in the jar. The marrowy fat of the tail is higlily esteemed ; it is mixed with lean meat in many of their dishes, and is also used instead of butter ; tlie latter, we need not repeat, is the produce of the milk of the goat and the sheep. As mutton is almost the only animal food consumed in Syria, a regular and abundant supply, especially for the large towns, is very requisite. It is calculated that 60,000 sheep are annually consumed in Aleppo, the population of which amounts to about the same, thus making the consumption one sheep a year for each person ; that is, as it regards sheep alone, what the same population in an English town (as it is calculated) will consume. Inasmuch however as beef, veal, and pork are to be taken into consideration, which are not eaten in Syria, the consumption of animal food altogether may be estimated at four times as much on the average for each person as in Aleppo. This demand in the towns of Syria for mutton renders the business of the sheep-grazier profitable ; indeed sufficient sheep are not reared in Syria for the supply of the towns and villages, and great numbers are imported from Northern Arabia, from Erzeroum, and Mesopotamia. We learn from Dr. Bowring's Report that " there are brought annually from Erzeroum and Mesopotamia about 80,000 sheep for the consumption of Syria, the greater part of which are sold at Hamah, Horns, Damascus, and in the South. The price Yfiries according to the demand from 65 to 80 piastres (\')s. to l(Ss.) each, making for 80,000 a total sum of 5,600,000 piastres (£56,000). The sale is effected partly for cash and partly on credit. The returns for this amount are made mostly in specie in new and old gazzis, which is a heavy drain on the capital of Syria. For the quantity furnished by Arabs and other pastoral populations for the consumption of Syria, there is an exchange of commodities which is mutually beneficial ; but for the supplies received from Erzeroum and Mesopotamia the balance of the trade is wholly discharged in gold. Ibrahim Pacha attempted to apply a I'emedy to this by increasing the number of sheep produced in Syria. He published an order that no lambs were to be killed for one or two years, for it had been the custom to kill the lambs while very young. It is very doubtful whether the measure has done anything towards producing the desired eff'ect. The supplies from Mesopotamia have not decreased, and the price of mutton in eveiy part of Syria is from 3 to 3^ piastres per oke (about 'i^d. per pound); so difficult is it by legislation, however despotic, to fori;e pro- duction and give direction to capit Barapton ' White 24 30 Old Leicester with> Exmoor / White 36 24 New Leicester! with Exmoor ' 24 18 Do. with South> Devon / „ 20 20 20 24 Do. with Hampton 1 To this we may add the excellent observations of Mr. Youatt on the sheep of his native county, which will serve to show the alterations that have already taken place, and are still in progress. " In very few counties in England has so complete an alteration taken place in the character and produce of the sheep as in Devonshire. When Mr. Luccock compiled his table in 1800, he stated he number of short-woolled sheep to be 436,850, and that of the long- woolled sheep 193,750. The number of packs of short wool were 7,280, those of long wool 6,458. The number of packs of short 102 THE SHEEP. ^vool has now diminished to 2,275, but no s^atis- factorj' account has been obtained of the increase of the long wool. " The fleece of the Dartmoor sheep, as well as the carcase, has been essentially altered by a cross with the Leicester. The wether at three years old will now average 24 lbs. the quarter, and the fleece will weigh 6| lbs. with the yolk. The fleece has also improved in fineness and softness of fibre, and is more useful for many important puijioses." Cornwall, we may here observe, is another county in which, owing to the introduction of the long-woolled Leicesters, the old characters of the native sheep have been almost, if not altogether, lost. Formei-ly the sheep of Cornwall were a small, wild, short-woolled breed, not unlike the old breeds of Dartmoor and Exmoor. Many had homs, others were polled ; and many had black or dun-coloured faces ; their flesh was fine, and held in high estimation. Though faulty in contour, these sheep were light, active, and agile, and fed on the downs, heaths, and sandy hills, delighting in the short grass and the aromatic plants abound- ing in such localities. These sheep reached ma- turity at about four years old, and the average weight of the quailer was about 14 lbs. These sheep are now restricted to isolated spots — they are in fact seldom to be seen in their purity. The stock has been crossed and re-crossed with the Leicesters, and a blended race, in which the characters of the latter prevail, has been the result, inasmuch that the Coniish sheep are now long-woolled. In 1800 Mr. Luccock estimated the number of s/iorNwoolled Cornish sheep as amounting to 203,000, producing 3,382 packs of wool ; but in 1828 Mr. Hubbard states that the Cornish flocks yielded 5,920 packs of loxg wool, and notices neither short-woolled sheep nor their produce. Among the principal breeds of short-woolled sheep the Ryeland must not l)e forgotten. This breed, once the pride of Herefordshire, received its appellation from a distinct of that name, in the southern part of the county, where much rye was grown, and where tiiese sheep were bred in large numbers. It is now however not to be seen in its pure state ; the old breed has been crossed with the Leicester, and the wool has changed its cha- racter, and instead of being short and fine, is of middle length and adapted for combing. The genuine Ryelauds were small-polled sheep, with white foces, the wool growing close around the eyes. The legs were small, the bone light, and the carcase round and compact. The fleece averaged from 1 ^ lb. to 2^ lbs. ; and the weight of the wethers per quarter was from 1 4 lbs. to 1 0 lbs. This breed was extremely hardy, patient of hunger, and capable of thriving on \erj scanty fai-e. Sir Charles Turner, hart., in a communication to Mr. G. Culley, thus describes the routine of treatment to which the Ryelands were habituated in his day : — "The lambs when weaned from the ewes, about midsummer, are put upon old clover and rye-grass, or dry pasture land, and wintered the same, except in snow or xevj severe winter, when they have a little hay or pease-haulm. " The wethers are generally put from the store-sheeji at Michaelmas, when they are past three years old, kept well in the winter, and slaughtered fat the next summer at four years old. Some turn them to feed sooner, but that is when the stock is too large for the keep. The sheep certainly feed better at four years old than sooner, and the flesh is better; indeed they are put to feed at any time that suits the o^^•ner, but should be near fat before winter, or turned off to feed as above ; then they are put to turnips or good dry pasture, and changed often ; sometimes kept in the house and fed with hay and oats, having water always in a trough by them ; this last plan is expensive, but the mutton is excellent, and the weight of the flesh from 50 lbs. to 80 lbs. A Ryeland sheep that will weigh 50 lbs. when good fair mutton, is often fed till he weighs 80 lbs. The store-sheep (except yearlings and two-years, old), upon com-farms, and where the wool is finest, are put in the sheep-cot at night and all the year round, and their racks are filled with pease-haulm, wheat-straw, barley-straw, or any other dry food, which they eat and convert into manure ; this manure enables the farmers to raise good crops of barley, &c. ; and the sheep pasture by day on old clover and rye-grass, dry pasture, fallow, stubble. Sec, but are always kept veiy lean, and graze quite short. When there is not convenience for putting them into the sheep-cot by night all the year, they do it from the begin- ning of winter to April or May, when the lambs are able to lie out by night. The ewes must be kept in by night at the yeaning time, and while the lambs are very young, or the cold nights will kill the lambs, their wool is so very short ; but if they are healthy at a week or fortnight old, they ■will bear to be out at night. " The sheep are pastured upon commons, open fields, or enclosures, provided the land is dry and healthy for sheep, and when there is no conve- nieucy of putting them in a sheep-cot by night at yeaning time. If the ewes can be within doors the lambs bear the cold better ; but if they cannot be put in the house at that time, they should be often visited, and put where they will be best sheltered from the cold." As we have said, this old breed is now inter- mingled principally with the Leicester, and the fleece has become accordingly altered ; it has both THE SHEEP. loy thickened and leugthened in the fibre, and is fitted for other purposes than those to which it was applied while it retained its character as a short- wool pre-eminent forfeiting qualities. The present Herefordshire or Rjeland sheep is a compactly formed and handsome animal, and exceeds the old breed in bulk and stature ; its limbs are fine- boned, its mutton is excellent, and it thrives on pasturage unsuited for the pure Leicesters. Crosses between the Southdowns and the old Ryelauds were once tried, but without any advan- tage ; and when the Merinos were in vogue crosses were tried between them and the latter, but no permanent mixed breed appears to have been established. In order to show the change which has taken place within the last few years in the character of the Hereford breed, we may observe that this county, in 1800, contained 500,000 short-wooUed sheep, furnishing 4,200 packs of wool, the weight of the fleece averaging 2 lbs. In 1828, the number of packs of short wool had diminished to 2,800 ; but no fewer than 5,550 packs of long wool were grown in Herefordshire, the average weight of all the fleeces being 4 lbs. "Such was the change effected in the very territory and domicile of the finest-woolled sheep that England could produce. This fact speaks volumes as to the revolution which is going forward, and plainly points out the farmer's interest and duty." Formerly great numbers of the Herefordshire breed were reared in Gloucestershire, and a valu- able short-woolled breed tenanted the extensive forest of Dean. The importation of foreign short- wools, from which, at less outlay, a superior cloth could be made, led to the neglect of these sheep, or rather to their intermixture with other breeds, and no short wool is now to be obtained from that district. Still in the hills of the northern and eastern parts of Gloucestershire short-woolled sheep of Herefordshire extraction are to be seen ; but in other parts of the county long-woolled Leicesters and half-bred Cotswolds prevail. The same observation applies to Monmouthsliire, where formerly a native short-woolled race existed, vary- ing in size according to the nature of the situation. The mountain sheep were small, and produced very superior mutton when fattened ; the fleece was short and fine. In the more cultivated and lower dis- tricts the sheep were rather larger, and were evidently intermixed with the Ryelands. Short-woolled sheep are still to be seen in the hilly districts, and in some parts the Southdowns are not unsuccessfully cultivated ; but throughout the county generally the long-woolled Cotswold and Leicester sheep are prevalent, and long wool is the standard growth of the county. A similar change has taken place in Worcestershire. For- merly a short-woolled sheep, with the face mottled, and as it is believed of Welsh origin, was preva- lent, and many Ryelands abounded on the waste grounds ; but at the present time a long-woolled race, between the Cotswolds and Leicesters, is chiefly cultivated. But in some places the breed is a mixture between the Leicester ram and the old gray-faced Shropshire ewe. In Shropshire the Cotswolds and Leicesters ha\'e not only gained the ascendancy, but have modified the old breeds, some of which were once celebrated for the fineness of their wool. The old Shropshire sheep were horned, with black or mottled faces and legs ; in stature they equalled the Southdowns, but wei'e not so compactly made, and were longer in the neck. They were active and hardy, and throve on scanty pasturage. The fleece of the wethers averaged 2|-lbs., and the carcase weighed from 14 lbs. to 10 lbs. per quarter. Between this sheep and the Dorset a cross breed, much heavier in the carcase and also in the fleece, was cultivated by many farmers, although the mutton was 'of inferior quality and the fibre of the wool coarser ; the increase of weight however, both in cai'case and fleece, was deemed advan- tageous, and a counterbalance to a somewhat dejjreciated rate of price per pound. In the hilly district^ a smaller variety with finer wool was found ; the flesh of this breed was excellent, but the carcase seldom weighed more than 1 2 lbs. per quarter. In the Clun district, formerly considered as a part of Wales, a small polled sheep with white face and legs prevailed ; the fleece averaged 2| lbs. and the carcase 12 or 14 lbs. per quarter. Of the old Shropshire breeds of sheep that of Morfe or Morf Common was once the most cele- brated, especially for the fineness of its wool, in which it scarcely if at all yielded to the Ryelands. The Morfe, situated on the left bank of the Seveni below Bridgnorth, is a tract of waste land five miles in length and from two to three in breadth, and has from ancient times been noted as a sheep- rearing district. The true Morfe sheep had small horns, and had a black or mottled face and legs ; the fleece was very fine, and weighed about 2 lbs. ; the weight of the wether was about 1 3 lbs. per quarter, of the ewe 9 lbs. When the Merinos were first introduced into England, crosses between them and this breed were expected to succeed, and Dr. Parry commenced his experiments with Morfe ewes, which however he soon exchanged for those of the pure Ry eland breed. Why the Morfe breed should not have answered Dr. Parry's expectations we cannot tell ; certain it is that at one time the wool of the Morfe Common sheep was celebrated for all those qualities in wliich a fine short staple ought to excel. Like all the old races of short- woolled sheep the Morfe breed has become greatly modified, and indeed we may say the same of the 104 THE SHEEP. old Shropshire sheep generally. On the Longmynd range small honied sheep with dusky faces may yet be seen, and on the hills adjacent to Wales a Welsh breed exists remarkable for shortness of limb ; it is polled and white faced, and its fleece is heavy but coarse. In the neighbourhood of the hills and commons a breed between the Southdown and Longmynd is in estimation ; it is very hardy and bites close, is of moderate size, and bears useful wool. In other parts various crosses of the Cotswolds aud Leices- ters prevail, insomuch that the returns of wool from this county are principally of the long staple. In 1828 the packs of short wool were 2,400, those of long wool 5,500 ; and since that date the short wool has been on the rapid decrease. If we turn to the adjacent county of Stafford- shii'e, we find the sheep to be of various characters and crossed by breeds of almost every kind, and especially by the Leicesters ; hence the native stocks have merged into others, so that few of the old pure races are now to be seen. These old races were short-woolled ; one of them was known as the Cannock Heath or Sutton Coldfield sheep ; and the breed, though not in its pristine purity, may be said still to e.xist. It is polled, and gray, brown, or black faced, with dusky legs, and bears a close compact fleece, inferior in quality to that of the Southdowns. The limbs are slender, the mutton is good, and the sheep fatten on a moderate supply of food, becoming ripe for the butcher at the age of three years. The wethers average from 15 lbs. to 20 lbs. per quarter, but may he fed to a greater weight. An improved breed of this sheep called the Tedderley resulted from the efforts of Sir Edward Lyttleton; its wool was of a finer quality than that of the old stock, and the weight of the carcase was superior, though the fore- quaiters are light compared with the hind-quarters, which were heavy. The ewes were good breeders and nurses, aud the lambs were ready for the butcher in May and June. Crosses were afterwards made between the Ted- derley stock and the Southdowns and Leicesters. Had the demand for home-grown short wool conti- nued, the former cross would no doubt have proved most advantageous ; there was an affinity between the two breeds, and the intermixture was promising ; but long wool began to be alone required from the English grower. The cross however between the improved Cannock Heath or Tedderley breed and the Leicesters, from which much perhaps was expected, was not altogether successful. The ■weight of the carcase was increased, the wool was converted into long staple, but the sheep were delicate aud unfit for their pasturage. On the commons of West Staffordshire a light black-faced sheep was prevalent, and still exists, although coNsiderably modified. The males were horned, and the wool was fine. Various crosses have conti'ihuted to the amelioration of this stock, without obscuring altogether its original charac- ters ; yet these will soon disappear, perhaps have now almost entirely become effaced, for flocks of Leicesters are spreading over the county ; and though on a few farms Sussex Southdowns are reared, long-woolled sheep are in the ascendancy, and long wool is the principal growth of Stafford- shire. Formerly Cheshire reared short-woolled sheep, and the flocks fed on the heaths and commons may be still placed among the short or middle-woolled varieties. Among these the Delamere breed may be noticed ; these sheep are small, have brown, black, or mottled faces and legs, and most have small horns ; they weigh about 10 lbs. per quarter, but the mutton is excellent, and the wool is short and very fine, the fleece seldom exceeding l^lb. In other parts of Cheshire are to be found sheep of all breeds and crosses ; they are fed chiefly for home consumption, and purchased from the adjacent counties. Cheshire is not a sheep district ; it is divided into small farms, and cheese is its staple agrarian produce. Sheep-husbandry, in the true sense of the term, is in fact little practised in this county, and the few flocks that are kept are sold off as soon as they return any profit, aud seldom remain on the farm over the year. While noticing the breeds of sheep, or rather the short-woolled breeds, peculiar to the counties bordering upon Wales, it may be as well, before proceeding northwards, to cross the boundary line (now merely imaginary) which divides England and the Principality, and take a survey of the principal raees of sheep for which this latter section of our island is or has been celebrated. Wales has long boasted her mountain sheep, not without cause ; and Wel>h mutton is deservedly celebrated. It is small, fine-grained, of very superior flavour when in season, and sells at a high price in the London market, where, owing to the quick transit of railroads, much more is received than formerly, when the sheep had to be driven on foot and pass from hand to hand before they reached their ultimate destination. The Welsh sheep gene- rally speaking are wild, restless, and wandering, aud not easily confined in small or even moderate enclosures, for ordinary fences or hedges are seldom capable of restraining them, nor do they submit, like tamer sheep, to the discipline or manage- ment of the shepherd. Some of these sheep are homed, others are hornless. They vary too in colour, from white to dingy brown or gray, and black individuals are not unfrequent. They are active, vigorous, and surefooted, and clamber among the mountain rocks with the utmost address. Their wool is short, but varying in the quality aud weight of the fleece according to breed or pasturage. THE SHIiEP. lOS Turning first to Glamorganshire, a maritime county of South Wales, it may be observed that this county is covered with mountains, some of which branch off from the principal range that extends east and west through Brecknockshire into Caermarthenshire. The centre of the county is occupied by a group of mountains branching off in every direction except the north, and having its chief extension from east to west, from the valley of Cynon to that of the Neath. On the south of this range the country is fertile and well adapted for horned cattle ; but on the north the hills yield a coarse and scanty pasturage, well fitted for the hardy breed of sheep which time immemorial have occupied this tract and the adjacent districts. The native sheep are remarkable for a small head and a long, erect, and somewhat deer-like neck ; the fore-quarters are light and the breast and shoulders narrow, as are also the back and loins ; the legs are long and small boned ; the head sometimes horned, sometimes polled, and the colour variable. These sheep are active, unquiet, and restless. Their fleece averages 2 lbs., and the quality of the wool is good. Many flocks, however, have the wool deteriorated by the number of kemps or hairs which grow amongst it. The sheep are regularly shorn in May or June ; but in many places the newly grown wool is clipped close about the neck and fore-quartei's at Michaelmas, a practice the more excusable, as this wool would be all torn away during the autumn, winter, and spring, in conse- quence of the animals forcing their way through briars, rough thickets, and masses of furze in search of food. Many farmers shear the lambs in the first summer, a practice by no means to be commended, inasmuch as they require a warm coat to serve as a protection against the chilly breezes of autumn and the severities of winter. It is true that the thorns of the thickets and briars may make the coat somewhat ragged, but this is of little conse- quence in comparison with their comfort and health, besides which teggor hogget wool is more valuable than that of the lamb. We believe that this plan of lamb shearing is greatly on the decline, and abandoned by the best farmers. Another plan, now almost if not quite obsolete, is that of weaning the lambs at an early age for the sake of the milk of the ewes. It was once a general custom to milk the ewes morning and evening from the middle of May to September. Each ewe on an average yielded two pints of milk per day, from which in the course of the season about twenty pounds of cheese were obtained. Generally the ewes' milk was added to a considerable proportion of cows' milk, and thus the cheese was of a mLved kind, and less rich than that procured from ewes' milk alone. This custom, though it may linger in some isolated spots remote from the influence of progressive improvement, is given up by all good farmers. It cannot he too much reprobated. In the first place,, the lambs being stinted in their natural nutriment, do not advance as they ought in growth and strength, and consequently are aftei-wards less valuable than they would have been under a better system. In the second place, the drainage of the ewes till autumn reduces them to a low condition at a time in which they ought to be in full health and vigour ; lOG THE SHEEP. hence, though few comparaLively prove barren, it is very seldom that twins are produced, and when this occurs they are feeble. As we have said, however, the practice of milking the ewes, once common in Wales, is becoming extinct, and is only adhered to by those who pertinaciously cling to old habits, regardless of the dictates of reason, and swayed by prejudice. It must not be supposed that no attempts have been made towards the improvement of the Welsh sheep, nor that these attempts have not been more or less successful, especially in the vales and lower grounds, where the sheep exceeded in size those of the hills, and produced a heavier fleece. In due time the practice of turnip husbandry began to be introduced, enabling the farmer not only to keep more sheep but sheep of a heavier breed, and to fatten them more expeditiously. It was then that the vale sheep began to be crossed with Leicesters and hardier though larger Cotswolds, till at length these breeds in most parts of the vale of Glamorgan acquired the ascendancy ; so that now, instead of the native race, Cotswolds and Leicesters mingling in various proportions are almost exclusively to be seen there. In some parts crosses with the Southdowns have answered well ; nor have the Cheviots been unsuccessfully cultivated. They require to be brought from the hills to the low lands in winter, and defended from the rigours of the season. By care and good management they may be made to answer, but they will never supersede the moun- tain sheep of Wales in its own stronghold. These mountain sheep abound in the high lands of Brecknockshire, and are the chief dependance of the hill farmer. From the dryness of the soil, and from better and finer herbage, these sheep are superior to those of Glamorganshire, and yield better wool. The ewes are brought down from the hills in winter, and not taken back till the cold weather has ceased, and the lambs ai'e strong enough to bear exposure. In this county within the last fifty years agriculture has greatly im- proved. l\Iore manure is put upon the fertile lands, cropping is better understood, and turnips generally cultivated. The same observations apply to Caermarthenshire also, in the valleys of which Cotswold and Leicester sheep, but particularly the former, are now naturalized, while the original mountain sheep retain possession of the hilly tracts. We may, in fact, say the same as regards the counties of South Wales generally. Wher- ever a spirit of improvement manifests itself, we find in the enclosed vale-farms sheep of different breeds and various crosses, more or less valuable ; but the mountains are tenanted by the old Welsh breed, varying in minor particulars, according to the care bestowed upon the flocks during winter and the sufficiency of the pasturage. In many districts these sheep were once sadly neglected ; nothing was done for them during the winter, no shelter was provided for them against storms, and serious losses, especially among the lambs and old ewes, were of common occmTenee. This mismanagement of the hill sheep was notorious in Cardigansliire ; but within late years a great altera- tion for the better has taken place, as in other parts of the Principality, and the march of improve- ment, not only in affairs relating to husbandry, but in general knowledge, 'is almost everywhere rapidly progressive. In 1809 Mr. Luccock cal- culated that South Wales produced 5,700 packs of wool of short staple ; but a considerable quantity of long wool is now grown, while the quantity of short wool has perhaps somewhat diminished. If we turn from South to North Wales, we find the moun- tains occupied by small sheep, more or less allied to those of South Wales — wild, active, and hardy, and celebrated for the excellence of their mutton. In Montgomeryshire, for example, great numbers of hill sheep are kept. In the south and west a small white-faced breed prevails. During the summer these sheep are pastured on the hills; but oh the approach of winter the ewes and lambs are brought down into the low grounds for the sake of food and warmth. The wethers, however, are mostly left to provide for themselves on the moun- tains, without any artificial shelter or provision for their support. In the north-east portion of the county a small black-faced hreed is found, and is much valued an account of its hardiness. These sheep are not in perfection till upwai-ds of four years old. The fleece of both breeds of hill sheep is very fine, but of little weight, averaging about H lb. In the valleys a larger breed of sheep, crossed by the Shropshire and other races, is culti- vated.. The fleece of this valley breed weighs about 2 lbs., and the carcase gives 14 lbs. per quarter ; that of the hill sheep about 1 0 lbs. • In Denbighshire and Flintshire the sheep are of various breeds, and not very numerous ; as else- where, a small race prevails on the hills, but in other parts English sheep of various crosses and various qualities are cultivated. In Merioneth- shire, a mountainous district, sheep-farming is the staple business of the agriculturist, and the hreed of sheep are celebrated. Those sheep of pure strain are of small size, with light bone, and their mutton is pre-eminent. The weight raj'ely ex- ceeds 10 lbs. per quarter, and the fleece averages 1| lbs., but its quality is good, and it is largely used in the manufacture of Welsh flannel. The sheep of the best race and purest strain are sup- posed to be those bred at the base of Cader Idris, and the rams from that quarter ai'e in general request. It is the practice in this county to clip the THE SHEEP. 107 sheep twice in the year, from a veiy mistaken idea that finer wool is thus procured. We need not enter into minutiae to show the contrary, as we have ah-eady alluded to the mode of growth and the characters of wool. The ewes generally yean in March and April, and, in order to prepare against this occurrence, they are brought down from the hills into the sheltered valleys, and here the lambs are fed during the first winter. With this exception, the flocks generally spealdng pass all their time on the mountains, where they roam in almost uncon- trolled freedom. Passing from Merionethshire to Caemai-von- shire, a land of mountains among, which Carnedd Llewelyn (3,471 feet), CarneddDafydd (3,429 feet), and Snowdon (3,557 feet) are conspicuous, we still find the mountains covered wth sheep, many of which are honied. These sheep are small, averaging 9 or 10 lbs. per quarter ; but in the lower grounds, and towards the Straits of Menai, they are some- what larger, and average from 14 to 16 lbs. per quarter. These sheep, like those of Merionethshire, bear the impress of a semi-wild race, and through- out the whole year range the mountains, feeding upon the short pasturage. In some districts, how- ever, they are driven to lower grounds dm-ing the winter, or are depastured on home sheep-walks, and many farmers hire winter pasture for the year- lings. Hardy must the flocks be which are exposed on the hills to the severities of the winter storms. Little or no provision is made for them, nor is any protection afforded them by smearing, either in this county or in other parts of Wales generally. Yet on the produce of these sheep do the hill fanners chiefly, if not wholly, depend. The wethers are sold at about four years old, and the wool is worth lOd. or Is. per lb., the fleece averaging about 2 lbs. Crossing the Straits of Menai into the Isle of Anglesey we find several breeds, some original, some crossed, and of course varying in size and qualities. The old bi-eed of Anglesey was generally hornless, black or dun faced, or mottled, long in the neck, high in the legs, long in the cai'case, and narrow in the loin ; the wool fine, and of medium length. This breed, now impi'oved, averages from 16 lbs. to 18 lbs. per quarter, taking the wether at two or three years old. Besides this breed, which in some respects approximates to the Southdown, a white-faced variety is occasionally to be seen, but is most probably the result of some early cross. The tnie Anglesey sheep holds out every pros- pect of improvement to the judicious farmer. Its wool equals that of the Southdowns, it has a remarkable aptitude to fatten, and is ripe at an early age, the fat being laid on inwardly, and rendering the sheep heavier than might be expected from its external contour ; the mutton is first-rate. The ewes are prolific, generally producing twins ; they are good nurses, and after the lambs are weaned will continue for some time to afford milk for cheese-making. Here however as elsewhere in Wales the sheep are too much neglected, important as they are ; and in this particular the contrast between mountain Wales and mountain Scotland is very decided. Anglesey however is a black cattle cUstrict, and raises a good quality of com ; sheep here being of secondary importance ; nevertheless many intelligent farmers and proprietors have paid attention to the improvement of the sheep, not vath- out considerable success. Among other sheep which were tried by way of a cross, the Merinos were made use of, and the cross breed produced a decidedly improved fleece ; but what it gained in superiority of fleece was lost in hardiness of con- stitution. Hence to a certain extent the experiment failed, though traces of the intennixture as evidenced by the character of the wool are not altogether obliterated. A cross between the Leicesters and the Angleseys was also effected with variable success ; the Cotswolds were also tried, and a blended strain between Angleseys, Leicesters, and Cotswolds is kept up on many farms. The hardy, active, black-faced sheep of the Peak of Derbyshire were also tried, but nothing was gained by the cross, for the wool of these sheep being inferior to that of the native race, no improvement in this respect was obtained, nor yet in qualities bearing more immediately on the interest of the feeder and butcher ; the mixture was that of one hardy mountain breed with another. The Southdowns were also introduced by several agri- culturists, but the mixed breed did not turn out altogether so advantageous as might have been expected, though the trial could not be called a positive failm-e. Some breeders tried the white faced Yorkshire sheep, and not uusuccessfullj', either as regards the increased weight of the fleece or of the carcase, while at the same time the cross breed su3"ered little diminution in hardiness. Among the most promising crosses that of the Cotswolds with the pure Angleseys may be said to be the most successful. The Cotswolds are, it is true, long-wooUed sheep, but they are hardy, active, and enduring, lighter than the Leicesters, and content with poorer fare. While adding to the weight and length of the wool of the original I Angleseys, they deprive not the cross breed of those ' qualities which fit it for its peculiar home : though perhaps it is less adapted for the rigid starving system once too prevalent not only in Anglesey but throughout the Principality in general. A better order of things however is now in the ascendancy ; the railroads render the transit of Welsh mountain sheep, whether alive or in the carcase, to the metropolis so easy and expeditious 108 THE SHEEP. that it is the interest of the farmer to get his sheep ripe as early as possible for the market. Welsh mutton is no longer a rarity, though it commands a good price ; every farmer soon dis- covers in what direction his interest lies, and when •a field for competition is fairly open a spur is at once given to enterprise. This involves general improvements, the outlay of capital, an amended system of husbandry, attention to the breeds whether of sheep or of cattle ; in short, to a reform in all the old practices which had little to recommend them, but to which prejudice clung with its wonted pertinacity. Mr. Luccock calculated the number of sheep in North Wales to amount to .571,000, yielding 3,570 packs of short wool. Within late years an increasing quantity of long wool is grown, but to what amount it is not very easy to determine with precision. In the meantime a great change has taken place in the domestic economy of the Welsh peasantry as respects the manufacture of wool; once throughout the whole of the Principality home-grown wool was manufactured, at least as far as the spinning went, into materials for dress and furnitu)-e. Woollen was the common attire of both sexes ; felt hats, coarse cloaks, strong flannels, and stuffs were in ordinary use, and yarn was prepared for knitted stockings. Now the wool is sent to the adjacent markets, and passes into the hands of various manufacturers ; part is returned in various forms to the growers, and part is sent elsewhere. Welsh flannel still retains its deserved reputation, and in North Wales a consi- derable quantity is manufactured, as are also various kinds of coarse cloth, which finds a ready sale. Even since the year 1839 considerable changes have taken place. Mr. M'Culloch, speaking of the woollen manufactures of Wales (1839, observes that these are principally situated in the counties of Montgomery, Merioneth, and Denbigh. The product consists principally of webs, flannels, stockings, socks, wigs, and gloves. " The webs manufactured in North Wales are distinguished into two sorts ; strong or high country cloth, and small or low countiy cloth. The first kind is made in Mei-ioneth, principally on the domestic system, although in some parts there are factories. Almost every little farmer makes webs, and few cottages are without a loom. In some cases the manufacturing farmers supply wool of their own growth, but it is principally bought from the woolstaplers and skinners. All kinds are used indiscriminately, and the qualities of the manufactured article are very various. There is a market for strong cloth at Shrewsbury, but it is customary for the drapers of that town to travel into the country and buy goods wherever they find them. It is usual also for the principal drapers to keep servants the greater part of the year among the manufacturers who get acquainted with them, assist those who are poor to purchase wool, and superintend the making and dressing of tlie goods. A good deal of the strong cloth is exported, but a very considerable quantity is retained at home for workmen's jackets, ironing cloths, blankets, &c. The small cloth is manufactured in Denbigh- shire, in that tract of countiy which includes Llan- gollen and Corwen. The factoiy system has not yet been applied to this article. The raw material is procured from the neighbourhood of Oswestry, and is sorted into two kinds, the finer part being manufactured into a sort of flannel, called Oswestry flannel, while the coarser is made into small cloth. Most of this is sent abroad. " Flannels form the most valuable and important article of the Welsh manufactures. They are principally made in Montgomeryshire, but not entirely so, for they are also made in various places, within a circle of about twenty miles round Welshpool. The manu- facture used to be principally conducted on the domestic system, but there are now many manufac- tories in which it is cai-ried on. In Shropahire too, into which the manufacture has spread itself, machineiy is pretty generally employed. A market for flannels is held at Welshpool eveiy alternate week. Formerly the manufacturers used to bring thither their goods, but now a set of middlemen go about the country and buy all the flannel they . can lay their hands on. At this market nothing is sold on credit, every piece being paid for as soon as measured ; and a similar system prevails at the other woollen markets throughout the Principality. Stockings, socks, wigs, and gloves are made prin- cipally in the town and neighbourhood of Bala." Since 1 839, the factory system has been gaining the ascendancy, and the manufacture of goods in the farmer's house, or in the cottages of the peasantry, has gradually declined. Nor is this change to be wondered at — a better and cheaper article can be thrown into the market from the manufactory than could be got up in the loom of the cottager ; in short, as far as regards woollen manufactures, Wales is losing its original character, and identifying itself with the general routine of the fiictorial system, now dominant throughout the kingdom. In some jolaces, no doubt, the wool is spun and woven at home, and a sort of patriarchal simplicity, not to say nideness, still obtains ; but even in these spots, coarse and simple articles are alone prepared — a home-made Welsh uhittle (a kind of shawl) cannot, as we can testify, be now procured. But is this to be regretted ? Certainly not. Let the husbandman pursue his duties, improve his lauds, cultivate his sheep, bring heavier and more acceptable fleeces into the market, and gain his reward. What has he to do with carding, and spinning, and weaving? Before the THE SHEEP. 109 jDowers of steam were ajiplied to machineiy, befoi'e machinery itself \Yas brought to perfection, before the progress of commercial enterprise, long retarded by a combination of circumstances, had overpassed the mountain ranges of the land of the Cymri, the necessity of coarsehome-made materials for clothing is appai-ent; but time passes on, and all things change with time — fashions, customs, opinions, our modes of agricultm'e, the characters of our most important domestic animals, our manufactures, our roads, and our seaports, all suffer a change, may we not say into "something rich and strange," certainly into something which our forefathers never anticipated, even in their most ardent speculations. Passing from North Wales into the more uortheni counties of England, we find various breeds of heath sheep depasturing on the hilly tracts of country, not, however, unmixed -nith sheep of many other races and intermixtures. Of these Leicesters, Southdowns, Herefords, Cotswolds, and Cheviots may all be seen. Lancashire is a great manufacturing county, and sheep husbandly is not its forte, yet in some of the hilly parts, towards Yorkshire, an original homed breed termed the Woodland sheep is still to be found, and this stock extends even into Scotland ; not that it is kept as a pure breed in all places, on the contrary, it is variably crossed and thereby much modified, according to the suitability of the pasturage and the views of the farmer. For this purpose. South- downs on the one hand, and lono-woolled Leicesters ou the other, have been put into the field, to the increase, in both instances, in the weight of the carcase in the cross-strain, and in that of the latter to the augmentation of the weight and value of the wool. On the borders of Lancashire, adjoining the county of Westmorland, a horned breed of sheep with white legs and faces is prevalent. This is known as the Silvei-dale breed, and is peculiar to tracts of rocky limestone. The wool is of moderate length and good quality, and the sheep ripens early and affords excellent mutton. In Westmorland the mountains and bai'ren wilds are tenanted by sheep similar to those of the hilly parts of Lancashire, but in the lower grounds and good pastures mixed races of long-woolled sheep prevail. The same remarks apply to Cum- berland, on the mountains of which a rough-legged breed, with a thin meagre carcase and coarse hairy wool, is still common, although in some parts it is now improved, and especially by a cross with what is called the Herdwick breed. The Herdwick breed is said to be of Scotch extraction, and to have been introduced into Cumberland in a veiy singular manner. It would appear from Mr. Youatt's statement that early in the last centuiy a ship was stranded on the coast of Cumberland, having on board some peculiar sheep, which, as is asserted, came from Scotland, although none of like characters are to be found in that portion of our island at the present time. These sheep were got on shore, and were purchased by several farmers who lived at Wasdale-head in the neighbourhood of Keswick, who at once perceived their superiority to the native mountain sheep. They are small, well made, active, and polled, the faces and legs being more or less mottled with black. Their Heece is of moderate fineness, and very close set. When wandering uncontrolled over the mountains, they display remarkable instinctive sagacity, both in foreseeing the approach of snow-storms, and in choosing situations free from the danger of being overwhelmed. When the stomi comes, they seek the most exposed part of the mountain, where the violence of the wind sweeps the snow onwards, without allowing it to lodge and accumulate, and there huddled together they keep stirring about so as to trample down the snow, and to await the sub- sidence of the tempest. Their matted close fleeces enable them to resist the severity of the cold ; they require in winter little or no hay, but moving about from spot to spot, they scrape away the snow until they come to the herbage buried beneath it ; no sheep in fact could be better fitted for the locality into which accident, according to the above account, had thrown them. The farmers soon regarded them wth unwonted interest and satisfac- tion, and those who owned them formed themselves into a sort of club or society, with the express object of preventing the spread of these sheep as much as possible, and of keeping the stock exclu- sively in their own hands. They came to the resolution never to sell a ram, nor more than five ewe lambs in one season; but with all their care they failed in accomplishing their selfish, unpa- tiiutic design. The breed spread, and more or less influenced the native stock, not only in many parts of Cumberland but of Westmorland also. The Herdwick breed is noted for its hardiness, a better wool than that of the old race, and the superiority of the mutton. The wethers are in their prime at three or four years old, and are said to be in prime season from June to September, when the aromatic heath plants are in bloom, the flesh acquiring at this time the richest flavour, The weight of the carcase is from 1 0 lbs. to 12 lbs per quarter. The ewes are kept as long as they will breed often till twelve or fifteen _years of age. The lamb ing season is in May. In the rearing and manage- ment of the lambs the shepherd has little trouble. They are well defended by wool and are active and hardy. Whence the term Herdwick was applied to this breed is not veiy clear. It is stated that the word has reference to the custom of fai-ming out the flocks to herdsmen, who retained a certain number 110 THE SHEEP. of tliem in lieu of wages ; and Mr. Culley says, " The mountains (of Hardknot, Scalefell, Wry- nose, &c.) upon which these sheep are bred belong to Lord Muncaster, as do also the flocks that depas- ture upon them, which have from time immemorial been farmed out to herds at a yearly sum. From this circumstance these farms, three or four in number, have obtained the name of Herdwicks, that is, the district of the Herds, and the sheep the appellation of Herduick sheep, They have gained such a character for hardiness of constitution that Mr. Tyson, who farms the principal flock, sells a number of rams every year (to improve the hardi- ness of other flocks) into various parts of the adjoining counties. The price is often as high as two guineas and a half." It would appear from Mr. Culley 's account that he considers these sheep not as imported but as indigenous in a certain district of Cumberland. It is, he says, " peculiar to that high, exposed, rocky, mountainous district at the head of the Duddon and Esk rivers, more particularly known by the names of Hardknot, Scalefell, and Wrynose." Be this as it may, and we confess we know not on what authority the account of their arrival in a vessel stranded on the coast of Cumberland rests, this breed has much improved the ordinar}' liill race. The cross breeds, however, are mostly homed and generally mottled about the face and legs, sometimes black. They are active and hardy, high in the shoulders, and inclined to be narrow in the back and flat in the sides. The wool is coarse. In the low and fertile lands many flocks of Leicesters are now established, and a considerable quantity of long wool is grown, but to what precise amount we have no data for ascertaining. Mr. Luccock estimated the number of packs of short wool at 5,915, averaging each fleece at S-^lbs. In the low and more fertile parts of Cumber- land flocks of Leicesters are to be seen, and mixed breeds of long-vvooUed sheep, to which great atten- tion is paid. In Northumberland great changes have of late years taken place in sheep husbandry. This county, indeed, stands pre-eminent for scientific farming, for an improved mode in the cultivation of turnips, and for the rearing and fattening of cattle. Turnips occupy a large portion of almost every fami. They are not sown broad-cast, but by drilling on narrow flat-topped ridges into which the fields are laid by means of the plough and a roller, having been previously well manured. By this system abundance of food is secured for sheep, of which the improved Leicesters are extensively cultivated, and in some places Southdowns, together with other breeds of excellence. But besides these the mountain districts have their own races. In the west of Northumberland the black-faced horned mountain race, which extends over Scotland, chiefly prevails ; but the Cheviot hills, which, notwithstanding their eleva- tion and their conical peaks, are covered, excepting in boggy parts, with a fine green turf, affording excellent pasturage for sheep, are the original nursery of a peculiar breed called the Cheviot, which in Scotland contests for superiority with the black-faced. On the Cheviot range this breed has existed from time immemorial, but has lately been im- proved, principally by a system of crossing with the Leicesters, not so much as respects the wool but the weight and contour of the carcase. The Cheviot breed aTe hornless, the faces and legs in general white. The best kinds have a fine open countenance, with lively prominent eyes. The body is long, the forequarter wanting in depth in the breast, and breadth both there and on the chine. The legs are fine, clear, and small boned ; the pelt thin; weight of carcase when fat from 12 lbs. to 18 lbs. per quarter; fleece from 2^ lbs. to 3^ lbs. The wool is not all fine, there being only 2 lbs. of fine wool and 1 lb. of coarse wool in a fleece weigh- ing 3 lbs. Such is a summary of Mr. Culley 's description of the Cheviots of his day, which he states were then in progress of impi'ovement. These sheep still retain the name of long sheep, iu contradis- tinction to the short-bodied black-faced breed. They are full behind the shoulder, and the fore- quarters are justly proportioned to the hind ; they are straight in the back, round on the rib, clean and small boned in the limbs ; the wool is fine, and comes forward behind the ears, but leaves the face uncovered ; it is however inferior to what it was before the improvement of the carcase commenced, and is longer. It is useful for many combing purposes, but quite unfitted for the manufacture of iine cloth, to which it was once applied. It is only adapted, according to Mr. Varley (evidence before the House of Lords. 1828), to make "low coatings and flushings." The Cheviot sheep is capable of enduring much cold and privation; it possesses considerable fattening properties, the wethers being ripe for the butcher at two years of age, and averaging from 15 lbs. to 18 lbs. the quarter. They may however be fattened to a much greater weight, and some have been exhibited weighing 30 lbs. or 32 lbs. the quarter. The mutton is excellent. This descrip- tion ajiplies to the Cheviots with a cross of the Leicester. In all that regards size, form, and con- tour, they are superior to the old breed ; but the wool has become coarser and longer. The fleece is not now short and close, as it was when Sir John Sinclair in 1792 described the old breed before it was changed by intermixture with the Lcicestei-s, perhaps in too partial terms. THE SHEEP. Ill \ ) '' '-'-^. That there is room for improvement in the wool of the Cheviots, cannot be doubted, and by careful selection of the breeding stock, it might doubtless be rendered finer in the pile — perhaps shorter, and at the same time closer and thicker than it usually is at present, so as to form a more impenetrable covering ; and again, the pro- portion of coarse wool in the fleece, which Mr. Culley estimates at one-third, and which is not much if at all altered in the new breed, might be greatly reduced, so as to render the fleece more equal universally in point of fineness and felting properties. At the same time the wool of the Cheviots is far superior to that of the black-faced breed, and is worth more in value (especially when white or unsmeared), by upwards of fifty per ceut. On the other hand it cannot be compai'ed ■with that of the Southdowns. We must not how- ever forget that considerable improvement has already been effected, and in process of time the Cheviots will utterly supersede the black-faced in the northern mountain ranges. We cannot here avoid quoting a passage from Mr. Culley, which is worthy of that enterprising and skilful breeder, whose judgment of the live stock of his time was almost unequalled. " As knowledge," he says, " is progressive, we cannot expect the perfection of this breed of sheep can be obtained at once ; it must proceed by slow gradations, as eveiy other improvement has done. It is a great point gained that we admit defects, and are desii'ous to amend them. " That breed of sheep which brings the most profit to the farmer will always be pursued by him, whatever his situation ; but that object is not to be obtained in this district (the Cheviot district and the Yike) from Jine wool alone. Perfect mountain sheep should be hardy, well formed, and quick feeders. These qualities will always recom- mend them to the grazier, who will never purchase a slow feeding animal while he can get one of a different sort, though at a considerably advanced price. But if to these qualities, so essential to the sale of a mountain farmer's stock, can be added & fleece of fine icool, a breed of sheep would then be obtained the properest for a hilly district of any we have yet seen.* There is little doubt but this may be accomplished by proper selection, and probably the best kind of Cheviot sheep, from their hai'diuess and producing a portion of fine wool, are the properest stock for laying the founda- tion of so desirable an improvement." In shape and quick feeding, the Cheviots have been improved ; this cannot be denied ; and now by proper selection the fleece is in progress of improvement. With respect to the black-faced or short sheep, as they are termed in contradistinction to the Clieviots, a few obseiTations may be here made, in order to point out then- chief characters. ^ * It is not the value per pound, which constitutes the farmer's profit, but the value per Jieece ; or rather that breed is the best that brings the most profit in Jieece and carcase jointly from the same ground in equal times. On the side of the fleece, and on that of the carcase, there must be a s,on of give and itud Norwich to watch their prosperity. J 2 148 THE SHEEP. honour and reception abroad, as hath sufficiently been witnessed by the constant amity whicli for many hundred years hath been inviolably kept up between the kings of England and the dukes of Burgamdy only for the benefit of the wool ; whose subjects receiving the English wool at sixpence a-pound, returned it (through the manufacture of those industrious people) in cloth at ten shillings a-yard, to the great enriching of that state, both in revenue to their sovereign and in employment to their subjects, which occasioned the merchants of England to transport their whole families in no small numbers into Flanders, from whence they had constant trade to most parts of the world. And this intercourse of trade between Burgundy and England endured till Edward III. made his mighty concpests over France and Scotland ; when, finding fortmie more favourable in prospering his achievements than his allegiate subjects were able to maintain, he at once projected how to enrich his people, and to people his new-conquered dominions ; and both these he designed to accomplish by means of his English commodity, wool ; all which he effected, though not without great difficulties and oppositions, for he was not only to bring back his own subjects home, who were and had long been settled in those parts with their families, many of whi(-h liad not so certain habitations in England as in Flanders, but he was also to invite clothiers over to convert his wools into clothing, and these were the subjects of another prince, or else the stoppage of the stream would choke the mill, and then not only would clothing be everywhere lost, but the materials resting upon his English subject's hands would soon ruin the whole gentry and yeomanry for want of vending their wools. Now to show how King Edward smoothed these rough and uneven passages, were too tedious to this short narrative, though otherwise in their contrivance they maj' be foimd to be ingenious, pleasing, and of great use. "But this it must be granted, that Kmg Edward was wise, as well as victorious ; for upon a visitation made by himself to the Duke of Bur- gundy, during his residence there, he employed such able agents among the Flemish clothiers, (as barely i;pou his promises) he j^revailed with great numbers of them to come into England soon after him, where he most royally performed those promises in giving not only the free denization to them, but he likewise invested them with privi- leges and immunities beyond those of his native subjects, which peculiarities their posterities enjoy to this day. But for the more sure establishment, and before these preparations came into effect. King Edward upon his return called a Parliament, and that in the beginning of his reign, where he so wrought with the Commons' House (who had not the least knowledge that the King had moulded the design) as after long debate (which all motions in that house ought to undergol, it was presented to the Lords, and so to the King, who, among other objections, urged the loss which must neces- sarily befal his revenue, as well in respect of the outward subsidy of a noble upon each sack of wool which was to be transported, as upon the inward custom which the cloth paid upon return according to the rates then established. But these soon met with an expedient ; for the cloth in time to come must needs yield a far greater custom upon that which was to pass into all parts of the woi'ld from England, than it could upon that small return which came only to the service of England ; and therefore, for the wool wdiich from that time forward was to be wrought in England, and of which none in any sort, without the king's especial licence, was to be transjiorted, the parliament gave unto the king a subsidy of a noble upon a sack." " Seventy families of Walloons were in the first year brought to England by the invitations and promises of Edward. He kept his royal word to all of them. The greater part were at first settled in Kent ; but they were by degrees re- moved to different parts, and scattered over the whole face of England. They shifted their resi- dence according to the facility with which they could obtain water and fuel, or the material on which they worked. The greater ■number finally settled in Yorkshire, Gloucester, and the western counties." It was in the year 1 387, while Edward was making preparations for a war against Philip of France, that he entered into a treaty with the Flemings, who were apprehensive of being op- pressed by Philip ; and at that juncture the par- liament was called for the purpose of settling the wool trade. This parliament was held about the middle of March, and it was enacted that no wool of English growth should be transported beyond sea, and that all cloth-workers should be received from whatever foreign parts they came, and be encouraged. — JRymer's Fad., iv. It was also en- acted that none should wear any cloths made beyond sea, except the lung, queen, and their children ; also that none should wear foreign furs or silks, unless he was worth one hundred pounds of yearly rent. At this period Edward was in his twenty-fifth year. At this time then came the Flemings, and with them the prosperity of the woollen manufactures, insomuch that in 1354, Edward being pressed for money in order to carry on his war with France and Scotland, the parlia- ment granted him a subsidy of fifty shillings upon every sack of wool sold in the kingdom* for six * Accordinp; to 'RTieeler, this tax was upon all exported ■n-ool ; but surely the coimtry could not afibrd the export of so enoiTnous a quantity of wool yearly, independent of what it used for home consumpiion.— (See Rapln Hiit. Engl.: Edw. III., AD. 1354.) Wheeler says it amounted to 100,000 sacks a-y ear, or 36,400,000 lbs . THE SHEEP. years. This subsidy is said to have amounted to more than 300,000 marks (of silver?) yearly. We may easily conceive to what extent the flocks were multiplied, and of the activity prevalent through the manufactories. In time, however, the stores of wool, much as was used, began to accumulate, and the ports were again opened for its exportation, and great quantities were imported at a high price into Flanders, Brabant, &c. &c. Indeed, as we have said in a quotation from Mr. M'Culloch, it does not appear that even in the year 1337 the exportation of wool was prohibited, ex- cepting till measures were matured for subjecting it to a duty ; in proportion, however, to the in- crease of the growth of wool, so would be that of its exportation. On this point there is some degree of confusion, nor does it appear at what precise time the ports for outward-bound wool were opened. Probably they were never truly closed. With respect to the exportation of manufactured goods, it would seem that in 1354 broad-cloths, to the number of 4,774^ pieces, of the value of 40s. each, and amounting to £9,549, and also various pieces of worsted goods of various kinds, valued at 1 Os. 8d. the piece, and amounting to £6,717 18s. id., were exported. On these the duty was £215 13s. 7d., and the whole amount of the value of the goods and the duty was £16,481 lis. lid. On the other hand, there was an importation of 1 832 broad-cloths of the value of £6 each, and, with the duty, amounting to £11,083 ]2s., leaving a balance in favour of the imports of £5,397 19s. lid. " But the whole commerce of the year left a balance in favour of the exports of £255,214 13s. Sd., 01% computing the difference in the value of money and the expense of living, £3,825,220 5s. — a most extraordinary balance, and showing the frugality of the times, and the resources of the country." (See Youatt, and also Misselden's Circle of Commerce, p. 119.) To trace the history and progress of the woollen manufactures from their starting point in the reign of Edward III., through all their phases to the present day, would be a long and toilsome labour, as wearisome to the reader as to the writer, and indeed, even if dates and figures were correct and authorities unimpeachable, such statistics would be of little intei'est either to the breeder of sheep, the wool-stapler, or the manufacturer, still less to the public in general. Let us come at once to more recent periods — as we pass along, however, we can- not but notice the statutes of Edward IV., framed for the express purpose of putting down machinery ! and the statutes of Philip and Mary, prohibiting any clothier out of a borough, market town, or corporate town, from having more than one loom, and any weaver dwelling out a city from having more than two looms ; and not only this, but the act prohibits the making of any white woollen cloths in any place where their manufacture had not been established for ten years. It further interdicts any one from setting up the trade of a weaver, unless he have served an apprenticeship of seven years to the same, and no weaver dwelling out of a city is to have more than two apprentices at a time. If to cramp and crush commerce was the intention of these laws, they were admirably framed. How little could the true interests of a nation depending on commerce have been under- stood, and how short-sighted must have been the views of the framers of such laws ; nevertheless, they accorded with the general feelings of the par- ties most interested in the extension of the woollen trade ; their eyes were not open to their true in- terests, and even still the feeling against machinery is strong amongst those who cannot see how their own welfare is intertwined with that of the nation at large. They forget that our manufactures have to run a severe race of competition with those of other countries, and they know not that if the failure is on our side their own immediate interests are periled, if not quite ruined. That the edicts above referred to were of e\ul operation and tended to nurture those prejudices from which they sprung, abundant facts will testify. "These acts (says Mr. M'Culloch) were not, as may perhaps be supposed, allowed speedily to fall into disuse ; on the contrary, their provisions were every now and then put into execution. So late as 1802 there were serious disturbances in Somersetshire and Wiltshire, on account of the manufacturers setting up gig-mills, or machines for raising the nap on cloths, it being contended that they were prohibited by the act of Edward VI. Nor was the public ren- dered fully aware of the real nature and powerful influence of the acts in question, till the publica- tion of the ' Report on the Woollen Manufactures,' by the Commons' committee in 1806. Hence, nothwithstanding all the circumstances favourable to the manufacture in England, and which, had it been let alone, would have ensured its rapid ad- vancement, it was long in a very backward and depressed state. The Dutch and Flemings retained a decided superiority over the English till the end- of the seventeenth century ; it was not indeed till 1668, when some immigrants from Flanders settled in England, that we succeeded in producing any of the finest cloths, or those made entirely from Spanish wool, without the admixture of any wool of an inferior quality." Who could expect other- wise from the prohibition of machinery ? Since the time of Edward III. to the accession of George III., few, if any, improvements had been introduced into the machinery connected mth the woollen manufacture ; it remained in the same simple condition, varying perhaps in some degrees of rudeness, but still unimproved in its principles ; as their forefathers carded, and spun, and wove, 150 THE SHEEP. SO on the same plan did their successors continue ; it was hallowed by antiquity ; it was most probably unaltered, certainly not improved, from the time in which Britain was a Eoman province — nay, it may be presumed that many modes and contri- vances, then in usage, became lost in the troublous times that succeeded the departure of the great civilizers of the world, and were never afterwards recovered. Thus age after age passed by, and while arts and sciences rose up in the land, the woollen manufactures continued in the ancient routine. But the day was at hand in which a new impulse was to be given, and that moreover through another species of manufacture — namely, that of cotton. Well has an anonymous writer thus expressed himself. " Had not the genius of Har- greaves and Arkwright changed entirely the modes of carding and spinning cotton, the woollen manu- facture would probably have remained at this day what it was in the earliest ages of civilized society." Here again we must have recourse to the statistics of Mr. M'Culloch, who has thrown some- thing of attraction around details which few have patience to wade through, albeit they deserve the attention of all interested in the statistical account of the British empire. After noticing the depression, or rather the stagnation of the woollen trade, in consequence of the blind adherence to antiquated processes, he says — " But the astonishing improvements made in the cotton trade roused at length the dormant energies of the woollen manufacturers, and stimu- lated them to make something like corresponding efforts. In consequence machinery began, in the interval between 1785 and 1800, to be eveiywhere employed in the carding and spinning of wool, until the performance of these processes by hand- cards and spinning-wheels was wholly abandoned. The repeal of the acts of Edward VI . and of Philip and Mary in 1807, jjaved the way for the general introduction of gig-mills, shearing-mills, brushing- mills, &c. The power-loom is as yet (18S9) but little introduced uito the cloth tirade, and is em- ployed only in weaving the finer description of goods. This is supposed to be owing to the loose way in which the yam is spun, which while it facilitates the power of felting, makes it unsuitable for the power-loom. — (Report on Yorkshire Factory Commission, c. i., p. 168.) Towards the end of the seventeenth centuiy, Mr. Gregory Iving and Mr. Davenant {Davenant's Works, Whitworth's edition, vol. ii., p. 233) esti- mated the value of the wool shorn in England at £2,000,000 a-year; and they supposed that the value of the wool (including that imported from abroad) was quadnipled in the manufacture, making the entire value of the woollen articles annually produced in England and Wales ±"8,000,000, of which about £2,000,000 were exported. In 1700 and 1701, the official value of the woollens exported amounted to about £3,000,000 a-year. Owing to the vast increase in the wealth and population of the country, the manufactures must have been very greatly extended during the last century, but the increase in the amount of the exports was compara- tively inconsiderable. On an average of the six years ending with 1719, the annual ofiicial value of exports was £3,544,160 a-year, bemg an increase of only about £540,000 on the amount exported in 1700. The extraordinary increase of the cotton manufacture soon after 1700, and the extent to which cotton articles then began to be substituted for those of wool, though it did not occasion any absolute decline of the manufacture, no doubt con- tributed powerfully to check its progress. In 1802 the oflicial value of the exports rose to £7,321,012, being the largest amount they ever reached, till 1833, when they amounted to £7,788,842. During the five years ending with 1836, every j^art of the manufacture was in a state of unexampled improve- ment and extension, notwithstanding the price of wool was, for the greater part of this period, very high ; but in consequence of the revulsion in the trade with the United States, the manu- facture declined considerably in 1837." Here the learned writer adds — " No doubt this decline will be but of temporary duration ;" on this point we will not give any opinion. Who can foresee the preponderance of the scale in the commercial balance of empires ? THE SHEEP. 151 ^T Declared Value of (Mt^C0100dO(M«5^COOC CI -* a CI .r, c^ tr cr CO TT if CR O t- «3 t- 00 IM '*< >0 t- CO CI Oi tr:. CO co^t-co coi-ci to o t3 British Woollen ^ ^ o o O CO C-. 3 Manufactures C)J « -iTo'lM >o" «5 -* .o" -T of t-" OCO»001>00.-icO -H CO cococdoSmSSw Woollens mixed with Cotton. 1 —c tH 00 — 1 1 '-^-*-.^.=l'°.=t= = '=^. 1 -HC»-* CO CO a 1^ Carpets and Car. •£ ^_«5«_COOt-4S_S Ci^ o peting. « «-*" ' co'co'ctTcrt-^ci'-Tio" t-T -* uo" u '-' v_ >> ^ Til CO —1 « CO *~' 2 ""^^Sct i^ a ■tS s . OCOIOOO^UOO-HOCO o '§ CS CO IN CO o-i>cocooooiocicoocoo t-OOOJ^oS-JoSS a. 1 '=5 K Blankets & Blan- 1 t-_t--H_c<5 r-l CT -H t:- CO__U5 CS -H^-O CO -*t- S s ° oT r-T ^--H-CO" >OjC r uj" ^- jC oo' .-r cTt-T co- s-§ > Tt( lO rn ^CJCOOlOrtCI 3 D l-s il II- .-<- ci (M « CO ff^ *--tlO5CJiO00-*C>^COJ:-lO0C CO CO .-COCOCOOTHOCO-iK ^^ O O O r-l i- ^ CS-^t-..— 'OCOCOCOO ^ O C5 OCTTHCOO-;550t2 Flaunel. 1 S^^TO- ^-oo-oi--H-co-^-t--co- ^- Cl" i-^ iS^'lS'^'g-S'g LO S IN >- S§?5S"^ t- CO ^ ii «S 5 ^ 3i O lO OC0-10 C5 O t- >o o O CO t ^ O UO CO CO w ~~ s !^ > -H lO CI CI C: IQ •* CS ^ 00 O 3 c-,5 § Baizes of all sorts. i 1 rl- "s-S^^ri 1 >o- CO- cf r^- o ^ S "*"" cT i '5! 2 io " 2«g=2 _-p..,o-cocncoioCTco-^ >o .-. OOiOOOCOlO— i>i(Hl.oiO CO' jo" icT CI CI O' CO — o CO a. CO .-< lO CO CO «iti Kerseys. i (M rt oo_QOcocico_ eo^_ 1 0_ lO CI co__c6 c» o r^ cl 4- II 11 C( C5 00 CO o>c>ococi-t.o o-# OD t- o 00 00 c:^ o cri lO Napped Coating, Duffels, &c. .1 r'" 2 ■-= :r £ 2 =■' ^~ >="' <^i 1 ^ CI -X ..o CI i- " r- 1 o CO ■5 o S55 lOCOCOt-OOClQOCOl-OlOiO CI « 5,^^T„^^50„5-^ ~i^ «M cS -" -■*~c005-*COt-COCSt-OC1 O CO 00 O O CO lO -* U3 tr- C2 O .^^ Cloths of all sorts. .1 co_ ^ OC0t-l0C0-HC1'H>0.-i00 1 o 'e blood is about one-fifth part of his weight; but its proportion decreases in accordance with his increasing corpulency. In the horse it is estimated to average one-eighteenth part of his whole weight, and in the fairly con- ditioned ox somewhat more than a twentieth part; whereas in the sheep, supposing the animal to be in fair marketable condition, it amounts only to one- twenty-second part of his weight ; and in higher fatted sheep from one-twenty-fifth to oue-twenty- eighth. It must be remembered we are speaking only of the red sanguineous fluid contained in the heart, arteries, and veins — the "purple stream of life." With respect to the quantity of blood to be taken from the sheep, it will of course vary according to the necessity of the case and the judgment of the practitioner, and may extend from half a pint or less to a pint or even a pint and a half; but care should be taken to watch the first falterings of the arterial action. Blood is obtained from sheep in various ways. Some cut the nostrils, the ears, the lips, &c., giving pain and doing no good. Many shepherds bleed from the angular or cheek vein, and that by means of a lancet — the swelling of the vein being eff"ected by dexterous compression with the fingers near the posterior angle of the jaw. But we deem it the best practice THE SHEEP. 175 to bleed at once from the jugular or neck vein, as in the horse and ox ; — it may be done without even cutting any of the wool away, but by parting it faii'iy asunder, and using the lancet neatly, while an assistant secures the animal. Pressure either with the fingers or by means of a ligature (and the former is the better plan) will make the vein rise ; and the bleeding may be stopped by a pin and a little tow, or a few fibres of wool twisted round it. Occasionally the saphena or thigh vein is opened. The mode of bleeding with address and precision, whether it respects man or any of the lower animals, can only be acquired by observation and practice. Every one uses his fingers in a mode peculiarly his own (hence the different styles of handwriting) ; and no directions can teach that which is to be learned by trials only. Thus it is that verbal instructions merely will never teach a person how to fence or swim. Thirdly, with respect to the skull. — It would be well if all sheep farmers rendered themselves well acquainted with the skull of the sheep, and kept by them for reference the skulls of the dif- ferent breeds, and especially of those which they themselves have cultivated. There are certain diseases, afterwards to be explained, to which the sheep is peculiarly liable, rendering a knowledge of this part of the osseous frame-work of great importance. It is not necessary to describe the general form of the skull of the sheep, because all are familiar with it. It difiers in minor details in dif- ferent breeds. Some have the jaws more elongated than others ; some are horned, sometimes many- horned ; others are polled ; in some the forehead is very much elevated, or rather arched ; in some it is nearly flat. The annexed views of the skull in front and in profile will serve to convey a clear idea of the relationship of the bones externally to each other. FROST VIEW OF SHEEP S SKCLL POLLED. A The occipital bone. B The parietal bones consolidated suture having become obliterated. square bone, the c The squamous portion of the temporal bone. D The meatus auditorius, or opening into the internal car. E The two frontal bones, which in man form only one portion as a rule. F Supra-nrbital foramina, or orifices for the passage of nerves and blocid ves^els. G The bony orbits of the eye. H The zygomatic or malar bones. 1 The lachrymal bones, of considerable development. K The nasal bones. L The superior maxillary bones. M Suborbital foramen, for the passage of nerves and blond vessels. N The nasal processes of the intermaxillary bones. o The palatine processes of diltii. p The intermaxillary bones, on the under part of which the firm pad opposed to the cutting teeth of the lower jaw is seated. PEOFILE OF S SKULL HOBNED. A Frontal bones. B Nasal bones. c Superior maxillary bones. D Intennaxillary bones. E Suborbital foramen. F Occipital bone. G Temporal bone, with the auditoiy foramen or meatus audi- torius. H Malar bone, forming with the tempoial bone the zygomatic arch. I The orbit. J The lachrymal bone. K The lower jaw, or mferior maxillary bone, consisting of two br.inches uniied anteriorly, or at the chin, by a suture. L Foramen for the passage of nerves and blood vessels. The mode in which sheep attack an enemy is well known ; they run full butt against the object with all their force, the blow being given by the forehead, which has to sustain the violence of the concussion; hence arose the name and figurehead or iron- arming of that engine of war the battering ram, formerly used in demolishing the walls of be- leagiu-ed cities. It may be supposed from this that the frontal bones of the sheep are very strong, and their bold convexity tends still further to their security. Still it might be thought that the powerful shock occasioned by the blow would affect the brain ; but this is not the case. If we were to judge of the brain of the sheep by the convexity of the frontal bones, viewed externally, we should be deceived in our estimation of its volume. The frontal bone is deceptive in this point of view : it is intended to protect the braiu in the part most exposed to the reception of injuiy, and between the brain and the surface of the frontal bones there is a great distance. The two tables or plates, an external and an internal plate, of 176 THE SHEEP. which the frontal bones consist, are separated to a distance from each other. The inner table imme- diately covering the brain is thick, and between it and the external table is an extensive cavity, ex- tending even far np into the bony cores of the horns (in homed sheep). This vast cavity is termed the frontal si)ius. Now it is reasonable to suppose that the external table, forming as it were the roof of this extensive vault or sinus, would easily be broken in by a heavy blow, — not so ; it is everywhere supported by pillars and walls rising up from the thick inner table or floor, being thus divided into numerous cells or com- partments. These walls and pillars, while they add little to weight, by their reception of the concussion along their perpendicular line, make the external table more strong and capable of enduring a heavier shock than it would be were the two tables consolidated into one plate. We have an analogous structure in the fore- head of the elephant, in the skull of the sloth, in that of the fossil mylodon, &c., the evident design being the protection of the brain, rendered the more necessary by peculiarities of habit and mode of life. The ox possesses extensive frontal sinuses. The frontal sinuses of the sheep communicate with certain cells forming the maxillary sinus (in the superior maxillary bone), and this communi- cates with the extensive nasal cavity, through an aperture under the tui'binated bone ; and the lining membrane of the nasal cavity is carried out as a lining also to the whole of these vaults or chambers, and in this sense may be considered as ajipendages to the nasal cavity. The annexed representation of a longitudinal vertical section of the skull of the sheep will show the character and extent of the frontal sinuses. SECTION OF SKULL. A D The nasal bone. B Upper maxillary bone, c Intermaxillary bone. E B The frontal sinuses, separating the two tables of the skull. G The frontal sinuses, extending up the bony core of tlie horns. H I The cerebrum, or large anterior portion of the brain. K The cerebellum. L The ethmoid bone ; to the left of which is seen the thin cribriform plate, separating tlie nasal cavity from the brain. M The lower portions of the developed etlimoid bone. N The superior turbinated bone, o The inferior turbinated bone, p The sphenoid bone. Having thus far explained the nature of the frontal sinuses, we may observe, that they are liable to invasion by a singular intruder — namely, the larva of a fly of the Dipterous order — the gadfly of the sheep (CEstrus ovis). This fly is common, more especially in wooded districts, from May to July, and is as much the terror of the flock as its near relative the (Estrus bovis is of the herd ; but it acts in a difterent manner. It endeavours to deposit its eggs within the al(B or flaps of the nostrils, where, by reason of the warmth and moisture, they are very speedily %'ivified ; the larvae or maggots, then small, begin to make their way into the nasal cavity, and ultimately trace their winding course into the frontal sinuses. The appearance of the fly occa- sions terror, but the larvtB, in their course through the nasal cavity, almost drive the sheep to distrac- tion. They crawl along by means of two small hooks or crotchets, which grow on each side of the mouth ; and by these they fix themselves when they have arrived at their destined nidus — feeding upon the mucus secreted by the lining membrane of the chambers. In process of time the larva attains to the length of about an inch ; it is some- what flattened, and composed of eleven rings, edged with a few short bristles ; between the rings, on the under surface, are small red spines, the points of which are directed backwards. These spines evidently assist in progression. In the spring the larvae are becoming mature, and now begin to retrace their passage into the nasal cavity. This again throws the sheep into distrac- tion. It stamps, it tosses its head about, it sneezes violently, and so continues till the maggot or maggots are expelled. Seldom, however, more than one or two — sometimes three— tenant the sinuses of a single sheep. After expulsion from the nostrils, these maggots are restless, and crawl about, till they bury themselves in the earth, and assume the pupa condition ; and in six weeks or two months the perfect insect is disengaged from its pupa case, and is soon prepared to commence its incursions upon the flock. The actual degree of mischief occasioned to the sheep by the presence of the larvae of the CEstrus ovis is not very satisfactorily attained. Many writers describe it as amounting to convul- sions, giddiness, and stupor ; but may they not have confounded some true cerebral afi'ection with the mere presence of these maggots? Be this as it may, it has been recommended to open the frontal siimses by means of the trephine (an in- strument for removing a portion of the bone) ; but look at the consequences. It may be (and the chance is even) that the maggot is lodged within the core of one of the horns — nay, it may never have proceeded beyond the turbinated bones of the nasal cavity ; and in these cases a severe operation will have been uselessly performed. That both the ascent and descent of the maggot THE SHEEP. 177 occasions dreadful irritation is certain — everj- action of the sheep evinces it ; nevertheless it is supposed by some, and among then! by Mr. Bracy Clark, tliat tiie drainage of mucus from the membrane of the sinuses, occasioned by them, may really tend to the health of the animal, by diminishing the chances of apoplexy or of cerebral inflammation. As far as our experience goes, we should say that these larvae, when once lodged within the chambers of the sinuses, if they do no good at least do little harm ; we have frequently seen them removed j from the skulls of sheep killed in good condition, i but we will not affirm that they may not occasionally produce great irritation, amounting even to delirium. Usually, however, duiing the protracted lodgment of this larva in its nidus, there is no symptom exhibited by which its presence can be deter- mined. The goat on the continent is subject to the invasions of this maggot equally with the slieep ; and the fart was known to the ancients, although they deemed it bred "madidis cerebri latebris," in the dripping cells of the brain, f See Eeainmir, Mchnoires pour se}-vir a Vhi&toire des Insectes, vol. iv.) HYDATIDS IN THE BRAIN. If the maggot of the JEstrus mis be not, as the ancients imagined, bred in the brain, there is a parasite bred there far more formidable from the effects it produces than the sinus-haunting larva. ^Ye allude to the presence of those strange crea- tures which take up their nidus either upon the surface or within the very substance of the brain, termed hydatids. A sheep labouring under this severe affliction is said, in the language of the farmer, to have the tumsick, the giddy, the poggles, the sturdy, the du)it, &G. ; names bearing some allusion to the symptoms produced. The species of hydatid met with in the brain of the sheep is the Ccenunis cerebralis. This parasite (one of the sterehnentha — sub-class, acrita) consists of a thin globular sac, varying in size, and of a fibrous structure : it is transparent, and filled with a glairy fluid. On the surface of the sac are to be seen clusters of opaque spots, which, when examined by a microscope, are found to be heads, encircled above by recurved spines, and furnished round the sides with four suctorial discs ; through these pores nutriment is conveyed to the sac. These singular creatures have the power of contracting and expand, ing the sac, which is formed of fibrous tissue, in two or three layers. Their motions, when removed from the animals they infest and put into luke-warm water, are very perceptible. One of the fibrous layers is probably muscular. The reproduction of these strange creatures is. it would appear, by minute internal buds or gemmules, which grow on the membranous w:dls of the sac, and uiiih on attixining a certain size become detached, and may be seen, by means of a lens, floating in the gelati- nous iluid with which the sac is filled. According to the observations of Mr. Youatt, who is speaking more particularly of the cerebral hydatid, when the fluid contained in the sac or cyst is clear, the internal membrane, when examined by means of a lens, will be found covered with a countless multitude of little gi-ain-like bodies, disposed in regular lines, and ad- hering by filmy panicles ; these he calls eggs, othei-s call them gemmules. But when the fluid is turbid, it will be found full of apparently fibrous particles, which, when viewed through a microscope, exhibit the appeiu-ance of minute worm-like bodies, many egg^s being also intermingled with them ; and when a still moi-e turbid and opaque state of the fluid prevails, it is owing to the immense quantity of these worms, while all the eggs or gemmules have disappeared. These worms, he says, are about half a line in length, the head is in the form of a tetragon or four-sided figure, with a circle of rays at its summit, and a mouth on each of the four sides ; the neck is short, and the body covered with rings or wrinkles. They swim about with velocity, and appear to be possessed of great activity. They have also the peculiar property of issuing from and of i-eturning at pleasure to the parent cyst, which they ordinarily tenant. If the cyst be removed from the brain, hundreds of them may be forced through the numerous heads of the hydatid by the slightestjiressure, and at other times, when the cyst is examined, numbers of them will be found within or in the act of protruding from the various oral apertures. Are these worms parasites within a parasite, or are they young hydatids ? Perhaps the latter. Another curious fact may be here mentioned, which has frequently come under our own observation. One of these hydatids is very often found to have its cyst filled with multitudes of small but perfect hydatids (query, the above-mentioned worms in a more mature condition ?) These are of various sizes, and some- times amount to scores. Mr. Youatt gives an instance in which an hydatid larger than the egg of a goose, found in the abdominal cavity of a mon- key, contained more than ten thousand minute but perfect cysts, together with a countless num- ber of granules or gemmules, which lined the membranous cyst of the parent hydatid, and which must be regarded as the germs of a future race. It would appear from this, then, that after becoming detached, the granules, gemmules, or eggs, at first assume a worm-like character, with a true hydatids head, and a wrinkled body capable of expansion, and that such as remain in the parent cyst (whatever may become of the others) assume the true form, and perhaps may be regarded as parasites upon their parasitic parent. But granting all this, then come? the qne-t'on, ]>y 178 THE SHEEP. what means come these hydatids hito the Lrain of the sheejo';' aud'thisapj^lies to their presence in any other 2}art of the animal frame. A few thoughts on this subject, which we communicated to a periodi- cal publication, it may be perhaps allowable for us here to repeat : — Let" us conceive of an animal dying from the mischief caused by an hydatid on the brain, which hydatid is laden internally by millions of granules, the presumed germs of so many perfect entozoa. Now it is granted that the parent entozoon perishes, but it does not follow that the granules or ova which it contains also lose their vitality. An animal so low in the scale of being, organically lower than even plants in general, and which is destitute not only of a distinguishable nervous system but of vessels of circulation also, it is by no means going too far to consider the microscojjic ova as still retaining their vitality. But how long will they retain that vitality ? Probably for years. The seeds of plants have been known to retain their vitality for hundreds nay thousands of years, and then to germinate under favourable circumstances ; and so may the granular germs of the entozoa. After the death of their parent, they may mingle with the atmosphere or the earth of the fields, they may be absorbed by plants and contained in their sap-vessels, and remain torpid during a thousand changes of situa- tion. But suppose them to be taken into the system of an animal, an animal weakly or inclined to disease (for in such only we suspect do they become developed), and what is the result ? The ovum, taken into the system with the food, is uninjured by the imperfect digestive process, is carried through the blood-vessels, threading their tortuous mazes, their minutest capillaries, till at length it reaches a situation in which its develop- ment shall commence. Its development commen- cing, it gradually increases, attains its normal characters, reproduces in turn its myriads of granules, and perishes. Thus, then, we think may the presence of hydatids be accounted for. Animal bodies, be it remembered, are not solid ; they are not like iron, they are bundles of tubes, they are porous ; the air permeates them ; and they are ever changing their constituents. It may here be asked. How happens it that hy- datids are not found in all sheep, and in all animals fitted to sustain them ? Perhaps, in perfectly healthy animals, the vigorous circulation of the fluids, the rapid change in the constituent particles of the body, or the condition of the blood, may tend to prevent their development, while those ill-under- stood conditions which primarily constitute an unhealthy or debilitated system, that languid or feverish circttlation, that loss of tone in the nervous and musctxlai' systems, that depraved condition of the organs of ab;-orption and secretion, may favour their development. But what becomes of the myriads of ova which never find such a favourable nidus ; do these perish? and if so, is there not an immense creation of vitality for no end ? We do not know; and if it be so, analogous cases are not wanting. The seeds which the thistle or the dandelion scatters to the winds do not all germinate — numbers perish, but sufficient find a nidus in which to develop and continue the species. It may be, however, that the ovum of the hydatid, when not developed in an animal body, becomes under other circumstances a being so altered or modified in form and appear- ance as not to be recognised; its growth and characters as an hydatid may depend entirely upon the supply of animalized food within its power of absorption. In the water it may be one of the strange animalcules of which we only know that "little is known." We do not say this is the case — we merely suggest a possibility ; indeed the more we become acquainted with the lowest forms of the animal creation, perhaps we ought to say its sim- plest forms, the more do we become convinced that the laws applicable to the higher cla'fes do not apply to them. Who could e.xpect to find the gemmules of a sponge active locomotive beings swimming freely about, or to see the young of the barnacle (lepas) careering through the water ; and who in these animated germs would, without experience, be able to predicate respecting the forms they were destined to assume ! In what form, or in what condition, or in what habitation, the Creator originally constructed and placed the hydatid, we pretend not to say ; but if it be that the hydatid is an hydatid only when nourished within animal bodies, we may concltide that its original form is that of some animalcule yet to be discovered, perhaps in the juice of plants, pei'haps in the water, perhaps in both. And it may be that it is from these animalcules, and not from the granules or ova of animal-nourished hydatids, tliat the sheep or other animal derives the gradually expanding and life-destroying pest, slowly preying upon its vitals. But however it be, whether ample provision is made for the safety of a sufficient number of the ova of the hydatid to continue the species, or whether these perish with the parent, and it is from the original animalcules that the race of hydatids is continued, of this we may be sure, that the hydatid is not, as some suppose, a spontaneous production, the offspring of self-creation, terms involving contradiction — nay, impiety. From this digression respecting the hydatids themselves, a digression not unwarranted, we may proceed to a detail of the symptoms produced by their presence in the brain of the sheep, to which we wish we could add a certain mode of relief, but, alas! the chance of permanent cure is slight and 2irecarious. THE SHEEP. 179 It is seldom in tbe second _year, and rare after that age, that sheep are atfected with tiiis disease, tlie stardij or tunisick, from the presence of these parasites. It appears priacipally iu the first year, aud oftenest during the first six months of the animal's existence, and is most prevalent in damp low situations, boggy districts, and in a cold wet spring, when the earth is drenched with chilling rains. It is then that some of the weaklier lambs begin to exhibit strange symptoms, and others take their turn, first exhibiting the signs of debility. At first the lamb seems dejected and dull, it foregoes its frolics, it cares not to associate with its companions, it mjpas alone ; soon its step becomes vacillating and uusteady, and it often staggers ; sometimes it stands in a state of uuconscioasness gazing with a stupid stare, then, as if some fearful object had started up, it flies off in terror, and at its utmost speed, stops again, and stares vaoantl}' as before. Often it pores over the glassy water of a ditch or streamlet, till at last it reels giddil}' and sometimes falls iu. All this time it eats little, it becomes meagre, its countenance is haggard, its eye vacant and of a singular blue colour, a marked character of this affection. These symptoms kacrease, the glassy water is more attractive, the fits of vacant abstraction and suddeu terror become more frequent, and there is a twist to one side in the animal's neck. Soon the sheej) commences a rotatory motion in one dii-ection, according to the twist of the neck ; and, if it feed at all, goes round aud round as it gathers the herbage. It is now that blindness begins to come on, surrounding objects areuuseen, the rotatory motion increases, for an hour or more at a time the animal wheels I'ound and round, it falls, it rises up, stands in vacant stupor, com- mences its rotations, and at length dies an emaciated frame ; or falls into some brook, or down some steep place, and so perishes. What are the appearances which on opening the skull will present themselves ? Variable as to number aud situation, in or upon the brain will be found these hydatids : sometimes they oppress the surface of the cerebrum under the pia mater ; sometimes they occupy the middle scissure of tlie brain ; sometimes they tenant the ventricles ; sometimes the cerebellum. Some writers pretend to distinguish, by the peculiarity in the eccentric movements of the sheep, that portion of the brain in which the hydatid or hydatids may he lodged ; and to a certain extent this may be possible, but the knowledge brings with it little practical advantage. Sometimes before death the brain of the sheep is almost wholly wasted away by the slowly-growing parasite, leading us to wonder how it is possible that life under such circumstances could have been at all protracted. We know that portions of the brain may be destroj-ed or cut away in all animals without the necessaiy destruc- tion of life, but the following case is almost astounding. At a meeting of the Loudon Medical Society Mr. Stevens related the facts. A sheep afflicted with stuniij or tunisick was brought to him. He took out a portion of the skull with a trephine, aud on cutting through the dura mater a very large hydatid partially protruded. He attempted to extract it whole, but it broke. He afterwards extracted the cyst, and on looking into the opening made with the trephine he found the interior to present a large empty cavity. The brain appeared to be completely gone. He let down a wax light through the opening into the cavity of the skull, when it appeared that nearly the whole of the brain was wanting. The hole was closed, and the sheep got up and fed, but on the morning of the fourth day it became convulsed and died. Upon opening the head a little only of the brain at its base was found, and some remains at the sides, forming an imperfect shell of brain. Several hydatids were still remaining upon it. — Lancet, 1830-1, vol. 1, p. 7(3:3. This case might lead u5 into some physifsibgical disquisition which we refrain from, as it would be out of place; but there is a point yet to be noticed. When the hydatid is located upon the surface of the brain, its gradual pressure upwards or outwardly, slight as it may be, produces an absorption of the bony surface of the skull itself, according to the spot beneath which it is lodged. In this spot, generally a little anterior to the root of the horn, the skull feels soft and yielding, aud it is here that an operation may be performed with some chance of saving the sheep. The object of the operation is to remove or destroy the hydatid cyst. If the skull over the cyst be completely absorbed, a cross-wise incision may be made over the part, the flaps of skin turned back, aud the hydatid exposed and removed altogether if possible. Should the bone be not absorbed, or freer access to the cyst required, the trephine may be used. It is important that the hydatid should be extracted whole, and tliis is by no means easy, sometimes impracticable ; still the fluid must be removed, and afterwards the membrane of the cyst piecemeal, supposing that it has broken. The French adopt a ditferent plan, they merely puncture the cyst, at the spot where the skull is soft, with an awl, and place the sheep on its back, in order that as much of the fluid as possible may be discharged. This operation should be repeated every three or four days, with intervals of two days between each puncture. This operation is very simple, and more successful than any other. Another operation in the case of hydatids in tbe brain has been recommended by Mr. Hogg. It 180 THE SHKEP. consists in iiuf,iijiig a wnc or bhai-p ami slender trochar, (taking middle course) tliroiigli the thin cribriform plate of the ethmoid hone into the brain, and so piercing the hydatid, the fluid of which escapes through the nostrils, or, if a trochar be used, through the canula. This operation Mr. Hogg states that he has perfonned many times with success. It is liable however to several objections. It is not easy to hit the cribriform plate of the ethmoid bone (see fig. at p. 17(3, i,.), and so enter the skull; and, granting that this be accomplished, except the hydatid be placed on the superior part of the brain it will not be punclured. There is in fact great uncertainty and danger in the operation: imcertainty, because the wii'e or trochar passes in one direction only, and conse- quently the greatest portion of the brain is out of its way, hence a hydatid deep in its surface, or in the cerebellum, cannot be attained ; danger, because, although after the membranes and bones of the nose have been pierced, the sheep scarcely, if at all, feels the entrance of the wire into that portion of the brain through which it passes, still inflam- mation is greatly to be apprehended, and Mr. Hogg4confesses that the sheep which die in consequence of wiring are in the greatest agonies, and utter piteous groans ; sometimes a sheep when the wire pierces the brain will drop as if felled by the stroke of a pole-axe, and expire hi a couple of minutes. From these circumstances, and the great probability that more than one hydatid exists, which the wire or trochar will not puncture, setting aside the difficulty of hitting the cribriform plate, we do not recommend the adoption of this mode of operating on the sheep. The French method is the simplest and the most effectual ; but, granting the destruction of the hydatid by this or any other method, so liable is the disease to return, that as a general rule it is the best plan to fatten the animal as quickly as possible for the butcher. There are, we know, cases upon record of sheep having survived the operation of the trephine for years, and of their having bred yearly ; but these are rare; indeed, he who permanently saves four sheep out of a dozen by the use of the trephine cannot be called unfortunate. By puncture on the French plan his chances are greater ; the brain is more slowly relieved from its habitual pressure, no sudden vacuum is formed, no external air is admitted, and the blood-vessels gradually accommodate them- selves to the change. One thing it is here needful to mention ; the operation should not be delayed too long. When the bone of the skull has softened we may infer the awful extent of mischief which the brain has undergone, and in proportion to this is the chance of success diminished. The prevention of every disease is better than the cure ; in this disease it is so most decidedlv. But the question is, how is it to be prevented ? By proper diet and air. Let the pasturage be well drained — let low humid cold spots be avoided — let the j'oung lambs have proper shelter, and let care be taken of the ewes in the early part of the spring. It is advisable to let them have salt to lick, as is recommended by M. Giron de Buzaseinques. A weakly or feeble ewe will produce a weakly offspring. This disease is to be attri- buted to debility ; for it is only in sickly feeble lambs that the hydatid will flourish. Of various empirical modes of treatment in this disease — some of them brutal, as the appli- cation of branding irons to the skull, cutting off the ears of the animal, worrying the sheep by a dog, or chasing it till it is driven over some decli- vity, as the sides of a stone pit — we need not speak ; they are disgraceful practices, and the ignorant alone will put faith in them. HVDROCEPHALUS, OR WATER IN THE HEAD. This disease, termed by some dropsy of the brain, goggles, &c., must he distinguished from the previous affection resulting from the presence of hydatids. It consists in an accumulation of serous fluid upon the surfiice of the brain, be- tween the ^«'rt mater and the arachnoid coat ; or within the brain itself, occupying the ventricles, and descending from the fifth ventricle even into the sheath of the medulla ohlonr/ata. The symptoms in this disease are more severe than in sturdy from hydatids, and its course is more rapid. It is, besides, mostly attended by some degree of paralysis, either in the fore or hind quarters ; but the head is usually turned to one side. As in the human subject, hydrocephalus is sometimes con- genital. The Iamb is bom with it, the head is enlarged, the bones soft, the sutures opened, and, in these cases, parturition is difficult; but the destruction of the lamb, essential perhaps to the safety of the mother, is of little moment. In other cases, the disease comes on gradually. The lamb appears dull ; it staggers a little as it walks ; the bowels are constipated, sometimes vio- lently relaxed ; the appetite is variable, occasionally voracious, at other times lost ; the animal now pines, and becomes thin ; the skull enlarges ; the stupidity increases, and the vital powers gradually sink. Hydrocephalus may be regarded as incurable. It is not unfrequently accompanied by one or more hydatids, and in such a case all hope is out of the question. In pure hydrocephalus, bleeding, mer- curial medicines, as the blue pill, in doses of about five grains, and purgatives, as Epsom salts or Glauber salts, in doses of two ounces, with a small quantity of ginger, have been recommended. We place little confidence in any plan of treatment. The causes of this disease must be referred to THE SHKEP. 1»1 constitutional weakness ; sometimes arising from bad management of the flock, sometimes from a peculiar predisposition inherited from one or both of the parents solely. In the latter case, the sooner the farmer can change his stock or intro- duce new blood into it the better ; in the former case, he must alter his system of management, and attend to the health of his breeding ewes. Generally, however, we think that hydrocephalus results from an inherited predisposition ; and that slight e.xciting causes will induce its commence- ment where the tendency to it exists. It is a disease of civilization {if we may use the term), and appears to be unknown among wild animals. It would be interesting to learn how far it prevails among savage tribes of men. Common as it is in refined Eui'ope, we suspect that few cases occur in the South Sea Islands. APOPLEXY, OR BLOOD-STBIKING. This disease, which consists in a sudden and violent rush of blood to the vessels of the brain, producing extreme pressure and almost instant death, is very common among sheep. Sheep which are highly fed, and particularly such as are pre- pared for exhibition, are especially subject to it. Such animals should be narrowly watched, for the disease gives little warning, and all is soon over. Suddenly a sheep stands motionless, it staggers, it sees nothing, the eyes are fixed, the pupils dilated, the conjunctiva and the membranes of the nose are purple with blood or fiery red, the nostrils are dilated, the flanks heave, the breath- ing is stertorous, the animal reels, falls, and dies. Sheep fed up to a high degree of plethora, and then driven or excited, are in imminent danger. The heart beats quickly and strongly, the blood rushes in double tides through the arteries, the brain receives a volume which it is unable to bear, the animal is distressed, it lags behind the flock, half stupid and half blind, and suddenly it falls. Probably all hope of saving it is now lost, and what must be done should have been done pre- viously, when the symptoms first manifested them- selves. About a pound of blood must be taken from the jugular or neck vein — not the slow- bleeding eye vein — and afterwards a smart ])urga- tive must be administered, consisting of Epsom salts in a four ounce dose, to be repeated in ounce doses every four or six hours, until the medicine operates. Should these means happily succeed, the sheep must be placed upon scanty fare, and its plethoric condition reduced. After this let it be gradually prepared for the butcher, for one attack is too often the forerunner of others. Some- times apoplectic symptoms, instead of suddenly producing death, terminate in inflammation of the brain, which is fatal in the course of a short time. Sheep fed on the rich pastures of Leicester- shire, Komney Marsh, and otlier places where the soil is rich and the spring herbage luxuriant, are very liable to apoplexy, especially if the weather prove hot. A clover pasture is dangerous. IKFLAMMATIO.N" OF THE EKAIN, oli PHKENITIS. Inflammation of the substance of the brain, or of its membranes, is produced by the same causes which occasion apoplexy. In this disease the vessels of the brain, or of its membranes, are gorged with blood, but not to such a degree of turgesceuce as to occasion sudden death, eitlier from this cause or from the rupture of some vessel and eff'usion of l>loud. In the first stage the sheep is dull, heavy, disinclined to move or to eat, and the eyes are bloodshot and staring : but the second stage soon comes on. The aspect of the countenance becomes wild, the animal gallops frantically about, rushes to the attack of its companions or of any person or object that happens to attract its notice, and e\idently labours under furious delirium. Some- times it dashes itself on the ground, and ultimately, in the midst of its violent efforts, staggers, falls, and dies, perhaps from the rupture of some blood- vessel on the brain. Occasionally a whole flock, too suddenly removed from a very spare summer pasturage to a field of rich turnips, has been known to become affected altogether with phreuitis, to the great loss of the farmer. This disease occurs more frequently among lambs than sheep, and they leap and dash them- selves about in the wildest frenzy. I\Ir. J. Laurence, in his work on cattle, saj's, " Ou the borders of Suffolk, several scores of lambs were seized with an uncommon malady, leaping and jinnping about the fold in a strange manner. A dunghill hajiiienJui; tn have been raised almost to a level with ilic r;i\(^uf a low-tiled barn, anumber of the lamlis r:iti skipping to the top of the roof as if they were possessed by a thousand demons. The whole parish wisely concluded they were be- witched, and a wretched and aged pauper became the object of their suspicion and deadly hatred. The senseless and horrilde supposed prevention was resorted to — namely, burning one of the poor animals alive." This is, indeed, an instance of cruelty resulting from gross ignorance. Where, alas ! was reason '> Dormant in the minds of such jiersons is that faculty on which man is so apt to pride himself. " 'T is education fonns tliu Just as the twig is bem, tlie tree's ijicliiied." With regard to the treatment in phrenitis, it may be summed up in a few words. Copious bleeding from the neck vein (jugular), followed by doses of Epsom salts, are the means em- 182 THE SHEEP. jiloyeci, and the more jiromptly the better. Should these measures succeed, a sparing diet will be necessary, in order to prevent a recurrence of the disease. KABIES, OR MADNESS. The Strange ferocity which sheep exhibit in phrenitis often leads the farmer to suspect that the poor animal is labouring under rabies from the bite of a rabid clog, and indeed rabid sheep often exhibit great ferocity ; but there are symptoms ■which distinguish between the two diseases. Rabies but too frequently occurs in flocks ; a village cur or a sheep-dog becomes rabid, and in this condition prowls about bent on mischief; it enters the fold, it bites most of the sheep more or less seriously, more or less frequently ; retreats — perhaps returns to the farm or village ; is recog- nised as being viad, and soon destroyed. The farmer visits his fold, he finds all in great dis- order, the sheep panting, terrified, and exhausted: he soon sees that they have been bitten and lacerated, and his suspicions. are excited, perhaps confirmed, by the report of the destnictiou of a mad dog half a mile from the spot. What is to be done? The sheep must be carefully examined one by one. If the sheep have not been clipped the wounds will be about the face, lips, ears, and legs, for the deep wool will defend the body ; but if the sheep are denuded of this covering, various parts of the body, as the sides, shoulders, thighs, (tc, may be lacerated. Each wound should be thoroughly burnt by lunar caustic (nitrate of silver), of which a pencil should be formed capable of being inserted into every part; to effect the purpose decidedly, the wound, if necessary, should be enlarged by the knife, for unless the caustic have free access to the very depths of the wound, and cauterizes it thoroughly, there is no chance of saving the animal. Supposing this to be done, still the farmer will have to wait the result with anxiety — it is not always easy to determine that the wounds have been cauterized to their very depth ; some slight puncture, moreover, may have escaped notice, and the system may have absorbed the poison before the application of the caustic. All then remains in uncertainty. If the disease lurks in the system, its symptoms may be expected to manifest themselves in the course of a fortnight, and from that time to the end of eight, ten, or even twelve weeks. At first the sheep display a tendency to annoy and chase each other ; they cease to feed as usual, and begin to lose flesh. In the course of a day or two a strange stupor super- venes, especially in the case of the ewes, which soon become paralyzed and die, often without a struggle. It has been observed that the lambs fall into a succession of convulsive fits, which in the course of two or three days end in death. The rams and wethers are generally affected in a some- what different manner (as are sometimes also the ewes). They push their heads against the ground, against the bank-side or palings ; and often, though they show no disposition to bite, use their horns or heads in striking each other with great violence, or nni full butt against any object, re- peating their blows till the skin is stripped from their foreheads. There is a profuse discharge of mucus from the nostrils, and of a frothy saliva from the mouth, but they exhibit no dread of water, nor do they seem to be tormented by insatiable thirst. They drink from the dirtiest puddles by pre- ference ; they eat mud and earth, nibble sticks or bits of wood, and swallow the portions ; in their paroxysms of delirium they utter a peculiar kind of bleat in a high key, and with a strangely plain- tive or wild wailing expression, and soon become paralyzed or torpid, occasionally convulsed, and die. Death generally takes place on the second or third day after the manifestation of the disease, but some survive even to the fifth. The appearances which present themselves upon dissection are variable. Sometimes the membranes of the brain show the ti-aces of active inflammation; occasionally the upper portion of the windpipe, as in the dog, has the vessels of its lining membrane injected with blood. The paunch is usually filled to a greater or less extent with bits of stick, mud, filth of various kinds ; a pecu- liarly fcEtid smell is exhaled, and the inner lining is covered by abrupt patches of inflammation, often exhibiting in addition small spots of extra- vasated blood. With respect to any treatment where rabies makes its appearance, we have nothing to say. Cure is hopeless. It may be asked, and the ques- tion is reasonable, Is there any danger to man or other animals from their coming in contact with rabid sheep? We should say. Yes. There is not, we believe, any well-authenticated instance of the sheep having communicated this disease, and it shows no disposition to bite ; but we know that rabies may be communicated by the virus of the ox, the horse, the ass, the human being, and even, it is said, of the fowl ; and therefore we may con- clude that the virus of the sheep, received upon the surface of any scratch, or cut, or sore place, would communicate the dreadful malady. Perhaps the virus may not be so certain and so potent as is that of the dog, the wolf, or the cat (carnivorous animals), but still we cannot but believe that there is danger in handling rabid sheep, and that every precaution ought to be taken. The hands and face should be fairly protected against the possi- bility of their being smeared with the virus, and the enclosure, pen, or fold, in which sheep have died rabid, should be well cleared out, and the wattles, posts, or stakes against \\hich they have THE SHEET. 183 run a-tilt, be burnt. Perhaps this is not abso- hitely necessary, but who would not be cautious in such a case? A thorn or a splinter smeared with virus might prick a man's finger — who can foretel the consequence? No one, we presume, would sell the carcase of a sheep killed when the symptoms of rabies had begun to show themselves. It is asserted, and we believe truly, that the meat might be eaten with perfect impunity ; but no creditable farmer would thus act, even for conscience sake, to say nothing of the odium which would deservedly attach to him when the fact was discovered. But another ques- tion presents itself; suppose a farmer finds that a rabid dog has bitten several of his sheep, perhaps the day previously or the day before that, is he then justified in killing those animals for the mar- ket or selling them to the butcher? A great authority, ]\Ir. Youatt, says that under such cir- cumstances sheep may be " fairly and honestly" disposed of to the butcher. All we can say is that were we to know that the mutton on our table was that of a sheep which had been killed in order to anticipate its death from the results of the bite of a rabid dog, we should not be able to taste a single mouthful, nor do we think that othei's would much relish it. We say not that anything is to be apprehended, but we cannot divest our minds of unpleasant feelings ; and the very name of rabies carries teiTor in its sound. In this case should not the farmer's axiom be — "Let me do as I would be done by." Would he partake of such flesh or put it before his family? We much doubt it. LOCKED -JAW, OR TET.\NUS. This disease occasionally attacks sheep, and is usually produce-l by cold sleety rains, and severe weather, especially at lambing time. From the same causes, the young lambs themselves are still more subject to it, but in the young males another cause is apt to produce it, viz. the operation which they are doomed to undergo, and which is gene- rally roughly performed, so as to give more than necessary pain, producing spasmodic contraction of the muscles generally, but particularly those of the jaws, which become strongly clenched. Ill ordinary cases the symptoms are as follows : At first there is a peculiar spasmodic twitching of the head or of some of the limbs, a grinding of the teeth, and a rigidity of the jaws. In a few hours these symptoms increase, the frame generally becomes stiff, the neck is pi'otruded, the head bent back, and as it were fixed ; one of the limbs, moreover, is rigidly contracted, and the muscular frame in general is spasmodically stiffened. Occa- sionally convulsive paroxysms intervene between fits of rigid spasm, and in ten or twelve hours the animal dies. Occasionallv. however, the affection, though continuing longer, even to thirty-six hours, gradually subsides, the vigour of the constitution ultimately triumphing. The treatment must consist in shelter or warmth, bleeding, purgatives, and opiates. Blood must be abstracted according to the age and strength of the animal ; it should be placed in a genial temperature, and then undergo the action of aperients combined with opium. Castor oil, in doses of two ounces, with laudanum (tinct. opii) I drachm or H drachm, in grixel, maybe given to an adult sheep, and the castor oil or olive oil re- peated, in smaller doses, every two or three hours until the desired effect is produced. After this, a cordial drink, consisting of gruel, ginger, and good ale, or a little gin, will often complete a cure. The fact is, that tetanus in the sheep is not so unmanageable or fatal as in the horse, or even in the ox ; and in lambs undergoing the operation alluded to, the very circum5tance of forcing open the jaws with the thumb, or of preventing their contraction by its introduction at ths time, will prevent the muscular system generally from sym- pathizing with the muscles of tlie jaws — the latter being, as it were, the incitements to a similar spasmodic action throughout the frame. Tetanus is a disease which ought very seldom to appear in sheep ; it is the farmer's fault if it attacks his flock. The yeaning ewes and young lambs should have due and sufficient shelter, and it is to be observed that it occurs chiefly among sheep and lambs exposed to the depi-essing cold of bleak unsheltei'ed commons or heaths, during the early months of spring or the middle of winter. The stiffness which cold produces in the human being expiring on the snow, when he lies " stretched out and bleaching in the northern blast," may be regarded as arising from a spasmodic contraction of the muscles ; and in like manner cold operates on other animals, producing numbness, torpor, stiffness, and death. Mr. Youatt assures us, that in travelling over some of the more open parts of the countiy on a winter's morning, he has seen in the space of twenty or thirty miles more than as many lambs stiffened by the cold. In these cases, gradual restoration to a genial temperature, per- haps the loss of a little blood, and a cordial, will restore the half-suspended animation. But what loss and trouble would not due sheltering-places, as huts and the like, prevent ! True spasmodic tetanus may arise from causes which we cannot appreciate. Out of a flock of sheep grazing on the same pasture, one or more may be seized with this affection; so it is in the human being — tetanus often appears irrespective of any assignable cause. We know that under certain states of the nervous system a slight puncture or wound may produce it, but, as we have had occasion mor,^ than once to see, it occurs (to 184 Tilt SHKhP. use an expiesbion iiiditative of our iguoraiice) spontaneously. Such cases however are not com- mon, indeed they may be called rare ; and among sheep, with a nervous system far,/«r less irritable than that of the human being — (a being exposed to mental irritation and anxiety, to noxious malaiia, to j the depressing influence oi the atmosphere of fac- i tories, of cotton-mills, of lead works, and the like) — among sheep, we say, such a disease ought never | to be known ; at least, it ought to be of extreme \ rarity. We have never seen a case of tetanus either in the dog, the cat, or any of the canine or | feline animals in the menagerie; indeed we may apply our observation to the carnivora generally, j nor has the scope of our observation been limited. Mr. Youatt indeed, in his History of the Dog, speaks of tetanus as a disease to which this animal is occasionally liable, but so seldom that in the course of forty years' practice but four cases had come under his experience. Of these, one arose from a woimd in the foot ; the cause in the second case was not discoverable ; in the thiid case no cause is assigned ; but in the fourth, that of a bull- terrier injured in fighting, it might reasonably be attributed to wounds and terrible exertion. In the latter case calomel and opium were of the greatest service. On this subject however we must refer to the work in question. Mr. Blaine, it would seem, never met with tetanus, except in three instances, among many thousands of dogs diseased. Two of these cases were idiopathic (or spontaneous), the third was symiMthetic, or traumatic, arising from extreme injuiy done to one of the feet : none were saved. The French writers recount cases of tetanus in dogs, but their rarity on the continent appears to be the same as in our island. On the contrary, chorea, or St. Vitus' dance, an involuntary twitching or spasmodic action of some muscles, or sets of muscles, is by no means uncommon in the canine race, often degenerating into paralysis. But into this subject we have no right to enter; it is alien to our present subject. EPILEPSY. A disturbance of the action of the nen"es (we must not here agitate the point with respect to this action, be it galvanic, or what it may) will often produce epileptic fits — the morbus sacer of the ancients. Young dogs in bathing are subject to epilepsy, so are the young of our race : and we have seen it produced in an adult by the horrid stench of the secretion which exudes from the subcaudal glands of the Grison {Gallictis littata). —See Proc. Zool. Soc. 1883, p. 140, et seq. In animals generally epilepsy results from high feed- ing and want of sufficient muscular exercise. We have seen domestic poultry fall down in epilejisy. and also caged birds, as canaries, &c., and it often ends in true apoplexy, thus terminating existence. Sheep are not unfrequtntly the subjects of epilepsy. It generally occurs within a few hours after daybreak, when the morning is fine but cold, principally in the spring and early part of the summer, and again in the autumn. The sheep rising from its bed (perhaps the grass of the field being covered with hoar frost) begins to stare, and stagger, and then fall, and struggle convulsively for several miimtes. By degrees the fit subsides, and the animal recovers its feet, but still remains for some time in a state of semi-consciousness which gradually abates, and the faculties regain their usual equilibrium. These fits may recur eveiy day, and if so a fatal termination may be predicted. In some parts of the countiy the mode adopted in order to check the accession of the fit is to set a dog upon the semi-conscious animal, the wony of which, as has been remai'ked, frightens the creature not out of its senses, but into tbem. The terror excited interrupts the progress of one kind of nervous derangement by setting up another ; but it is a cruel plan. We recommend change of pasture, shelter, and a few doses of purgative medicine. When however habit has confirmed the disease, little hope of cure is to be entertained ; the sheep wastes in flesh, however plump it might have been previously, and ultimately sinks, or dies apoplectic. Prevention is better than cure ; sudden change of pasture should be avoided, aud sufficient shelter allowed. We do not know that setons have ever been tried in the sheep as a counter-irritant in epilepsy, but we think they might be beneficial, assisted by moderate bleeding. Yet at the same time we would say that the farmer ought to look to the influencing causes of this disease, which disease when pi-evalent in his flock will not tend to his credit as a " keeper of sheep." r.\LSY, OR PARALYSIS. Palsy or paralysis consists in a more or less complete suspension of the nervous influence on the muscles of voluntary motion. It may arise from many causes which exert a morbid influence on the nerves of motion, and it may vary in e.xtent, from loss of power in a single muscle, to those of the limbs, or of the whole body. Pressure on the brain in consequence of a fracture of the skull, or of effusion of blood during apople.xy, disorganization of the brain from any cause, and pressure on the spinal chord, may produce a more or less complete paralysis. Disease of the motor nerves of a single muscle or of a limb will induce it. The THE SHEET, iS5 absorption of lead into the system, even through the skin (as in the instance of painters, and of that class of workmen who, in the potteries, are employed in dipping the earthenware in a liquid glaze containing lead), is followed by a peculiar species of paralysis, more or less complete. Paralysis in the sheep, however, seldom arises from these agents ; it is generally the result of exposure to severe cold, and is often connected with rheumatism, and sometimes with other diseases. Ewes enfeebled by yeaning at an early period of the year, and left to take iheir chance in some unsheltered spot, should a severe frost come on, are often seized with palsy and deprived of all power of motion. The same thing occurs in the case of }'oung lambs under like exposure. If the palsy of the limbs be complete tlie animal rarely recovers, although it may perhaps drag on existence for a longer or shorter time. In other cases the muscles slowly regain a degree of power ; but 'if they do, rheumatism too fre- quently supervenes, and the animal wastes away, and ultimately sinks. In palsy, if extensive and complete, there is, as we have said, little hope of cure ; but in milder cases relief at least may be afforded. The helpless animal should be removed to a comfortable shelter, and bedded upon straw, a small quantity of wann gruel with some ginger, or a little ale, may be administered, but more exciting stimulants will do mischief Gradual restoration of tem- perature, and a gradual return of the nerves to their wonted functions, are the points to be aimed at. The lambs should be housed, their limbs rubbed at some distance from a fire, and warm gruel given to them. Should they recover the use of their limbs, they should be restored immediately to their respective parents, under shelter. It is however seldom that the lamb regains its due state of health and condition, and is therefore the more liable to the attacks of other diseases ; indeed severe diarrhcea too often ensues, which is not to be arrested without difficulty. A cordial astringent commonly known as 'Calves' and Sheep's Cordial' will lie found useful. It may be prepared as follows : — Take of Prepared chalk, 1 oz. Powdered catechu, 5 oz. }'o .vdere.l ginger, 2 drachms. Po>vdeieil opium, j drachm. Peppermint water, 5 pint. Mix well. Dose from one to two table-spoonfuls twice a-day. The mixture to be shaken each time it is to be administered. A little gum arable or mucilage will tend to keep the chalk in some degree of suspension, but it is not absolutely necessary. As is the case with horned cattle, sheep are liable to attacks of fever, and from the same causes. The first symptoms which atti'act notice are dulness, an indisposition to take food, a desire to rest alone apart from the flock in some sheltered or cool place, a weary gait, a distressed expression, panting of the flanks, a hurried breathing on being driven, redness of the eye, and dryness of the mouth. These symptoms are preceded by shivering, and if the disease be not speedily checked, it runs on into inflammatory fever ; or the lungs or some vital organ will take on active inflammation, and all attempts to save the animal will be in vain. Many sheep, but more lambs, are yearly lost in consequence of neglecting this disease until it has assumed a violent character. " Venienti occurrite viorbo" — oppose disease on the outset — should be the farmer's motto ; when it once " gets ahead," who can say how it will terminate. The first thing to be done is to remove the animal from the field to some quiet place, and then abstract a moderate quantity of blood, according to age, size, and strength ; a dose of Epsom salts, two ounces for a grown-up sheep, dissolved in water or thin gruel, may be then administered, and repeated in a smaller quantity after the lapse of a few hours till it takes the proper effect. All stimulating or cordial drinks are poison here. Should the animal improve, its diet must be cautiously attended to ; it must not be put upon rich and nutritious food, as clover, turnips, and the like, but allowed the range of a scanty pasturage till its health is re-established. Even then its return to fattening diet should be gradual. infi,a:\imatory fever. This fever is similar to the qnarter-ill of young cattle (see ' Ox,' p. 120), and is called by some blood-striking, a term also given to apoplexy, and indeed it is in apoplexy that this fever terminates so frequently. It is generally while feeding in rich pastures, such as Romney Marsh, when the herbage is luxuriant and full of spring sap, that sheep are attacked by this disease, and the more liable to it are they if during the winter they are fed on scanty fare. The system will not bear the sudden change from starvation to luxury, and the slightest excitmg cause, like a spark falling upon gunpowder, causes the explosion. This disease commences with violent shivering of short duration, succeeded by a hot paroxysm of proportionate severity; the animal is languid and refuses food, it pants if driven, and lies down as soon as possible ;. sometimes it becomes restless. 186 THE SHEEP. its eyes are wild and bloodshot, delirium super- venes, followed by stupor, it lies down, resting the nose on the ground, the ears hang down, the eyes are closed and never agaiii opened, the animal dies without a struggle. The disease runs a rapid course ; a sheep may appear well in the evening and be found dead in the morning ; but generally its period averages from sixteen to twenty-four hours. The urine is small in quantity and bloody, and there is violent stranguary. Sometimes instead of sinking into a gradual torpor the animal drops suddenly dead. We have said that this disease is of common occurrence in Romney Marsh. The following account of its ravages, by Mr. Price, is apalling : " The number of animals that die of this disorder in Romney Marsh is truly astonishing ; I should suppose nearly four in a hundred yearly in some soils and situations, and at peculiar seasons, although every precaution in stocking is taken to prevent it ; which, if the graziers did not, they would lose half their flock annually. My opinion is, that the soil of Romney Marsh being very rich, consequently the clover and grasses equally so, that the sheep feeding on these rich pastui-es must be more subject to inflammation than those fed on poorer soils, particularly in the spring, when the young shoots of the grasses and natural clover are full of juices ; besides, when in this state they are greedily eaten by the animals, which often proves fatal, particularly after a warm day or two. On opening them, the contents of the abdomen are more or less inflamed, and some parts are very dark coloured, and emit a very offensive smell. Sometimes the heart or lungs appear to be primarily affected, and sometimes the liver, bowels, and stomach, which is vei-y easily perceived by the dark and livid appearance of the pai't. It is said that bad mouthed sheep never die of this disease, because they cannot feed on short nutritious grass, but on coarse long hei-bage, which does not enrich the blood. I am of opinion that it is an inflammatoiy disease, and that the only remedy is large bleedings, so as to rapidly lov/er the system." As this fever depends upon repletion of the blood-vessels, brought on by too sudden a change from low to rich fare, the main chance of saving life will be by the prompt abstraction of blood in an early stage, before any congestion of the brain or of any of the visceraoi" the chest or abdomen has taken place ; afterwards active purgatives must be given and the pasturage changed. There must be no delay — a quarter of an hour may make all the difference. This disease, or one very similar to it, is com- mon in some parts of France, generally i-avaging the flocks in the latter part of spring and through the summer months till Aurrust. It is called La Maladie de Sologne, from the name of the district in which it prevails. La Sologne is a low marshy district in Orleanais, abounding in small lakes and pools of water, and yielding in spring and early summer a luxuriant vegetation and a profusion of aquatic plants. If the month of April be rainy, the disease is sure to break out shortly afterwards, and thin the flocks. During the autumn and winter the sheep are half starved ; the fields are bare, and rushes and the dead leaves of trees constitute their wretched fod- der. After the spring rains the vegetation starts up and assumes a luxuriant aspect; the fresh grass is rank and succulent, and the half-starved sheep devour it greedily. Disease is the conse- quence of this sudden repletion ; nor is it only the adult sheep that are thus attacked, the lambs are not exempt. Born of emaciated feeble ewes early in the spring, what can be expected but that they should be puny and weakly? The mothers yield but little milk of poor quality, and even of that milk the starveling lambs are not allowed half, a great portion being abstracted in order to make a villainous sort of cheese. The sheep-houses in which the ewes with their young are driven at night are damp, low, completely closed, and oppressive, and the little fodder allowed is tlie vilest trash. It is little therefore to be wondered at, that when the green herbage springs up both sheep and lambs should gorge themselves on the rank vegetation. The disease is now rife. " Its early symptoms are — suspension of rumination, loss of appetite, dulness, weeping from the eye, coldness of the ears, alternate shiverings and flushings of heat. Soon afterwards the mouth and the breath become hot, the eyes ai-e red, the pulse is acce- lerated, weak, and irregular; there is a mvicous discharge from the nostrils, this soon becomes bloody, and then mixed with puiiilent matter and blood. By degrees the urine becomes bloody, and the dung is covered with grumous blood ; the head and the legs are swelled, the debility is extreme, and the animal dies in the course of eight or ten days." Few individuals survive ; those in the best condition and those previously out of health are sure to fall ; but lank sheep, if otherwise in good health, sometimes struggle through. M. Tessier afiirms that he has little faith in any medical treatment ; the farmers give dry food with salt, camphorated diinks, and various vegetable tonics. It would appear that this fever of Maladie de Sologne, after the inflammatory stage, assumes a typhoid character ; in this latter part of its course nothing can be done, but perhaps at the commence ment of the inflammatory stage bleeding and pur- gatives, with dry food, might prove, often at least, successful. The appearances after death are described as THE SHEEP. 187 follows : — " The mesenteric glands are usually enlarged ; there is eflusion to uo great extent of bloody seruui in the thoracic and abdominal cavi- ties ; little affection of the small intestines, but the large ones exhibit spots or patches of inflam- mation and extravasation ; the liver enlarged, and having vesicular accumulations of thick red fluid on its surface. The lining membrane of the air- passages is red, the passages themselves filled with a bloody spume or with pure blood ; the surface of the lungs covered with ecchymosis ; and the right ventricle of the heart usually inflamed." The directions given by M. Tessier relative to this disease are preventive — viz., to keep the flock in the sheep-house as much as possible during the rainy season ; to feed the pregnant or suckling ewes upon better provender ; to abandon the system of milking them ; to abstain from turn- ing the lambs into those marshy situations on which the farmer is afraid to place the mothers, in consequence of the danger to which they are there exposed of being affected by the rot; to keep salt within the reach both of the ewes and lambs ; to avoid sending the sheep to field when the weather is cold, and to drive them back to shelter when storms threaten ; not to shear the sheep so early as is customary ; and to endeavour by every possible means to drain the ponds and marshes with which Sologne and so many other districts of France abound. — Tessier, Instruction sitr les Betes a Laine. BR.^XY TYPHUS FEVER OF TOUATT. A highly febrile condition, depending upon the acute inflammation of some of the viscera, often rapidly assumes a typhoid form ; hence Mr. Youatt terms it tyjihiis fever, and he rightly observes that it is common in Scotland, where, with other similar diseases, it has the general appellation of braxy. This term, the true meaning of which is not veiy palpable, is. as w-e have said, applied to several intlamniatory affections. Water hraxij, for example, is inflammation of the serous membranes of the abdomen, ending in the effusion of bloody serum. Dry hra.rij is inflammation of the mucous membrane of the stomach and bowels, and is very rapid in its progress, often destroying life within a few hours of the symptoms being observed, so suddenly does the inflammatory action prostrate the vital powers, so quickly do the typhoid symptoms succeed those of burning fever. This is the typlnis fever of Youatt. It is most prevalent in autumn, as the food becomes scanty, and the sheep resoi-t to diy, harsh, and indigestible ali- ment, at the same time that they are exposed to cold and wet, bleak winds, and driving sleets. Mr. Spooner says that dry hraxy is produced often b}' rank grass and rotten leaves. The symptoms, he says, are a quick pulse, hurried breathing, the mouth and skin hot, the wool clapped, the belly sometimes swelled, and the bowels confined. The celebrated Ettrick Shepherd and Poet, Mr. Hogg, was well acquainted with this form of braxy. According to his observations, loss of cud, or the arrest of rumination, is the first symptom to be noticed : soon the animal exhibits signs of great internal agony, it stands with the back bowed and the four feet brought all closely together into the smallest compass, it giinds its teeth, it is uneasy in every posture, it lies down, and in a few minutes gets up again, and again lies down to rise up and re-assume its cowering attitude, it bleats from the violence of the pain, and creeps into some retired spot away from its companions. The eyes are heavy and dull, and the countenance is expressive of great suffering. The ears hang down, the mouth is dry, and the inside of it, or of the hps, or of both, is covered wdth pustules or ulcers. The pulse is full and quick at first, but it soon assumes the character of debility, and great pi'ostration of strength rapidly supervenes. The urine is high coloin-ed, the dung covered with fcetid mucus, and the breath most offensive. Mortification has now commenced, the agony ceases, and the poor animal is destined to a speedy death. On dissection the appearances are various, but in all cases decomposition is rapid. Generally the heart is found gorged with black blood, the lungs are gangrenous, and often the liver enlarged and putrid ; the mucous or lining membrane of the alimentary canal evinces active inflammation throughout the whole of its extent, the fourth stomach is often mortified, and the smell of the contents is horrible. The body emits a strong sulphurous odour, and the flesh has been fre- quently known to engender disease in animals that have eaten it. Prevention is here important, and the rules laid down by Mr. Hogg in his Mountain Shepherd's Manual are well worthy of attention, especially by the Scottish sheep farmer, among whose flocks the disease is most prevalent : many of the obsei'va- tions indeed are generally applicable. To obviate the causes of this disease, it may, he says, " be probably advisable to smear the hogs a month or six weeks earlier than the rest of the flock. This will operate in two ways — first, it will defend the animal from wet and cold ; and next, the irritation excited in the skin by the smearing stuff, if containing tar or turpentine, contributes to remove any tendency to inflammation from the internal parts. This is a circumstance perfectly understood by medical men, who in ordi- nary practice apply stimulating matters to the skin for this purpose ; and it is in this way that blisters act. "As about the end of autumn the vegetation of the grasses becomes feeble, and the leaves become 188 THE SHKEP. soft, and in moist weather rot, it will be of im- portance to keep the sheep away from the richer pastures until the decayed leaves become dry. And in order to reduce the pasture to a proper state, it may be useful to allow old sheep to graze upon it for some time previous to the hogs being put on, and thus the grass will become short and free from rotten leaves. This will have another advantage ; it will prevent the hogs from filling their paunches too rapidly. They should be driven from the succulent pasture to that which is drier every night. The value of turnips, alternating Avith dry heathy food, is immense in preventing the destmctive disease. Four or five hours on turnips in the twenty-four is quite sufficient. " It has been observed that this disease appears earlier in the season on lands where the grass has been preserved, and at a later period where it has been regularly depastured. It ceases when winter sets in, but appears again in the spring. It is most prevalent where the ground is dry, and the heath mi.\ed with fine grass, and especially where fern grows in abundance. Sheep feeding on strong clay land are not apt to be affected, and the same may be said in respect to mossy soils which carry evergreen plants." With respect to the mode of cure — in this disease, unless remedial measures be resorted to in the early stage, there is no hope. The lancet and Epsom salts are the chief dependences : blood must be taken, and purgatives administered with- out unnecessary delay. Mr. Hogg in the Manual quotes some cases forwarded to him by Mr. Stephenson, a surgeon, in some of which his mode of treatment proved successful— out of twenty-five cases si.xteeu recovered, nine died. His plan was to bleed by free incisions across the tail, in the eye-vein, in the jugular, in the limbs, or in fact wherever blood could be obtained : after this, Glauber salts {]^ ounce) were given in warm water ; and where these could not be obtained, a handful of salt, by means of the spout of a common tea-pot. The diet consisted of meal and water, and boiled hay. We may select two cases by way of example : — " On the 7th of December, 1 804, another sheep was brought home. The shepherd had seen it affected in the morning, but it was not brought home till dinner on account of the distance. When brought home it could not stand, which we attri- buted to the tying of its legs for the purpose of being carried home a distance of nearly four miles. The eye was dull, wool clapped, pulse quick and strong, mouth dry, and a kind of palpitation at the heart. The urine was red like blood. On cutting the tail, two or three drops of blood on]j% black and thick like tar, followed the incision, which, however, soon stopped. The vein on the inside of the fore-leg was opened, from which also no more than two or three drops came, of the , same black and grumous appearance. The ear ' was also cut in the inside, but httle or no blood came from it. An ounce and a-half of Glauber salts were given in a pint of warm water, and an old blanket thrown over it. In three-quarters of an hour the tail was bleeding very freely, but the other places had stopped. The animal was lying down, and could not rise. The pulse was quick, and it was apparently veiy sick. In the evening, about two hours after, it was much in the same way, only the skin was not quite so hot. It got a little meal boiled in water, and the blanket was left on it during the night. On looking at it next morning, it was risen, but scarcely able to walk. The tail had bled a considerable quantity, and it would not eat. The wool was clapped to its body, and it still had a very languid appearance, pro- bably from the blood it had lost. It got a little more boiled meal and water, and the salts ope- rated. In the afternoon it was eating a little boiled hay, and from this time gradually recovered, without any other application. It continued very weak for about eight days, when the wool was risen to its usual appearance, and it was sent to join the flock." "On the 14th of November, 1803, a young sheep was observed affected with sickness (as bra.xy ' is in some parts termed). It belonged to a friend of a mine ; during the time I was on a visit to his house. He had ordered it to be killed, alleging that sickness was uniformly fatal, but was easily persuaded to try something for its relief, as, if it succeeded, it might be advantageous in cases of a similar kind. The appearance of the sheep upon viewing it was by no means favourable for a trial. The wool was clapped, the eye was red, the pulse strong and full, the skin very hot, breathing laboiious with considerable wheezing, and it was scarcely able to stand. The belly was somewhat swelled, and the mouth quite parched, it was bled in the tail, neck, fore-leg and hind-leg, belly, and ear, from which there was a little blood got of a dark colour. As no Glauber salts could be had, a handful of salt was given to it dissolved in a teapotful of warm water, and it was left in a house by itself. In half an hour it was found lying down, and we thought it dying. On going to it, it I'ose, but could not walk. The tail was bleeding pretty freely, and the blood flowing from it was rather of a redder colour ; the pulse was quicker, but not so strong ; and the other wounds had bled a little. The symptoms were not increased, but it did not seem better. " As there happened to be some saltpetre or nitre in the house, we gave a teaspoonful of it in another teapot of warm water, but reserved the half, which was afterwards given at the inter- val of an hour, when the heat was rather less, THE shef:p. 189 and the skin somewhat moist. At the end of the second hour, it had passed a considerable quantity of urine, and seemed rather more relieved. In two hours more the salt had operated, and the wound still continued dropping. It got a large teapotful of meal and water. Next morning it looked much better, but would not eat. In the afternoon it ate a little boiled hay, which it lived on for two days, v;\\en it was put into a park by itself. In two days more it was sent to join the dock." These two cases are sufficient to illustrate the mode of treatment pursued, and they serve to show that, if tlie disease be taken in time, the chances in favour of cure are more than equal — perhaps three in five. In Sir Walter Scott's novel of Redgmintlet, Summertrees speaks of being fed by the shepherds, after his singular escape from the military, upon bear-meal scones and braxy mutton ; and the writer adds in a note — " Braxy mutton, the flesh of sheep that has died of disease, not by the hand of the butcher. In pastoral countries it is used as food with little scruple." Is there not some slight mistake here? Should it not be, the flesh of sheep which, showing decided symptoms of disease, are at once killed by the shepherds for the sake of the mutton '? WATER BEAXy, ACUTE DROPSY, OR REDWATER. This disease is essentially inflammation of the serous membranes of the abdomen, or chest, or of both, terminating speedily in effusion and death. From the colour of the serous effusion, which is stained blood, it has obtained the name of red n-ater. Lambs are particularly liable to its attack, and most so in the autumn and early part of winter, and also soon after they are yeaned, especially during cold wet weather, and in damp situations. Sheep when first put upon turnips are also subject to it, and so rapid is its progress, that a sheep exhibiting nothing wrong in the evening, may be found lying dead, in the natural attitude of sleep, when the shepherd visits his charge in the morning. On dissection the peritoneal membrane, and perhaps also the pleura and pericardium, W'ill be found in a state of high inflammation, and the abdominal cavity, and the chest and pericardium, filled with a red serous effusion. We may attri- bute the cause to a sudden change of pasture, from a dry soil to a cold and wet one, on which, having taken a new and rich kind of food, the animal lies down to ruminate. The peritoneal coat becomes chilled, reaction follows, and runs oil to inflammation, which rapidly produces effusion and death. It is not always, however, that the course of this disease is so rapid, or that no precursoiy symp- toms are manifested. It frequently happens that a sheep indicates by its actions that this disease is commencing. It is dull and listless, it lags behind its companions, it stands with its head stretched out, and its flanks tucked up, as if labouring under great pain ; its breathing is difficult, sometimes the bowels are constipated, at others unnaturally purged. Soon the abdomen begins to swell — the animal evinces its great uneasiness by repeatedly lying down and getting up, or by rolling on the ground ; the effusion proceeds, the breathing is laborious, and soon ceases. It is only at the commencement of this disease that there is any chance of success. Bleeding, followed up by aperients, warm fomentations to the abdomen, and shelter from cold with a change of food, are the means to be resorted to. It must be confessed that the chances of cure are very slight, and it is perhaps the farmer's best plan, on tlie first appearance of the symptoms of acute dropsy, to slaughter the animal at once. These symptoms, however, are obscure, they are not readily to be dis- tinguished from those of other inflammatory diseases, particularly at their commencement: but when one sheep in the flock has died, and of this disease, as ascertained by examination after death, the farmer may be pretty sure that others wfll follow, and should watch diligently, and save the flesh of the sheep or lamb by immediate slaughter. At the same time, let him change the situation and diet of the flock, and give them shelter. Acute dropsy, as it may well be termed, must not be confounded with that species of dropsy which is the consequence of general debility, or the result of chronic or slow and insidious diseases — aslnflam- mation of the liver, chronic enteritis, and even of old age itself. In these cases, there is not only abdominal dropsy, but the skin of the jaws and legs becomes anasarcous, indicative of the failuro of the vital energy of the system. We know not that anything can be done in such cases ; it will be right to keep up a moderate action of the bowels, and administer tonics, as gentian and ginger. Some have recommended tapping by means of a trochar, but we place no faith in any medicines or in any operation. Colic is a spasmodic, not an inflammatory, disease, but we here advert to it, as it has to be distinguished from enteritis or inflammation of the bowels. It is rare in adult sheep, but in the W'inter house-lamb over-crammed with milk, and in the grass-fed lamb liable to crop rank or acrid herbage, it is not unfrequent. The lamb moans, is restless, strikes at the sides of the belly with its hind feet, and seems distressed with pain. An aromatic purgative, composed of an ounce of Epsom or Glauber salts, with two scruples of ginger, and thirty drops of laudanum, may be made up into a 190 THE SHEEP. drench with good peppermint water, and given as soon as possible. Soon after this warm gruel should be administered ; and if in a few hours the bowels are not relieved, the aperient drench should be repeated. In the meantime, the bowels should be fomented and the animal kept comfortably warm. Strangulation of the intestines from violent spas- modic action, or introsusception, have, we believe, never been observed in the sheep. ENTERETIS, OR INFLAMMATION OF THE BOWELS. Sheep, owing to cold, wet, improper food, and other causes, are liable to inflammation of the bowels, or rather of the peritoneal coat of the intestines, whicli, if not relieved, will terminate fatally. The symptoms are — shivering, fever, a small quick hard pulse, obstinate constipation, and violent agony. The animal stamps, it strikes its sides with its hind feet, it paws the ground, it attempts to lie down, but the pain produced on the attempt renders it irresolute or checks it; perhaps in despair it throws itself down, then rolls on its back, again scrambles up with a violent and painful efibrt, and looks wild and distracted. Gradually it begins to waste away, and soon dies. Occasionally it becomes delirious, the pupil is widely dilated, and the brain is evidently in a state of congestion. After death, the intestines will be found highly inflamed, portions of them will be adherent or agglutinated together ; patches of gangrene are often numerous, and there is generally an effusion of limpid serum, or of ofl'ensive purulent matter. Dry hard layers of food are frequently found in the mauiplus, and the lungs are congested with blood. Prompt and active treatment in the early stage is imperatively demanded. This consists in the abstraction of blood according to the strength of the sheep, and in the persevering administration of purgatives until the bowels act freely. When this is effected by Epsom salts, their action may be kept up by sulphur in ounce doses. The food should consist of mashes and gruel. Fomentations are useful. As soon as the bowels begin to act freely, a gi'ain or two of opium in gruel will be advisable, as tending, by mitigating the pain, to subdue the violence of the inflammation. It will be here at once perceived that enteritis and acute dropsy are closely-allied diseases. In the latter, it is the mesenteric and the omental portions of the peritoneal membrane, and its reflexion over the abdominal muscles, that are the chief seat of the ^^olent and excessively rapid inflammation. In enteritis it is the peritoneal coat investing the intestines themselves, together with the muscular layer beneath, to which the inflam- mation is chiefly confined. Hence, in the acute dropsy, the more extensive serous effusion, and perhaps the less degree of intense agony, than is endured in enteritis. In enteritis we have adhesions, ulcerations, gangrene, and effusion but not to a large extent, and often much mixed with purulent matter ; in acute dropsy, excessive effusion of sanguineous serum. In both the principles of treatment are the same. DIARRHCEA. By diarrhoea we mean simple purging, apising either from a relaxed state of the mucous mem- brane of the alimentary canal, or from the pre- sence of some acrid or irritating matter in the bowels, which nature thus makes an effort to get rid of. Many persons confound diarrhcea with dysentery ; and it is trae that the former, from the persistence of irritation, may run into the latter, but dysentery commences as a febrile dis- ease with inflammation. Diarrhoea should never be neglected. It either* indicates debility or improper food, and in lambs often terminates fatally, beginning as simple pui'ging, but ending in serious disease of the mucous membrane. J* arises from cold, from acrid food, as rank grass, or even from an un- healthy condition of the parent's milk. It is common at weaning time. Now the farmer must not be alarmed when he finds his lambs simply purged ; because, as we have said, it is often nature's own remedy ; but he should watcli them, and if it becomes immoderate, continues beyond twenty-fom' hours, is attended by griping pains and a discharge of mucus, he should immediately take steps to allay it. Change of food is one step, warmth and shelter another, and doses of the mixture termed ' Sheep and Calves' Cordial ' will mostly prove beneficial. A weaning lamb should not be put incautiously upon rich succulent grass, for such diet may not only produce dian-hoea, but other diseases ; and when from this cause diarrhcea supervenes, the removal to a paddock or field of close-cropped herbage on a dry soil is essential. In suckling lambs, it is perhaps ad- visable to remove them from the ewes, and sub- stitute boiled cow's milk for that of the natural mother, the doses of cordial being given once or twice a- day. With respect to full-grown sheep, the same ob- servations relative to pastm-e will apjily. Diarrhoea is a spring affection, generally speaking, occa- sioned by the new succulent grass, and need not, unless severe, be checked;, but if severe or con- tinuous, then the change of pasturage is necessary. Hogg saj s, '• Purging seldom proves fatal to sheep. It is sometimes of service to their general health, and ought never to be stopped too soon. But this complaint sometimes proceeds so far as to bring on great debility if its violence be not checked. When the flux is moderate, change of diet from soft to dry food for a few days may THE SHEEP. 191 effect a cure ; but if tlie purging be considerable, a quarter of an ounce of prepared chalk may be given in au English pint of cow's milk, a little warmed. The dose may be repeated at the end of two days, if symptoms of amendment have not appeared. If the purging be very violent, and attended by straining, the first dose should be a drachm of rhubarb, and, after it has operated, chalk may be given. When cured, the animal must be gradually accustomed to its pasture, otherwise the rich tender grass may occasion a relapse." In addition to the chalk, it may be well to give with it a grain or two of opium. DYSENTERY. Dysentery consists in inflammation of the mucous membrane of the intestines, producing not only an increased secretion of mucus, but a morbid alteration in its character ; and conse- quently it differs essentially from diarrhoea, which is a natural effort to relieve the bowels of irritating matter. Nevertheless, dysentery often commences insi- diously ; it may result from neglected diarrhoea, but it oftener commences as dysentery from the first, and so runs its course. It is produced by cold, bad food, neglect, and ill-management. It begins by febrile symptoms and purging, quickly inducing emaciation. Generally the appetite fails, but occasionally there is a morbid desire for food, to the digestion of which the stomach is unequal. The alimentary discharge is thin, slimy, adhesive, bloody, and offensive, often intermixed with hard lumps. The abdomen is tender, even painful. The countenance is distressed, the back of the thighs are plastered by coatings of the slimy evacuation, the animal pines, its flesh wastes a\vay, and it becomes a piteous object. Some cases terminate fatally in a few days, in others the wretched creature wears on for tliree or four weeks before death terminates its sufferings. In the treatment of this disease much caution is required, and at the same time the plan ought to be decided. If there be considerable fever, and in the early stage the febrile action is generally considerable, blood ought to be abstracted according to the sti-ength of the sheep ; then, strange as it may seem, aperient medicine should be adminis- tered, for the bowels must be unloaded of their offensive morbid secretion. A good aperient in this case may be made up as follows : — Linseed or castor oil, 2 ozs. Powdered opiam, 2 grains. Linseed tea, f pint. Mix. Some prefer half a drachm of rhubarb, an excel- lent medicine, as it acts, in a secondary way, as a tonic and astringent; others give salts, but a combination of these with rhubarb would be preferable. lu the meantime the animal must be put upon a diet of mashes, gruel, and a little hay. Suppose the medicine to have acted (clearing the bowels of their disordered contents), and the fever to be abated, what is the next step ? Gentle astringents with opium. Among these the ' Sheep's Cordial' is one of the best preparations, and afterwards, as a restorative, doses of gentian and ginger may be given. Before however astringents are given, it may be necessary, the fever continuing, to keep up the now natural action of the bowels ; for this pur- pose, ipecacuanha, in doses of five or six grains, has been found very efficacious. Some pi'acti- tioners however give sedatives, and follow them by oleaghious aperients. Mr. D. Sayer, in some cases which came under his experience, as quoted by Mr. Spooner, after administering an oleaginous purgative, gave on the following day the subjoined mixture : — Powdered opium, 2 grains. Powdered ginger, h drachm. Powdered gentian, § drachm. Linseed tea, a small quantity. Mis. This was administered twice. On the subsequent day it was repeated once, with the addition of half an ounce of linseed oil. The plan was persevered in for a few days with the best results. By these means he succeeded in restoring many sheep, which gradually returned to their former diet. Mr. Hogg quotes some cases, in his ShephercVs Manual, the general treatment of which we may here briefly detail, observing by the way that he applies the term hraxij to dyseuteiy as well as acute dropsy. In the first case, after bleeding from one of the veins of the fore-leg, an ounce of Epsom salts was administered, which operated in eight hours ; the pain in the bowels seemed to be abated. Next, five grains of ipecacuanha were given every two hours, for five hours, which kept up the purging, and produced nausea. In two hours after the operation of the ipecacuanha the animal began to eat a little, and the skin was somewhat moist ; the purging now abated, and in six days the sheep was able to join the flock. In the second case, the lancet was not used, but a dose of half a drachm of rhubarb was given, which operated several times ; the next day, eight doses of ipecacuanha were given, one every two hours. The purging continued, but not so much blood or slime, for two days, at the end of which infusion of logwood was given. It w^as made as follows : — A Scots pint of boiling water was poured upon four ounces of logwood, and left to stand for twelve hours ; of this four ounces. 192 THE SHEEP. \\ith tifteen drops of laudanum added to it, was given every morning and evening. in six days the bowels were restored to their natural action, the fever had disappeared, and in a few days afterwards the animal returned to the flock. In the third case the disease had already continued twelve days, the wool was clapped, the alvine evacuations were mixed with much blood, the animal was exhausted, but in a state of fever. An ounce of salts was given, which operated well. Next day four doses of ipecacuanha of four grains each were given, which also operated, clearing the bowels of much hardened matter mixed with blood. Still, though the purging was abated, there was no appetite, and the fever continued. Two ounces of logwood were infused in a quart and a half of water, and of this infusion four ounces were given three times a-day with fifteen drops of laudanum. This was continued for four days, during which time blood and purulent matter were discharged. On the seventeenth day from the first attack the sheep died. On opening the abdomen the bowels had all an inflamed appearance, and a considerable portion of the lower intestine was ulcerated in the inside, its coats were thickened, and its outside was of a blackish hue. There was a quantity of foetid air in the bowels which turned a silver probe quite black, as it did also a shilling exposed to it. The flesh was soft and red, but the heart, liver, and brain were sound. The kidneys were slightly enlarged and flabby. We may here observe, that ulceration of the mucous membrane of the intestinal canal is a common and ordinary result of continued dysentery, and in such a case astringents will be injurious rather than beneficial ; nor ought saline aperients to be administered ; they should be oleaginous, combined with opium ; injections of starch with a few drops of laudanum will also mitigate the distressing symptoms ; when ulceration however has taken place, which may be known by the discharge of purulent matter mixed with blood, there is but little chance of effecting a cure. One medicine, of great importance to the practitioner in cases of dysentery in the human subject, does not appear to have been tried on the sheep ; we allude to calomel. This mercurial preparation has been given, combined with opium, to the ox with advantage (see ' Ox,' p. 136), and might be equally useful to the sheep. The dose would be from five to ten grains, with two grains of opium, mixed in thick gruel ; an hour or two afterwards an oleaginous aperient should be given, and the bowels being cleared of all indurated matter lodging in the large intestines, soothing and gently astringent remedies should be then employed. We doubt the wisdom of giving strong astringents too early, and we consider that emol- lient injections, as starch, gruel, or linseed tea, with laudanum, have been too much neglected. Where the febrile symptoms run high, the disease being in its early stage, bleeding is indispensable. Our plan then in Acute Bijsentery would be — bleeding, in order to lower the inflammatory action ; calomel and opium, to alter the morbid character of the secretions, whether biliary, pancreatic, or intestinal ; oleaginous aperients, to remove all ofEensive ii-ritants ; gently astringent and emollient medicines, in which opium con- stitutes an essential ingredient, aided by injections also containing opium, of which lukewarm starch is the best. In chronic cases, the bowels being as yet unulcerated, more decided astringents may be employed with advantage. THE EOT, AND INFLAMMATION OF THE LIVER. Sheep are subject both to acute and chronic inflammation of the liver, and this inflammation is in its simple state not only often fatal, but it is too frequently the foundation of that destructive pestilence, the rot. Excess of nourishing food, undrained marshy grounds [saline marshes excepted), and causes not easily understood, produce inflammation of this viscus. In acute inflammation there are decided febrile symptoms ; the sheep is dull, it hangs its head, it is unwilling to stir, it heaves at the flank, and the bowels are usually confined. The skin assumes a yellow tinge, the eye is suffused with the same colour, and particularly the caruncle or small glandular body at the corner of the eye. The animal when pressed on the right side shrinks with pain, and the right fore-leg exhibits a peculiar lameness. If this disease be neglected it may run a rapid course, and end speedily in death ; but it may assume a chronic form, and produce slowly or more quickly extensive disorganization of the substance of the liver, and the numerous evils attendant thereupon, and this we regard as the rot. There would seem to be a peculiar tendency to inflammatory and morbid action in the liver of the sheep ; * indeed inflammation sometimes ap]iears as an epidemic, especially in certain parts of France and Holland, where salt is given, both by way of prevention and cure. The treatment of acute inflammation of the liver consists in bleeding, saline aperients, a spare diet on dry food or short grass, removal from luxuriant pasturage, and salt to lick. With respect to that low, chronic, insidious inflammation which produces rot, we shall be able better to understand it, bv treating it under that head. * The liver of the sheep is iimportinnally larger than tl:at nf the ox, and double the p;opoit:oniiie size of Ihiit ol the hunian beinj. 193 Rot is a disease which not only ravages the flocks of our island, but those also of France, Hol- land, Germany, Norway, Nortli America, and even Australia and Van Diemen's Land. It has been known from the earliest times, and" history recounts the ruinous destruction which it has made from time to time among the sheei^ of various countries. Mr. Youatt calculates that in our country more than one million of sheep and lambs die every year from this disease. " In the winter of 1830-31, this number was far more than doubled, and had the pestilence committed the same ravages throughout the kingdom which it did in a few of the midland, eastern, or southern counties, the breed of sheep would have been in a manner extirpated." This horrible malady, the rot, comes on insi- diously— the first symptoms are obscure ; the sheep feeds, and what is more, rapidly gains flesh ; nevertheless it is dull, and this circumstance excites the suspicions of the experienced farmer. He looks at the skin of the animal, and especially on the brisket ; he finds it, instead of being of a clear pinky colour, of a pallid yellow tint. He looks at the eye; the fine vessels seem injected with a yellow fluid, and the caruncle, which ought to be red, is of a yellow colour also. There is no doubt about the matter, the sheep has the rot — the liver is diseased, the bile is absorbed into the system, and is beginning to mingle with the blood. Though at first, probably from the stimulating effects of the bile on the system, the sheep rapidly accumulates fat,* this state of things cannot and does not last. In a short time the sheep begins to lose flesh, and quite as rapidly as he gained it ; the yellow tinge of the skin and eyes is more decided, it spreads over the muzzle, and dyes the fevered tongue ; soon the muzzle, the tongue, and the eyes become of a livid yellow, and the breath is disgust- ingly off'ensive ; sometimes excessive diarrhoea prevails, sometimes on the contrary the bowels cease to act, livid spots or patches appear on the skin, it hangs loose and flabby on the emaciated frame, and air becomes infiltrated into its cellular tissue — it crackles when handled ; the wool falls oft', or is disengaged with the slightest force, the abdomen begins to be filled with a serous eff'usion, dropsy is coming on, the skin about the jaws and throat is filled with serum, the animal trembles in every limb, it is wasted to a skeleton, and so dies. With respect to the duration of this disease, • This was well known to Mr. Bakewell, for when he wanted to prepare sheep rapidly for the maikel, be used to overflow some of his pastures, and when the water was run off, to turn the sheep upon them. They speedily became rotted, and at the same time accumulated fat with wonderful rapidity. By this manoeuvre he would gain five or six weeks on his neighbours. How far he was justified in this plan is another matter. We think he was not. But a person who relishes the diseased livers of geese in pastry, pates de foie gras, cannot object to the flesh of aj jaundiced sheep, with pale flabby muscular fibres, and grea.sy ycKow fat. VOL. II. ■ it varies from two to four, and sometimes even six months. The following admirable account of a post mortem examination of a sheep which has died of the rot, by Mr. Youatt, who spent a life of observa- tion and practical dissection, is too valuable to be omitted. " When a rotted sheep is examined after death, the whole cellular tissue is found to be infil- trated, and a yellow serous fluid everywhere follows the knife. The muscles are soft and flabby ; they have the appearance of being macerated (soaked in water). The kidneys are pale, flaccid, and infil- trated. The mesenteric glands enlarged and engorged with yellow serous fluid. The belly is frequently filled with water or purulent matter. The peritoneum is everywhere thickened, and the bowels adhere together by means of an unnatural growth. The heart is enlarged and softened, and the lungs are filled with tubercles. The principal alterations of structure are in the liver. It is pale, livid, and broken down with the slightest pressure; and on being boiled it will almost dissolve away. When the liver is not pale, it is often curiously spotted. In some cases it is speckled like the back of a toad, nevertheless some parts of it are hard and schirrous ; others are ulcerated, and the biliary ducts are filled with flukes (Diatoma hepaticum, Rudolphi. Fasciola hepatica, Linn.) Here is the decided seat of the disease, and it is here that the nature of the malady is to be learned. It is inflammation of the liver. In consequence of this, the secretion from the liver is increased ; at first scarcely vitiated, and the digestive powers are rendered more energetic, but soon the bile flows so abundantly, that it is taken into the system, and the eye, the brisket, and the mouth become yellow. As the disease proceeds the liver becomes disor- ganized, and its secretion more vitiated and even poisonous ; then follows a total derangement of the digestive powers. The whole system sympathizes; every viscus of the chest and abdomen is gradually involved, and the animal exhibits at its death a general state of disorganization which accompanies scarcely any other malady." Not only does the liver evince the ravages of inflammatory action, but also of the thousands of flukes or parasitic worms which crowd its ducts. Much has been written respecting these flukes, some contending that they are the origin of all the mischief in the liver, others that they merely find, however they get there, an appropriate nidus in the ducts of the diseased liver in which to develop, and that, though always present in such a liver, they rather accompany than cause its morbid actions. The latter, we confess, is our own opinion, and we may apply to them the same observations which we have already applied to the hydatid, although, in the case of the latter, its 194 THE SHEEP. growth is at the expense and wasting of the brain. We deny not that these flukes may aggravate the disease ; indeed, from the perpetual irritation they must keep up in the biliary passages and canals, the smaller of which they block up, swim- ming even against the stream, it would be marvel- lous if they did not aggravate it ; but they are not the original cause of it. As to their intro- duction, the same theory which we ventured upon relative to the hydatid is applicable to those para- sites, which breed and multiply in the liver to an astonishing extent. It is not only in the liver of sheep that flukes are found. They exist in the liver of other ruminants, as of deer, oxen, &c., and also in that of the rabbit, an animal subject, like the sheep, to the rot, when fed upon improper and watery food : in the biliary ducts of the horse, the ass, the dog, and sometimes, it is said, in the gall-bladder of the human subject. The fluke {Distoma hepaticum, La douve of the French, Lehennmn or Leberer/el of the Ger- mans, Levenvorm of the Dutch, Faarcflynder of the Danes, Bisciuola of the Italians) belongs to a section of the Sterelmiiitha or Parenchymatius Entozoa, termed Trematoda {Ciiv. R. Auim. vol. iii. p. 262), distinguished by the presence of cup- like suckers on the under surface of the body, by means of which they attach themselves. Rudi- ments of nerves are apparent. The fluke is about an inch in length, and resembles a sole in miniature, with the fins cut off. The head part is prominent, and the mouth is surrounded by a sucker. A second sucker is placed on the under surface of the body. By these suckers it secures itself in the biliary vessels, where it takes up its abode. The mouth of this sole-like pai'asite opens into a tube or the cesophagixs, which immediately divides into two nutrient branches (apparent to the eye when filled, as they generally are, with dark bile), giving off numerous ramifications along each side. A very minute nervous ganglion appears on each side of the tube or cosophagus, sending nervous filaments to the anterior disc, and a nervous tliread across the oesophagus, which runs on each side down- wards, in a serpentine manner, towards the tail, where it is lost. The fluke is bi-sexual, like the slug, and it appears most probable, as in that animal (to judge by the anatomy), that the co-operation of two indi- viduals is uecessaiy for mutual fecundity. Such is the case in the allied Planaria, a native of stagnant waters, where it may be found creeping like a minute leech on the stems of aquatic plants. The ovaria occupy the entire circumfereuce of the body, and, when replete with ova, are very apparent. These ova have been found in the biliai-y ducts and the gall-bladder in vast numbers, resembling fine grains of sand. Multitudes pass into the intestines, and are carried away with the excrement ; but what then becomes of them, whether they perish or are vivified, and if the latter, what the form is which is assumed, and where the beings take up their residence, are points buried in utter obscurity. If, then, we regard the presence of flukes in the liver (however they may aggravate the disease) as the consequence and not the cause of rot, to what are we to look as the influential origin of this direful malady ? Could we ascertain this, we might perhaps have the means of prevention in our power. Much has been Said and written on the subject, but, after all, we are far from having any certain ideas respecting it. Some have attributed it to starvation or de- ficiency of food ; but the history of the disease at its commencement, when the sheep fattens, shows the fallacy of this idea. The rot appears on rich grounds ; and besides, though short food may produce many diseases, and ruin the health of a sheep, it never produces rot. Some suppose that it may arise from sudden repletion upon rich succulent food. From this may result apoplexy, and similar affections indi- cative of plethora, but not the rot. Some think that defective ventilation may cause it, as in cases of folding, &c. This idea is almost absurd. What deficiency of ventilation can there be in the folds of the Downs? May it not arise from a species of malaria, capable, perhaps, only of affecting the sheep ? We know how certain localities produce ague in the human subject, and we know that in the most deadly spots, as the Pontine and other marshes of Italy, some, nay many, animals enjoy their exist- ence ; in the morasses of the most pestilential spots, from which man retreats with horror, the buffalo wallows at ease, and breathes the infected air with perfect impunity. In hot climates, pestilential malaria, arising after the rains have subsided, and when the burning rays of the sun draw into the atmosphere the humidity of the ground, produce their baleful effects. It is principally, if not always, in wet, boggy, or marshy districts that the flocks become diseased with rot. On lands from wliich the water drains rapidly, and on sandy soils, the disease is little known. They may graze with impimity along the brink of a flowing river, or on the borders of a lake or sheet of water ; but let that sheet of water become drained, yet not dried thoroughly up — let the decomposition of vegetable matter go on in the slime or ooze, and then let the sheep feed on its borders, not one will escape. Let a meadow with a tenacious subsoil be flooded, and the water drained off, and let sheep be turned upon it while the ground is so soft that it takes THE siip:ep. I'Jo the impress of their footsteps, and rot will mark each animal. It is not from the water that they suffer ; it is from the evaporation of it, and the exhalation of miasmata from vegetable matters in a state of humid decomposition. Hence it is that on dry declivities rot never appears, while it is perilous to turn sheep, even for a few minutes, into a neighbouring spot where water always lodges, and where vegetable decomposition is ever going on. But let this spot be flooded by a deluge which converts the upper lands into mire, then this flooded land, as long as it remains so, though it may drown the sheep, it will not rot them ; while on the upper miiy land they will be all affected. The action of the sun and air on the putrescent matters is requisite for the communi- cation of the disease. It is so in the case of ague. Damp, oozy, semi-drained spots are the places in which this disease is rife. Witness the marshes of Essex and the feus of Lincolnshire, as they formerly were at least. Harrison, in his Inquiry into the Rot in Sheep, refers to a farm in this latter county, consisting of high and low lands of a loamy and tenacious nature. As long as a brook which runs through the farm remains overflowed, and the water continues on the adjoin- ing flat grounds, the sheep never suff"er any incon- venience, though they are frequently obliged to wade for their provisions ; but as soon as the flood has subsided, while the land retains its mois- ture, and the weather is hot and sultry, they can be tainted in an hour. The butchers were well acquainted with this fact, and the importance of it ; for, when they purchased any fat sheep from him, they stipulated that they should be turned on Mr. Harrison's meadow before they were sent away, in order that they might be tainted with rot, and thus improve more rapidly. Daring seasons of frost, when the ground is hardened, sheep may be turned with impunity upon spots notorious at other times for the pro- duction of this disease. The reason is obvious : no evaporation takes place, the ground is locked up ; but let a warm thaw take place— let the sun and air draw up the miasmata of the dead and decaying herbage, and every sheep will be infected. The drainage of land is very important, but with respect to sheep even drained land may be peculiarly fatal ; it is drained, perhaps, suffi- ciently for agricultural purposes, but not for sheep; it retains water after rain, and is covered with little puddles from which pestilential evaporation is ever going on, and the farmer suffers great loss. Nothing is more important than the thorough ami complete drainage of a sheep farm ; half-measures are not only useless, but constitute one mode of throwing money away. How far, it may be asked, will the miasmata of swamps and marshy oozy lands extend ? We cannot well determine ; we doubt not however that low currents of air may sweep, loaded with infection, over a flock at some distance from their place of origin. This is a point however on which we have no definite data. With respect to any benefit arising from the employment of medicine in rot, when it is fairly established, we are not very sanguine, but in the earlier stages of the disease, before the disorgani- zation of the liver has proceeded tpo far, some good may be done. In the first place, the loss of a few ounces of blood is advisable, to which a few doses of Epsom salts may succeed, after proper intervals of two or three days. Immediate change of diet is impera- tive ; hay, straw, or chaff should be substituted for green food, and salt liberally given ; salt should be ever within their reach, and if salt-marshes are accessible let the flock be transported there imme- diately. But salt the sheep must have. It may be mingled with the hay, it may be given morning and night in doses of two or three drachms, and when the inflammation has subsided, it may be mixed with powdered gentian and ginger. Salt " is a purgative inferior to few when given in a full dose, and it is a tonic as well as a purgative. Its first power is exerted on the digestive organs, on the stomach and intestines, augmenting the secre- tions and quickening the energies of each. It is the stimulus which nature herself points out, for, in moderate quantities, and mingled with the food, men and beasts are fond of it." But furthermore, supposing tlie yellow tinge of the skin and eyes still continues, can nothing more be done ? Cer- tainly : mercury must be resorted to, but with due caution. Some advise friction with mercurial ointment over the region of the livei', but there is danger of inducing sudden salivation, under which the constitution will give way. It will be far better to administer a small dose of calomel daily, say two or three grains, with a grain or a grain and a half of opium, than to have recourse to mercurial ointment. The union of the opium with the calo- mel neutralises its irritating effects, and secures its action upon the liver, &c. Should the sheep recover under the treatment, the farmer's care will be to place them out of danger of a second attack. He must locate them on the driest and healthiest part of his farm, allow them a portion at least of dry provender, and place an unlimited supply of salt (rock salt) within their reach. And here we would add, that if necessity constrain the farmer to turn his sheep into suspi- cious pastures, it will be well to sup])ly them with this preservative ; indeed, at all times it is bene- ficial; it is essential to the health of all cattle (see 'Ox,' p. 92), and its free use might go far to check the ravages of the rot. As to whether the farmer should sell off his 196 THE SHEtP. sheep while in high comlition as to fat when the first signs of rot appear, must depend upon many circumstances — the state of the market, his faci- lities for getting rid of them at a fair price, the nature of his farm, &c. In some instances this may be his best plan, but in other cases he must combat the disease, and try his utmost in attempt- ing to arrest its progress. INFLAJIMATION OF THE SPLEEN. The spleen, or melt as it is commonly termed, is an elongated s[)ongy viscus, lying on the left side of the abdomen, and closely tied by mesenteric membrane to the rumen throughout its wliole extent. All are familiar with its appearance, but of its precise functions we have at present no very positive knowledge, although many have been the theories respecting it, and many the experiments to test those theories. In the human subject the spleen is the chief organ which in cases of inveterate ague becomes enlarged, indurated, and disorganized. Generally speaking, however, as far as our own experience goes, we find it less subject to disease in animals than any other of the abdominal viscera. It would appear however that inflammation of the spleen is of more frequent occurrence in the sheep than has generally been supposed, but from what cause or causes is doubtful. M. Tochenlin, a veterinary surgeon in the Grand Duchy of Baden, was the first who called attention to it. It is stated to prevail most during the hot summer months, when the animals are changing their covering. Almost the first symptoms resemble those of influenza. " The gait becomes uncertain and staggering, the eyes are half closed, red, and weeping, the appetite fails, and rumination ceases, the bowels are constipated, the flanks are swelled, the breathing is laborious, the emaciation rapid and extreme, and the animal often dies in the course of a few days. Sometimes the sheep perishes suddenly without any, or scarcely any, symptom of previous disease. " After death the paunch is found distended ■with gas, and with food, — the latter in a state of putrid fermentation, necessarily producing the former ; the small intestines are in a gangrenous state ; the liver is partially decomposed, and filled with vitiated bile ; but most of all, the sioleen is gorged with blood, softened, enlarged, not unfre- quently ruptured, filled with tubercles and ulcers, with, in short, various appearances of disease, but all of them the consequence of inflammation, prin- cipally belonging to this gland, and of the most serious character." We strongly suspect this mischief in the spleen not to be a primary affection — we are in- clined to regard it as the consequence of disease commencing in some other viscus, as the stomach. slowly progressing, and influencing all the viscera immediately connected with it, till at length the climax comes, and the animal almost suddenly perishes. Then, because the previous indisposition of the animal has been unnoticed, and the spleen is found to be diseased, the cause of all is attributed to this oi'gan, whereas, in tnith, it has been drawn into disease by the pre-existing morbid condition of another viscus. With respect to any plan of treatment we have nothing to say. Could we, from any definite symp- toms, ascertain the existence of inflammatory action in this organ, we should have recourse to bleeding and aperients, which in all febrile diseases are the remedies chiefly to be depended upon ; and, indeed, granting that no definite symptoms are to be detected, still the fevered condition of the system will demand these modes of reducing in- flammatory action. So far then we cannot err ; if they were manifest could we do more ? we sus- pect not. ACUTE INFLA^IMATION OF THE LUNGS, OR PNEUMONIA. Next to the rot inflammation of the lungs is perhaps the most common and most fatal disease to which sheep are liable, it runs a rapid course, and can be arrested only during the first stage, and the most vigorous treatment is necessary. Various causes produce this malady ; sudden cold acting on the body when overheated, the loss of the wool during inclement or changeable weather, hard driving, and the like. It often appears among the flocks in April, when the days are warm and the nights cold or frosty. Lambs overheated with play are at this season very liable to it, and both in sheep and lambs the farmer's loss is often very severe. Inflammation of the lungs comes on with the usual febrile symptoms, shivering, succeeded by fever, a hard quick pulse, loss of appetite, and arrest of rumination, the flanks heave, and a frequent and painful . cough distresses the animal. This cough increases in violence, and the breathing becomes laboured, soon the pulse begins to waver, fcetid raatter'runs from the nose, the animal grinds its teeth, and is tormented with thirst. Now comes the last stage ; the cough changes its character and is weaker than before, the flanks heave convulsive- ly, the pulse is almost imperceptible, the discharge from the nostrils increases, often there is a cracking from air beneath the skin on pressure of the loins, the animal staggers, and the expression of the eye and countenance denotes great suffering — happily soon to terminate, for unconsciousness and deatli are near. On examination after death, the lungs will be found distended and gorged with black putrescent blood, and tiieir substance to be gangrenous, so that a touch breaks it down or lacerates it. The heart mostly exhibits traces of inflammation, and there is THE SHKEP. [97 fulness of the maniplus, distention of the aboma- sum, and often enlargement and softening of the liver. From the peculiar conrlition of the lungs, the shepherds not unaptly call this disease rot of the lights. It is only at the commencement of this disease that treatment is of any avail. Bleeding is the sheet-anchor of our hopes. Let the wool on the neck be parted (it need not be clipped), the jugular vein opened, and a pint of blood be extracted. All other modes of bleeding are here useless ; what is done must be done effectually. After this smart purgatives must be given and their action kept up. Should the sheep faint from the loss of blood, the farmer need not be alarmed — the sheep that faints is more sure of recovery than another ; the fainting shows that the arterial super-activity is arrested. After the action of the purgative medicines, it may be advisable to give sedatives, of which the following may be adopted : — Niirate, 1 drachm. Digitalis powder, 5 or 8 grains. • thin giMi be given twice a-day. The animals should be kept in a place sheltered alike from heat and from piercing winds ; their diet should consist of mashes and a little grass. When convalescent, tonics, as gentian and ginger, may be administered, provided they do not rally well from their debility. Acute pneumonia sometimes appears as an epidemic, and makes great havoc. Mr. White relates an instance of this kind. Out of a flock of 30(J sheep belonging to JVIr. Baker of Wookey, between 50 and 60 died before the advice of Mr. White was requested. They had been bled, but only by cutting the ears, the nostrils, &c., and then left to chance. Mr. White ordered free bleeding from the jugular and purgatives, and lost only three sheep, which were very ill when he saw them first. He also bled every sheep in the flock, whether affected with the disorder or not. " There were," he says, " but few that were not affected in some degree, and they were dying very fast. It was adopted therefore as a useful precaution, and so it proved ; for every sheep, except the three which were before in a dying state, perfectly recovered. Bleeding therefore was in this instance a preventive as well as remedy : other flocks in the same neighbourhood were successfully treated in the same manner." H0Oi!E, OR BRONCHITIS. This disease consists in an inflammation of the lining membrane of the bronchial tubes, and is characterized by a peculiar wheezing cough. It is apt to attack lambs when exposed too early to damp and cold. Besides the wheezing cough, there is difficulty in breathing, the flanks heave, and the appetite fails. If attended to in time a few doses of Epsom salts with ginger, and removal to shelter, will generally effect a cure. _ In young cattle (' Ox,' 133) inflammation of the lining membrance of the larynx and bronchial tubes is accompanined by thousands of parasitic worms (Filaria), which block up the passages, and often produce suffocation. This is not often the case in the sheep, yet it does occur, and may be suspected when the wheezing cough is particularly distressed, when it does not yield to medicine, and when the young animals have been feeding in low woody pastures. The first thing to be done is to remove them from the old pasturage to one which is well drained and healthy ; afterwards remedies may be tried. Mr. Mayer of Newcastle-uuder-Line recommends the administration of common salt, in doses of an ounce and a half or two ounces daily, with six or eight ounces of lime-water given at another period of the day. Mr. Youatt states that he has found this plan of treatment very success- ful both in sheep and young cattle. LARYNGITIS. Laryngitis consists in inflammation of the lining membrane of the windpipe, and is distinguished from bronchitis by a peculiarly ringinrj cough. It results from cold and from change ible weather, and is sometimes epidemic. In this disease the sheep often stretches out its head as if to breathe more freely, opening its mouth at the same time ; it labours evidently under a fear of suffocation, or at least under feelings of suffocation; and, indeed, from the morbid thickening of the membrane, and the closure of the entrance into the windpipe (Rima Glottidisj, this often happens. In urgent cases bleeding should not be omitted, and active purgatives should be administered ; the animal should be placed under shelter, and be fed upon mashes and gruel. CATARRH, AND EPIDEMIC CATARRH OR INFLUENZA. Catarrh, or Hooze (a name given to affections of the respiratoiy passages generally), consists in inflammation of the lining membrane of the great nasal cavities, and thence spreading to the fauces, the glands of the throat, the larynx and wind- pipe. The eyes are bloodshot, thei-e is a discharge from the nose, accompanied by frequent sneezing, and a cough supervenes, indicative of the morbid state of the windpipe, perhaps even of the lungs. Catarrh, however, vaiies in degree; sometimes it is mild, at other times it is severe, and attended by febrile symptoms ; it then requires active treat- ment, otherwise it is likely to terminate in con- sumption. THE SHEEP. Til mild cases, aperients, mashes, and a dry sheltered phice will probably succeed, but when there is a decided cough, then the loss of blood is necessary, in order that the progress of inflammation may be at once arrested. Catarrh should never be neglected, however apparently slight, as it is apt to pursue its course insidiously till the lungs become radically diseased. Sheep are particularly liable to catarrh at the fall of the year after wet weather; they should be veil sheltered, and have a Ary place selected for their rest at night ; hut to these points sufl&cient attention is seldom paid. With regard to epidemic catarrh or influenza, it occasionally appears as the scourge of a flock, and resembles the disease termed influenza in the horse. " We at once recognise in its symptoms," says Professor Spooner, " the low fever, and the affection of the head and of the mucous membranes, which characterize this disease in the horse." Mr. Darby, in a communication to the Veteri- nary Medical Association in December, 1839, gives the following account of his experience : — " On the 8th ult. I was called to attend a flock of sheep, consisting of 250 lamb-hogs. I was informed they had lost and were losing four or five sheep daily. The shepherd brought three dead ones from the fold that morning, and on closely examining the flock, 1 found the greater part to be more or less affected with influenza. The eyes were closed or partly so, the head veiy much affected, a purulent discharge issued from the nostrils, and some hours previous to death, a thick ropy discharge took place from the mouth, the stench from which was abominable ; a glaring eye with an inclination to keep forming a circle was the last symptom, and death soon closed the scene. "On examining those that died that morning the following appearances presented themselves : the membrane of the w-indpipe of a purjile colour, and the tube contained much frothy mucus ; the lungs were highly congested, as were the vessels of the brain, and inflammatory patches existed through- out the whole length of the intestinal canal. I commenced my treatment by giving the whole flock four drachms each of Epsom salts combined with vegetable tonics, and calculating the proper quan- tity of warm water, Ave brewed the medicine in the gross, giving each sheep a quarter of a pint of the mixture. I afterwards gave to those that required it, small doses of digitalis, opium, tartarized anti- mony, and vegetable tonics. I am happy in being able to add, that after having given this medicine I never lost a single sheep, and they are at this moment as fine a flock of hogs as any on the walks. I should have said, that, when I first saw them, they were on turnips, and having two ounces each of linseed cake with barley chaff. I had them removed from the turnips to old seeds for some days, but they are now on their usual keep. Several of them went blind, but on applying solution of sulphate of zinc and tincture of opium they have recovered their sight." This communication is really valuable ; the syrnptoms are succinctly but clearly described, and the success which attended the treatment is in itself a sufficient proof of the writer's judgment. He did not bleed ; the fever assumes a low type, so that even with aperients tonics were necessary, as well as with the sedatives given afterwards. The following account from the Proceedings of the Veterinaiy Medical Association, April, 1839, by Mr. Glayworth of Spilsby, Lincolnshire, will serve to exhibit influenza under a somewhat different phase, due perhaps to the influences of climate and locality. The author obsei'ves that influenza, so called from its similarity to that chsease in the horse, " is most prevalent in the marshes near the sea, where the land is good but much exposed. It prevails mostly in March and April, and generally attacks young sheep. It was on the 19tii that I was first desired to attend them. On my arrival I found seven or eight dead. They were observed to be ill on the day previous to my seeing them. There were eight more that could not stand, and when lifted up they had lost all power of motion. On examining the remainder of the flock I found some scarcely affected at all, while others were gradually going on in the same way as those that had died. " The first symptoms exhibited were dulness of countenance and a disinclination to join the rest of their companions, or to look out for food. They soon became more dull ; a thin mucous dis- charge made its appearance from the nose and eyes, the tissues being highly injected; the ears drooped ; a gi'ating of the teeth was heard ; and a staggering gait was evinced in walking. As the disease advanced, all the above-named symptoms became more manifest. The animals were able to walk at a slow pace, but if urged into a quicker one they would fall down on their knees, and then on their sides, throw their heads back, and grate their teeth as if in pain. After lying a few minutes they would get up again, although with difficulty, and their manner of walking in this stage of the disease very much resembled that of a horse labouring under inflamed laminte (of the nasal cavity). When the disease had been allowed to run on to this height the sheep mostly became afiected with spontaneous diarrhoea — the faeces appearing to come away involuntarily. Those that did not purge usually voided much mucus coating wdth the dung. After this they quickly became worse ; they would lie perfectly still as far as their limbs were concerned, but they continued to gi-ate their teeth, and a rattling noise was heard in the wind- pipe, accompanied with a frothy discharge from THE SHEEP. the nose and mouth, and an occasional cough. To this death succeeded in a few hours. " The treatment I pursued with those that could not stand was first to place them under a shed with plenty of dry straw to lie upon. To those affected with diarrhrea astringents were administered, such as catechu, chalk, &c., combining with them an ai'omatic tonic and spirits of nitric ether ; while to others that were constipated in the bowels 1 gave a gentle laxative, following it up with a vegetable tonic. This course of procedui'e appeared to be attended with benefit, for out of the number, eight that could not stand recovered, and were able to provide for themselves in two or three days. After the exhibition of medicine to the diseased, the remainder of the flock was removed into as sheltered a situation as could be found, or sheds wei-e erected for them with plenty of dry straw to lie upon. A liberal allowance of oats and hay was allowed, while their general comfort was as much attended to as possible. " To many that gave indications of the approach of an attack of the malady, a laxative and tonic were combined and given. " On the 21st the sheep w-ere not only looking better but had very materially improved. The above-mentioned treatment was continued, with occasional variations according to the circumstances of each case, and in five or six days they were all out of danger. I am happy to be enabled to say that after this there were not more than two or three sheep out of the flock in which the prostra- tion of strength became so great as to render them unable to stand ; and I would add that I never knew one case recover without the aid of medicine, after the disease had lasted so long as to produce the loss of power." We could not have selected any cases in which the necessity of having recourse to a regular veterinary surgeon is more fully exemplified ; and we would here urge upon farmers not to hazard extensive loss by needless delay in calling in his aid. In entering into the details of diseases our object is to guide the farmer, to show him where there is danger, to put him upon his guard, to open his eyes to rational modes of treatment, to induce him to despise ignorant quackery and all its nostrums, but not to neglect the advice and assistance of the veterinary surgeon, whose rationale of treatment we would have him understand and appreciate. CONSUMPTrON, OR PHTHISIS. What we have said respecting consumption in the case of the ox (' History of Ox,' p. 125), applies with equal force to the sheep. It is the result of neglected catarrh, or of subacute or chronic inflam- mation, running perhaps an insidious course, and ending in the production or in the development of tubercles previously latent, which increase in size, unite into larger masses, suppurate, and form spreading abs. •esses, by which the lungs are, as it were, gradually wasied away. The pnigios of the disease is at first gradual, the sheep coughs, but it does not fall off in flesh although it does not improve, at least not so rapidly as others ; and in this, perhaps, tolerable condition it is sold to the butcher. Sheep, according to the present system, are sent early into the market — from a year and a half to two years old, and, consequently, before the disease has so far advanced as to wear down the vital powers; nevertheless an attentive observer, if he notice the conditum of the lungs of the slaughtered sheep in the market or shop, will find in the majority of instances traces of pulmonary mischief; in some there is a curiously mottled surface, indicative of chronic inflammation, in others tubercles of various degrees of development, and not unfrequently in a state of suppuration. We seldom cut into the lungs of a sheep without discovering abundant evidence of disease more or less advanced, yet the lungs have performed their office. The feeding sheep leads a tranquil life, it is seldom hurried, it is undistm'bed in mind, it feeds regularly, and though it coughs occasionally, still it is by degrees brought into a marketable condition. The time has not come for the stage of wasting and atrophy before it is slaughtered ; but it would have come sooner or later had the animal been suffered to live. It is killed while its flesh is unwasted, wholesome, and fit for use ; the general health has not yet been interfered with. But let us put the case into another form. Let us take a store-sheep, a breeding ewe, or ram, not destined for the butcher. The ewe coughs, but she feeds well and breeds, and this state of things long continues ; gradually, however, it is perceived that her cough increases, and she becomes thinner and perhaps yeans her lamb ; now the cough still more increases ; she begins to fall away seriously ; the lips and inside of the nostrils, and the conjunctiva of the eye and the carancle be- come pallid and bloodless. Diai-rhoea occasionally makes its appearance and then ceases, and again returns, again perhaps to cease. Rapid is now the course of the once insidiously slow disease. Ureathing is laborious and hurried — motion is distressing — food is undigested — emaciation makes the frame gaunt. Again diarrhoea returns — nothing checks it ; and the poor animal dies a miserable object. What can be done under these circumstances ? Nothing. It is true that in incipient phthisis, iodide of potassium, in doses of three grains morning and night, the dose being gradually increased to twelve grains, has been recommended ; but it will 200 THE SHEEl not pay the farmer to keep a sheep merely for the purpose of trying the effects of iodine, persevered, in for months, setting aside the trouble. No ; the Lest thing he can do is to prepare a coughing sheep as soon as possible for the butcher. Neither from ram nor ewe ought he to dream of breeding, for the offspring will bear in their system a predis- position to the disease of their pai'ents. Let him, we say, get rid of his suspected sheep while yet in good condition, before wasting has commenced — or at least when he sees that they cease to thrive. We have om'selves frequently noticed a fact recorded by Mr. Youatt, that sheep from warm climates, as from Africa, brought into our island, waste away, and die in consumption. It is thus that we have seen sheep perish in the gardens of the Zoological Society. Accustomed to the atmo- sphere of Tunis, or some other part of Africa, they sink under our changeful skies, to the influence of which their bodies, unclothed with dense wool, are so much the more exposed. After death, the lungs are found dreadfully tubeixulated. BLAIN, OR GLOSS-ANTHEAX. INFLAMM.ATION OF THE TONGUE AND THE PARTS ADJACENT. We have already described this disease in the ox {'The of Ox,' p. 137). It is a disease to which sheep are not very liable, although it occasionally appears, and sometimes even as an epidemic. It appears, moreover, to be infectious. The causes of this disease are obscure. Probably it arises from some unknown atmosphei'ic influence acting on a constitution predisposed to it from debility, occasioned by exposure to wet and cold, or by improper or insufficient food. At the commencement of the disease the animal exhibits the usual febrile symptoms. In a little time, however, a quantity of saliva begins to drop from the mouth. This discharge is at first limpid and devoid of smell ; but as the disease makes progress it becomes bloody, purulent, and extremely foetid. The inflammation now rapidly extends itself ; the head and neck swell, often to an alarming degree ; the animal breathes with difficulty, for the phaiynx partakes of the inflam- mation, and almost closes — indeed, sometimes suffocation absolutely takes place. If the mouth be examined, a succession of vesicles will be found to have risen along the side of the tongue, and also underneath it. Their colour varies from red to a livid hue ; they have grown rapidly ; many have burst, and produced deep sloughing ulcers ; while abscesses form ai'ound, which break out- wardly. It would appear that this (or a variety) is the disease described by Mr. Hogg, under the name of Great-head, as not uncommon among sheep in Scotland, but rare south of the Tweed. He states that on some of the Kells hills in Gallowav, in certain parts of the Grampians, and in Skye, such sheep as frequent the bare and bleak tops of the hills, if the precaution of di'iving them every night to the lower parts be not taken, are subject to a disease called the great-head. The head rapidly enlarges, and at length an abscess is formed;, after this, unless indeed the animal be worn down by the profuseness of the discharge, it quickly recovers. Sometimes there are more abscesses than one, and occasionally gangrene ensues. The cause of this disease, according to the superstition of the natives of the mountains of Caim Gorm and Lochavin, is at least in accordance with wild poetic imagination, if not with philoso- phy. " They say that a most deformed little monster (queiy. Sir Walter Scott's Black Dwarf) inhabits the tops of these mountains, whom they call Phaam ; that he is very seldom seen, but wlienever he is seen it is veiy early in the morn- ing immediately after the break of day. His head is larger than his whole body ; his intents are evil and dangerous ; and he is no earthly creature. If any man or animal comes near to the place where he has been before the sun shines upon it, the head of that man or animal will immediately swell enormously, and death will often follow after very great pain has been endured. The baneful influence of this elf or goblin is often very severely felt among the mountain flocks." — Hogg's Shep- herd's Guide. In the early stage of blain, during the fever, bleeding may be of advantage ; but blood must be taken with caution, for the stage of collapse is to be feared ; indeed, the time for bleeding has generally passed by before anything particular has elicited attention. The next step is to secure the animal, and (rememViering that the disease is contagious) to open its mouth and freely lance eveiy vesicle, so as to give vent to the glaiiy fluid they contain. The mouth and tongue should then be thoroughly washed with warm water, and after- wards deluged with a solution of the chloride of lime (a drachm to a ])int of water). Should there be abscesses about tlie neck or jaws, they must be opened by the lancet, and their contents evacuated. In the meantime, the strength of the animal must be kept up with oatmeal gruel, in which powdered gentian may be mixed, chopped carrots and tur- nips, bruised oats, and whatever is nutritious. If requisite, a tonic aperient should be administered. For further information respecting this singular disease, which may be communicated to the human being, and to domestic animals generally, we refer our readers to 'The Ox,' p. 137, et seq. Too much care on the part of the shepherd or medical attendant cannot be taken. THRUSH, OR APTH^ OF THE MOUTH. In some respects this disease resembles blain, THE SHEEP. «01 but there is uot that enormous swelling of the head, neck, and throat, which is characteristic of the latter ; nevertheless, it belongs to the same order of maladies, and may he a mere variety. It commences with intlaramation of the moutli, which runs on to the production of small vesicles. The causes of this affection are obscure ; but it is sometimes epidemic and very fatal. The first symptoms, as is usual, are febrile ; but the degree and duration of the fever, or the inflammatory stage, vaiy. The sheep is dull ; it pines ; it wan- ders about, ceasing to feed, and ceasing to ruminate ; viscid saliva drips from its mouth, and this perhaps excites attention. The animal is secured and its mouth examined ; several small vesicles are found within in different parts, and sometimes even about the nostrils and lips. This affection is readily cured ; the mouth should be well cleansed, and then laved with a weak solution of alum, or tincture of myrrh and water. A purgative sliould be given. Mr. Youatt has remarked that there is often a curious coincidence between thrush in the mouth and foot-rot when the latter has run to ulceration ; but whether in consequence of licking the foot or rubbing it with the muzzle the mouth has become inoculated, or whether there is a connexion between the two diseases, is not very clear. At all events, when the farmer sees a sheep afflicted with foot- rot, discliarging viscid saliva from the mouth, and neglecting its food, he may be certain that the animal has thrush, and must act accordingly. Although thrush in sheep is generally cured with little trouble, it sometimes assumes a more serious form ; and on the continent has sevei'al times appeared as an epidemic, and proved ex- ceedingly fatal. M. Gelle relates a formidable case relative to the ox ; and M. Paulet [Recherches sur les Maladies Epizootiques, vol. i.) describes the progress of this disease, which broke out in France in the year 1745, among the flocks of sheep. Its career was arrested, as it is said, by t!ie administration of the following medicine — viz., two ounces of crude antimony, two ounces of nitre, four ounces of sulphur, four ounces of bay- berries, and ten pounds of salt, all mixed together. This was put into the troughs for the animals to lick at their pleasure. Probably the salt was the really beneficial part of this composition. In 1764 this disease produced terrible havoc among the sheep in Moravia; and it was observed that in favourable cases, when the thrush about the seventh day began to subside and the scabs to peel off, tumours of a larger or smaller size appeared at the posterior part of one or of both fore-feet. If the tumours of the foot commenced before the disappearance of the thrush, the pro- gress of this latter disease was immediately arrested ; but the lameness increased to such a degree, that many of the sheep lost their hoofs. Scabby eruptions about the muzzle, eyes, and ears of sheep, are not uncommon. This complaint is often called black-muzzle, and is mostly to be observed in lambs. It is not infectious, and is easily cured by a little purgative medicine, and the application of sulphur ointment, mixed with a twelfth part by weight of mercurial ointment. STRANGLES, OR STRANGULLION. Strangles is the common term given to inflam- mation and suppuration of the salivary glands. It is of I'are occurrence in sheep. At first a swelling appears under the lower jaw, it increases, and is painful ; the animal is feverish, it loses its appetite, and coughs, and becomes rapidly extremely weak and depressed. In a shorter or longer time the tumour gives evidence of suppura- tion ; if its progress is sluggish, fomentations, poultices, or even a blister may be resorted to, in order to hasten it. As soon as the tumour points, it must be freely opened with a lancet, and the purulent matter allowed to escape, otherwise it will burrow, and cause foul ulcers in various parts of the throat. The abcess may be washed witii a solution of chloride of lime, and gradually healed by dressings of tincture of aloes. If the fever is venj high at the commencement of this disease a little blood may be taken away, and an aperient given ; but the debility which ensues on the suppuration of the tumour, and continues often for a considerable time, must be kept in view. Tonics of gentian and ginger, gruel, and other nutritive preparations of food, may be required in order to restore the animal to its wonted strength. Sometimes, before the tumour has advanced far in its progress, it may be checked and dispersed by the exhibition of a smart aperient, and the use of the hartshorn liniment, in which the liquor ammonia: should predominate over the oil. Mr. Youatt narrates a case in jjoint, which the farmer may bear in mind, when he observes one of his cattle exhibiting signs of this disease. "A short time since," he says, "the most beautiful of the giraffes in the menagerie of tlie Zoological Society of Loudon was suddeifly seized with strangullion, or inflammation of the salivary gland. He was perfectly well on the preceding evening ; but, when he was seen in the morning, there was an enlargement within the angle of tho left jaw, and occupying almost the whole space between the jaws — it was hard, hot, and tender; and lower down, towards the point of the jaws, was a second tumour, smaller, but evidently containing a fluid. The medical attendant was alarmed, for he recognised at once the strangullion of the I'uminant, and he well knew all its frequent and fatal consequences. Twelve hundred guineas had 203 THE SHEEP. been refused for that animal a very little while before. He caused the part to be well aud frequently embrocated with the liniment (two parts of hartshorn, or liq. ammon., and one of sweet oil) ; he cheated the animal with a good dose of calomel in a small onion, he took away all his corn, and put him upon a carrot diet, and in a few days all was well." HOOVE, OB DISTENTION OF THE STOMACH WITH GAS ; DISTENTION OF THE RUMEN WITH FOOD, AND OBSTRUCTION OF THE GULLET. The observations which we have made in our account of the ox (p. 143, et seq.), respecting the structure of the stomach of I'uminants, are in every respect applicable to the sheep, and need not be here repeated. In one respect the sheep differs somewhat from the ox, namely, in the comparative shortness of the gullet, for the neck in the sheep is, comparatively, rather shorter than in the ox, and of course, from the difference of general bulk and stature, actually so, insomuch that the shepherd may give a drench even by means of a common teapot. For the reasons which we have explained (' Ox,' p. 144). all fluid medicines should be poured down the gullet as gently as possible ; there should be no hurry, no throwing in of the fluid hastily, it should be allowed to trickle down gradually, otherwise it will pass into the rumen, instead of the fom-th compartment, or abomasum, and there lie inert. With respect to the casualties, hoove, &c., above enumerated (diseases we cannot call them), we have nothing to add to what we have already said. Read's stomach and enema pump, of a size adapted for the sheep, and probangs, ought to be in the possession of every sheep farmer, and also an oesophagus tube, with its perforated bulb and stylet. The rude and often fatal mode of relieving the rumen of gas, by means of plunging a knife into it, at the left flank, where it is prominent, should never be allowed ; if a puncture must be made, it should be done with a small trochar having a silver canula, the canula to be retained in the wound so that no portion of gas or food may find its way into the cavity of the abdomen. Mr. Youatt says that he had once occasion to puncture a sheep seven times in the space of four days. It was sent to the butcher two mouths afterwards. There was not a vestige of disease in the whole of the abdomen, and it was with difficulty that any trace of the wounds in the rumen could be discovered. He used the trochar. Some kinds of food, as turnips, green clover, fresh radish, &c., are peculiarly apt to produce hoove, and sheep when turned upon them should be well watched. Nevertheless, we think that on the whole slieep ai-e less liable to become hoven than cattle ; and from the general nature of theirpasturage the i-umen is not frequently overgorged with food ; when the latter does happen, it is in instances where sheep previously kept on short diet are brought vfithout any preparation to a rich pasture, or to feed upon turnips. It occasionally happens that a hard piece of carrot or turnip hastily swallowed becomes impacted in the gullet, pro- ducing symptoms of choking, difficulty of respira- tion, and violent spasmodic actions of the muscles of deglutition. Sometimes this obstruction may be removed even by means of the finger, and almost always forced into the rumen by the gentle use of a probang, made of a tube of leather, with a cane stylet. Even by manipulation alone, a little oil having been poured dowTi the throat, the obstructing substance may be often urged onwards. It is seldom that an incision into the gullet, upon the obstructing substance, is really necessary. (See 'The Ox,' pp. 145-89.) Sheep feed either voluntarily or with impunity upon more plants than does the horse or the ox. According to the experiments of Linuders, the horse eats 262 species, and refuses 212 ; the ox eats 270 species, and refuses 218 ; while the sheep takes readily to 387 species, and refuses only 141 ; hence sheep are less liable to suffer from unwhole- some herbage. Still, however, lambs, especially when separated too early from their mothers, and obliged to browze, often perish from eating dele- terious plants. The most common vegetable poison, from the effects of which sheep die, is the foliage of the yew, which is fatal alike to the horse and the cow. Another deleterious plant is the corn-crowfoot {liammcxdus arvensis), one of the first flowers that appear in the spring among wheat, or on fallow lands. After seeding in June, the plant withers down and can scarcely be detected. It is extremely acrid, and very poisonous. M. Brugnone made a decoction of the root, and gave three ounces of it to a dog ; the animal died in less than four minutes. He put a drop of the expressed juice on his own tongue, and he felt extreme smarting for a long time. He then chewed a small portion of the root, and bis tongue, and palate, and back of the mouth were so exceedingly painful for an hour, that general convulsions of the fi'arae followed. These experiments were made in order to ascertain the cause of the mortality among certain flocks of sheep on a farm on the banks of the Doire, and he traced it to this plant. The most efficacious remedy he found to be diluted white- wine vinegar, freely administered ; in the sheep thus treated the effects of the poison gradually subsided; on examining the sheep that died he found the stomach and small intestines highly inflamed, and more or less gangrenous. In cases of poison from the yew, the best plan THE SHEEP. 308 is to unload the stomach, by means of Read's pump, as quickly as possible, to wash it thoroughly out •with warm water, and afterwards to give active purgatives. New wheat may be regarded as a poison to sheep, at all events it is exceedingly injurious, and if eaten in any quantity soon produces death. In iheVeterinarian for February, 1840, appeared the following important communication from Mr. John Hawes of Taunton : — " In the month of September in the last year, a flock of sheep, more than 200 in number, strayed into a tield where was a quantity of wheat which bad not been carried in consequence of the un- favourable state of the weather. They fed rather bountifully on it before they were discovered by the shej^herd, when they were immediately removed to the pasture on which they had been previously grazing, and no farther notice was taken of them until the following day, when four of them were found dead, and several others were evidently ill. To all that evinced symptoms of disease Epsom salts and castor oil were immediately given ; but, on the following morning, finding that twenty-eight had already died, and neaiiy as many more were almost dead, the owner sent for me, as is too fre- quently the case, when it was too late to be of much service. The first thing I did was to examine some of those that had died, and I found the rumen in every instance filled with wheat, bai'ley, and straw, and the abomasum highly inflamed, as well as the bowels ; the spleen had the appearance of a mass of coagulated blood — its structure being entirely destroyed ; the lungs, in most cases, pre- sented a healthy appearance, as did also the liver. Fifty-eight died in the course of five days after eating the wheat; the others were bled, and half a pint of linseed oil was given to each, and they recovered ; but many of them have since thrown their lambs." This is a very instructive case, and may tend to put farmers on their guard. It must not be supposed that we consider that the wheat in itself was poisonous, yet it became so in a secondary sense, from the manner in which it was taken ; it was swallowed ravenously, not properly masti- cated, mixed with straw, and in an oppressive quantity. What was the consequence? Digestion was at once suspended, the abomasum became the seat of active mflammation, and the spleen so overgorged with blood as to lose its structural integrity. Does not this condition of the spleen seem to prove, at least in some degree, that it is a receptacle for an extraordinary portion of blood, during ceilain conditions of the circulation ? and that it may become thus overgorged ? However, this is a subject we have here nothing to do with ; and, as we have already said, all theories relative to the functions of the spleen are hypothetical. SWELLING OF THE JOINTS, OK LEG-EVIL. This disease consists in inflammation of the ligaments and cartilages of the joirits of the limbs, generally of the knees, sometimes of the fetlock, occasionally of the hock. It results from damp and cold, and mostly occurs in lambs a few weeks after birth. At first the joint swells and becomes hot, stiff, and extremely painful ; the swelling and pain increase, and the system sympathises. The poor animal can now no longer stand, it tries to crawl along on its knees, but soon this is impossible — it cannot raise itself — the whole limb is now en- larged— the joint is dropsical, or it ulcerates, and purulent matter is discharged ; and now the animal wastes away and dies, or if it survive it will be only a burden to itself from confirmed lameness. This disease should never be neglected. The moment a lamb appears to move stiffly it should be placed under shelter, the affected joints fomented, and then embrocated with a stimulating liniment — as hartshorn and oil, or soap liniment — the bowels kept in due action, and cordials in warm gruel be administered. Sir G. S. Mackenzie (on Sheep) describes this as a very formidable disease ; and observes that the affected limbs are often covered with small blisters or pustules filled with a bluish fluid, and which soon degenerate into sores. He regards the complaint as infectious ; but we are not quite prepared to agree with him. The probability is that the causes which produce it in one lamb of the flock produce it in others also. EHEUMATISM. Rheumatism, sometimes acute sometimes chronic, frequently afflicts sheep — generally lambs or aged sheep — and is the result of exposure to wet, cold, and piercing winds. Sheep afflicted with this disease move stiffly and as if in pain ; they force themselves along, and look thin and miserable. Wai-mth, shelter, and mild aperients may be of service ; and in the case of lambs some good may be done ; but in old sheep little perma- nent amelioration can be expected. The sooner the animal is prepared for the butcher the better. It must be fed under shelter, or probably it will not feed at all. Before we speak of pure foot-rot, it will be right to distinguish a disease confounded with it under the same appellation. We allude to a disease of the interdigital pit or sacculus, involving the pastem and fetlock joints. We have already noticed this interdigital pit, which does not exist in the ox nor in many ante- 204 THE SHEET. lopes, although in others it is present. It secretes an unctuous iluid, which oozes from its orifice ; a small opening, capable of admitting a probe, just at the bifurcation of the pasterns, anteriorly to the canal, thence nms down underneath the skin and between the toes till it reaches the coronary liga- ment; here the canal curves suddenly upwards upon itself, and terminates in a blind glandular pouch. The canal throughout its course is lined with fine short hairs. The use of the secretion is conjectural. Occasionally this canal becomes the seat of disease, which, though called foot-rot, is in reality distinct. It is liable to inflammation, generally from the introduction of sand or gravel, or from fatigue, or travel on hard roads ; and consequently the mischief is most prevalent on dry, hard, stony pastures, or in sandy places, and in hot sultry weather. From the course of this canal we may easily imderstand how its inflammation will pi'o- duce lameness. This inflammation extends to the whole of the foot, which becomes hot and swollen. Let the foot be neglected, and what is the result? Abscesses and ulceration. The purulent matter will burrow under the coronet, produce quitter, and perhaps loss of the hoof, while ulcers will break out around the fetlock-joint. It is generally only in one of the fore-legs that this disease appears, causing the sheep to hobble along upon three, but sometimes both the fore-feet are affected, in which case the poor animal is con- strained to kneel, and creep about after food in this unnatural attitude ; we say after food, but in truth the animal feeds but little, it is in pain, ill, feverish, and pining. Formerly this disease was attributed to the presence of a worm of some kind (and indeed even now the idea is not extinct), and cruel operations wei-e recommended for the purpose of extricating this imaginary usurper, this uorm o' the foot. We can only say " there is no such thing." From the nature of the parts involved in the inflammation and secondary mischief, cure, ex- cepting at the outset of the disease, is not easy. If taken in time some good may be done ; the canal must be cleared of any irritating substances, partly by means of a probe, and partly by a fine pointed syringe witli warm water. The foot must then be fomented and enveloped in a warm poul- tice ; purgative medicine should at the same time be given, the animal be removed to a sheltered straw-yard, and put upon low diet — if very feverish, a little blood may be taken away. Perhaps a dis- charge of purulent matter may take place, but this will gradually subside under the poultice fre- quently renewed ; and should any small abscess appear, it should be opened. "We are here sup- posing a very favourable case, in which no actual disorganization of the biflex canal has yet com- menced; but, alas! experience proves that cases thus manageable are not frequently to be seen. The fact is, that in most instances this disease has assumed an inveterate form when brought under the notice of the farmer or the treatment of the veterinaiy surgeon. At first the sheep appeared a little lame, but of this circumstance no notice was taken, the lameness was perhaps attributed to some slight accident, and would, it was thought, soon disappear; but it continued and increased, and then it was perceived that something was the matter with the foot. Now a suspicion of the truth begins to be entertained — the foot is examined — it is in a woful condition — and remedies are almost useless. In this, as in other cases, the primary indications of coming disease are not attended to, and thus it is that many sheep are lost which might have been saved had the first incursions of disease been met by proper reme- dies. It cannot be too strongly urged upon farmers, or keepers of live stock, that no unusual appearance, no symptom, however slight, should be neglected. A farmer should be always suspicious ; he should have a lynx-eye in perpetual watchful- ness over his stock ; he should remember that farm servants, however trustworthy and however accustomed to their business, are seldom very acute or discerning, and that, as a rule, mischief must be very palpable which catches their notice : they may attend well to the ordinary routine of their duties, and yet fail in marking the first signs of some dire malady. Generally, then, as we have said, it is only when the disease of the canal or duct has advanced to a high degree that it claims notice ; and it is then that curative attempts are made. Little can now be done. It is true that the canal may be dissected out, but how horrible the agony ! It may be enlarged at the orifice and laid open by means of a bistoury, or a threaded seton-needle may be run along its course and brought out just above the coronet. We would sooner kill the sheep and put up with the loss, than inflict such torture, especially as the animal will be good for nothing afterwards. However, if the canal be dissected out, or laid open, the wound must be dressed with digestive ointment, and afterwards with tincture of myrrh. When this disease is confirmed, and before the sheep begins to wear down, let it be sent to the butcher ; its flesh is good, the mischief is merely local. From this disease, which may be termed spurious foot-rot, we proceed to that dreadful scourge THE TRUE FOOT- ROT. The sheep is naturally formed for dry hills and mountain districts, on which, by ordinary exercise, its hoofs wear as they grow, and where they are THE SHEEP. 203 not softened by mire, or marshy or humid ground. Soft, rich, marshy pastures are alien to its real nature ; and when we make the sheep an artificial being, we entail upon it many diseases from which it would be otherwise exempt. One evil, of no com- mon degree, which arises from the depasturiiig of sheep on rich lu.xuriant meadows, soft lawns, and verdant but swampy or oozy grounds, is the foot-rot. If we e.xamine the bifid foot of the sheep we shall find the hoof with which the toes are shod to consist of a hard wall or upper portion, and a sole on the under part, which becomes S(jfter as it pro- ceeds backwards, and which in elasticity and functions is analogous to the frog in the foot of the horse. Now the hard rigid crust or wall of the hoof keeps up a sharp edge on the outer margin and apex, and is mainly intended to resist the wear to which the foot of the animal is naturally exposed ; and growth and wear ought to be in a parallel ratio. On low moist land the detrition of the hoof is not in proportion to its growth, and the more so as tlie high feeding tends to induce an acceleration of the horny secretion. Besides this, the hoof is kept in a perpetual state of macera- tion. What is the consequence ? The hoof grows outof its natural proportion, it cracks, the overgrown parts become rent, and sand and dirt enter the fissures and work up to the quick ; but what is still worse, the bearing of the hoof is altered ; thesole no longer sustains the weight of the fore parts — this ragged overgrown crust has to bear it ; the toes become distorted ; the subjacent mesh of vessels and nerves are tortured ; inflammation commences ; ulcers and quittors form ; the coronet is swollen ; sinuses run in various directions ; por- tions of the hoof become dead and detached — perhaps the whole hoof; and bones, cartilages, and ligaments, become involved in one common mis- chief. Granulations arise and assume an unhealthy appearance, and the work of destruction goes on. Another cause now aggravates the malady. Flies deposit their ova on the edges of the ulcers or abscesses ; the maggots enter into eveiy sinus and burrow in all directions ; then indeed the foot becomes awfully diseased ; and the poor animal is a miserable crawling emaciated object. After all, however, this disease is not unma- nageable at the outset ; it may be treated success- fully. All tlie dead and superfluous horn, all that is detached from the parts beneath must be cut away ; the sinuses must be fairly laid open. The granulations must be cut down by means of fine scissors, and then freely touched with caustic. The foot must then be well cleaned, and washed with a solution of chloride of lime, and then bound up in tow. Butyr of antimony (chloride of antimony), from its action in repressing fungous granulations, is very valuable ; it should be applied to the deimded parts, especially where granulations have been cut off", or where others appear to be springing up. We need not say that the foot or feet should be dressed every day, each new exfoliation of hoof carefully removed, the abscesses cleansed, and caustic applied where it is requisite. After each dressing the foot should be embedded in soft tow. In all this there is great trouble and some expense, but under these unfortunate circum- stances what is to be done ? Little indeed unless the disease be treated early ; if not, the farmer will see his sheep crawling about on their knees, and wasting away under dreadful suffering. Is foot-rot infectious or not ? The point is in dispute. Some contend that the discharge from the feet of diseased sheep, applied to the feet of sound sheep, will inoculate them and produce rot ; and although we are somewhat sceptical on the subject, it is but right to say that there is at least presumptive evidence in favour of this theory. Mr. Parkinson, Mr. Hogg, Mr. Laidlaw, and others, contend that the foot-rot is highly infec- tious ; indeed, according to Mr. Hogg, so much so, that the driving of an infected flock over part of another farm, has been known to bring it upon the flock of that farm with the utmost virulence. " As a proof," says Mr. Parkinson, " that the foot-rot is contagious, I will relate a circumstance that happened in my flock when I lived at Doncaster. I hireda ram from a ram-breeder, and when he came to me i found that he had the foot- rot in one foot very bad. I had always known it supposed by the shepherds to be infectious, and this circumstance proved the fact. I ventured to put him to the ewes ; the result was that they took the infection, nor could I free them from it the whole of the time I kept them, which was thirteen months." — Parkinson on Live Stock. In 1815, M. Gohier, professor at the Veteri- naiy School at Lyons, instituted a series of ex- periments in order to set the question at i-est. He had observed several instances in which the intro- duction of sheep having foot-root to a sound flock, was followed by the spread of the disease throughout the whole number ; and this induced him to try the eff'ects of inoculation with the purulent or sanious matter. In October, 1815, he pared the two fore-feet of a sheep to the quick, and applied on the sole some morsels of horn covered with the matter of foot-rot. The part was left undisturbed during eight days. No effect was produced. On the 1 8th of December the experiment was repeated on the hind-feet of the same sheep, with this difference, that there was no removal of the horn ; but the skin of the bifurcations of the pos- terns was well rubbed with the foot of a sheep that had the disease very severely. It was not commu- nicated. January 11, 1816. — Having pared the soles 206 THE SHEEP. of the fore-feet of the same animal, M. Gohier bound on the denuded part a portion of born from the foot of an infected sheep. On the 17th this born was removed. A small fungous ulcer of a livid colour was perceived at the top of the exter- nal part of the hoof of the left fore-foot. Two days afterwards it appeared as if it were healing, but the animal went lame, as he had done on the 17th. On the 25th the ulcer began to increase, and continued slowly to do so until the 1st of February. The hoof was now a little lengthened, and the animal was constantly lying down. On the 8th the ulcer had reached the internal and anterior. parts of the hoof. The horn was removed and the ulcer was healed, but it soon appeared on the neighbouring parts. The foot-rot, for it could no longer be misunderstood, extended between the two hoofs, and the animal became still lamer. The sheep continued in nearly the same state until the 25 th of March, when he began to improve, and on the 24 th of April no trace of disease remained. A mouth afterwards he was destroyed. On the 24th of March, however, he inoculated the two hind-feet, and the right fore-foot of this animal in the same way, as in the first two experi- ments, but with no effect. From these trials it ■would appear, that foot-rot is not very readily communicated by inoculation, or by the matter of the disease coming in contact with the foot, for out of the above four experiments in one only did the disease supervene. How are we to reconcile this with the communication of it by means of a single sheep to a whole flock. Mr. Black, the farm overseer to the Duke of Buccleugh, and who is an anti-contagionist, had (says Mr. Youattj thirteen score of black-faced sheep, the greater number of which were affected with the sheep-rot, and many so severely as to be crawling about on their knees. He turned them into a drier pasture, on which were seven score of Leicester and Cheviot sheep. All the diseased sheep except four recovered, and not one of the Leicesters or Cheviots was infected. Here again we have a fact in strange contradiction to Mr. Parkinson's experience and that of others. Among those who assert the communication of the disease by contact, or inoculation, are Professor Pictet, of Geneva, M. Gasparin, an eminent veterinary sur- geon, and M. Faure, veterinary surgeon of Geneva. The latter inoculated thirty -two sound sheep with the matter of foot-rot, and twenty of them became infected. On one sheep the operation was per- formed six times without success, but produced the disease on the seventh trial. Whenever there is any doubt, it is best to be on the safe side, and, therefore, no farmer should hazard the health of his flock by introducing among it sheep infected with this disease, which, as most authorities contend, is readily communicable. Some sheep appear to be more liable to foot- rot than others ; the Leicesters — the indigines, if we may say so, of flat verdant districts — are far less liable to it than are the black-faced sheep, the Cheviots, and the Southdowns, when removed to moist pastures from their congenial hills. We shall conclude our observations on this disease with an exti-act from an admirable paper upon the subject by Mr. R. Read, communicated to the Veterinarian for Januaiy, 1840. Mr. Read is inclined to disbelieve in the contagious nature of the foot-rot, he deprecates the ruthless use of the knife, and considers that sufficient horn only should be taken away in order to allow the purulent matter a free exit ; and he is certainly in the right. With respect to the cause and progress of this disease, he thus writes : — " Low situations con- joined with moisture are the fruitful and primary causes of foot-rot. Sheep in these situations have then- hoofs, and the integument above to which they are united, and the highly elastic tissue situated between the claws, constantly in a wet and humid state. Go into any such pastures as that described, and look at their feet. Will there not be an increased growth of hoof ? Will not the skin around the coronet and the highly sensitive membrane between the claws be blanched ? Will not the vascularity of the parts be awakened from their circulation being enfeebled ? Now all this is produced by wet. In a few days, perhaps, we have a change of temperature ; evaporation is pro- duced from the surface of the land, and from animal bodies as well, and the ground becomes drier. A reaction takes place : the circulation is quickened, the hoof swells, or rather is pushed from the parts beneath, the skin between the claws inilames, the heels bulge, the coronet enlarges, abscesses form, matter penetrates between the horn and the substance beneath, and disunites the sensitive from the horny lamince ; and in the worst forms of this disease the hoof falls off. The joints, tendons, and ligaments are soon implicated. Sometimes from the overshooting of the toe of the hoof it turns back or upwards and breaks the horny sole from the crust. Gravel then gets in, inflamma- tion is set up, a separation of the foot from its horny covering is produced, and from every part of the foot thus denuded, fungus quickly sprouts. The true foot-rot does not, as is generally thought, so often begin from below as from above. Hundreds of sheep on sharp sandy farms wear away their hoofs and soles, and expose the sensible parts, a little heat and tenderness ensue, and matter forms which is soon rej)laced by fungus. This might be got rid of in a short time ; it is only a spurious kind of rot, and is again produced by the injudicious paring of the horny parts by the farmers and shepherds." With respect to the remedial measures to be THE SHEEP. 2or taken in true foot- rot, Mr. Read says, "WTien a sheep halts, let your attendant cast him. Then, if the hoof is too long, pare it on a level with the sole, shorten the toe, and be particular in examin- ing the foot between the claws. If it is swollen, looks red, or has any discharge of bloody serum oozing from any fissure or fissures, let the solution of bichloride of mercury, or hydrochloric acid, be well applied to the part by means of a little tow twisted on a small flat piece of whalebone. If abscesses have formed around the coronet and burst, they will usually have two or three fistulous openings, which, with your silver probe, you will soon discover. Arm the eye of the probe with a little tow, dipped in the solution, and draw it thi'ough the sinus or sinuses. If they extend into the joint, the same thing must be done. Twice is most commonly sufficient to apply the solution in these cases, and oftentimes, when you attempt to pass the pi'obe a second time, you will not be able, from its being filled with coagulated lymph. If any of the discharge is between the crust, pare the sole, and with a feather or syringe apply the solution to the part. Fungus is sure to sprout from any part where the sole or crust is lost, and rapidly will it sprout. Agriculturists are at a loss in curing these morbid growths, as they resist nearly all the caustic applications in use, both empirical and those contained in the materia medica. Butyr of antimony, quicksilver, aqua- fortis, and numerous other applications, are of no avail, especially if the disease is of long standing. There is but one quick and effectual remedy — that is, the hot iron, which will do more good in five minutes than all the caustics in our pharmacy." The removal of affected sheep to a dry pasture is imperative, and should never be neglected; indeed, in slight cases, or at the commencement of the disease, it may prove a means of cure. THE SCAB. The scab is a cutaneous disease, very infec- tious, and of the same nature as the mange on other animals. It has been known as a pest of the flock from the earliest ages, and is common to every part of Europe. Thus it is noticed by classic writers, and among them by Virgil : — " Turpis ovem tentat scabies, ubi frigichis imber Altiiis ad vivum persedit, et horrida cano Bruma gelu ; vel cum torsis illotus adh«sit Sudor, et hirsuti secuerunt corpora vepres Dulcibus ideirco fluviis pecus omne magistri Perl'uiiduat, udisque aiies in gurgite villis Mersatur, missusque secundo defluit amni. Aut tonsum tnsti contiugunt corpus amurca Et spumas miscent argenti, vivaque sulphura, Ideeasque pices, et puingues unguine ceras, Scillamque, elleborosque gi-aves, nigrumque bitumen Non tameu ulla magis piaesens fortuna laborum est Quam si quis ferro potuit rescindere summum Ulceris os ; alitur vitium vivitque tegendo. Dum medicas adhibere manus ad vulnera pastor Abnegat, et meliora Deos sedet omnia poscens." LITERAL TRANSLATION. Tlie filthy scab infects the sheep when the cold shower Has drenched to the quick, and mid-winter is bitter with hoary frost, Or when on their shorn bodies the sweat unwashed has adhered, Or when prickly briers have torn them. On this account the owners immerse all the flock In pure rivers, and the ram with dripping fleece is plunged Into the pool, and sent to float along the stream ; Or they besmear the shorn body with harsh lees of oil, And mix with it litharge (?), and native sulphur, And Idfean pitch, and fat unctuous wax, And squills, and rank hellebore, and black bitumen. But there is not any better remedy for their case -i Than to lance open the head of the pustule. The distemper is nourished and lives by being covered, While the shepherd refuses to apply his healing hand to the wound. And sits stiU, begging of the gods amelioration. The scab is most prevalent in the spring, and may be produced by a variety of causes, as starva- tion, dirt, wet and cold, and the like ; but the great source of the mischief is contagion. If a tainted sheep once gets into a flock, unless it be immediately removed, all the rest will become infected. It is not so much communicated by the sheep coming in contact with a tainted individual, as by their resorting to the same rubbing places. It is thus that the skin of the sound slieep receives the infection. Hence it has happened, that when a diseased flock has been removed altogether, and a healthy flock substituted in its place, that the new comers have soon manifested the symptoms of this plague. They have rubbed themselves against the gates, posts, or palings to which their pi'edecessors had resorted, and have caught the infection. When this is pointed out, it becomes needless to urge the necessity of washing such posts, &c., and of re-painting them before sound sheep are allowed access to them. If the skin of a sheep infected with scab be examined, it will be found to be red and rough, and more or less covered with pustules, which have broken perhaps in various parts and run together, forming patches of crust of greater or less extent covering a sore or ulcerated surface. The animal is restless, it nibbles itself it tears off its wool, it rubs violently against any object, it scratches itself to pieces with its feet, it becomes fevered, and ceases to feed, and sometimes sinks exhausted by pei-petual irritation and suffering. It is about the twelfth day after a sound sheep has taken the infection that the disease makes its appearance. It comes on with violent itcliing, the animal is very much disturbed, and scratches and rubs itself with unusual vehemence, the skin is at first rough and covered with small hard pimples or pointed elevations, these run into pustules, filled with purulent matter, and they break in about four days and form scabs ; the wool falls off in patches or is torn away, and the fleece is harsh and dry. The immediate cause of these pustules, and all the attendant evils, is attributable to the 208 [HE SHEET. presence of minute burrowing insects or mites (acari), and in this respect is analogous to tlie mange in cattle, and the itch in the human subject ; hence it is tliat when sheej) lie huddled together in the fold, or rub on a post or gate where infected sheep have been, the animalcules are received, creep to the bottom of the wool, and commence their burrowing operations. Yet, strange to saj', it is for the most part in unhealthy sheep that this disease makes its first appearance ; and long-woolled breeds are more liable to it than short-woolled. The history of these acari has been traced out by M. Walz, a German veterinarian ; accoitling to him, if a few female acari are placed on the ■n^ool of a sound sheep, they quickly make their ■way to the skin, and there bury themselves, an extremely minute red point indicating the spots which they have respectively punctured ; on the tenth or twelfth day a little pimple may be detected with the finger, and the skin assumes a greenish blue tint, the pustule now rapidly forms, and breaks about the sixteenth day, and the females again appear with their offspring attached to their feet, or rather the scattered hairs on their limbs. These, in their turn, commence operations, pierce the skin, and bury themselves, live upon its juices, grow, and propagate ; and thus colony rises up after colony, till the whole skin, or at least a great portion of it, is populated, to the torture of the miserable victim, who often sinks under the irritation caused by myriads of animalcule enemies. Every litter, according to Walz, comprises from eight to fifteen. The newly hatched acarus, kept in a dry place, dies in a few days, and crumbles to dust. The more adult animalcules become dry, and perish more or less slowly according to the dryness or moisture of the atmosphere ; but when summer has passed, the adult insect retains its life from the autumnal to the spring eijuino.x, or during the whole winter. This is a curious and important fact, and will account for the sudden appearance of the scab in the spring, when every pains have been taken to eradicate it during the summer and autumn, and when all appearance of disease had been removed. M. Walz tried experi- ments with male acari. He placed some on the skin of a sound sheep. They burrowed as usual, and the scab rose ; but the disease did not spread. The animalcules in due time died, the scab healed, and no further ill consequences ensued. Mr. Youatt makes the following remarks on the production of these and other parasitic animals, which are almost startling : — " The scab," he says, " is often produced by certain exciting causes, as neglect and mismanagement, as well as conveyed by contagion. In this respect it only follows the law by which many other diseases are governed. Worms will multiply in tlie intestinal canal, when [ they have once begun to have existence there ; the fluke will fill every biliary vessel, when the existence of rot has established it in the liv{>r ; and the acarus of scab will continue in its cuta- neous or sub-cutaneous dwelling when it has once been placed there ; but the question yet remains unanswered, how came they first to have existence ? for they have not yet been observed in any other form or state. Physiologists are fast acknowledging the workiiKj of a mysterious but noble principle — the springing up of life under new forms, when the component principles of previous beings are decaying, or have seemingly perished. Thus, if we macerate any vegetable substance, the fluid will teem with myriads of living beings, called into existence by the process we are conducting ; or rather by that power of nature, or that principle which was bestowed by the Author of nature, that life ceasing in one form shall spring up in others, and this while the creation lasts. Thus we have probably the hydatid in the brain of the sheep and the fluke in its liver, parasitical beings which ' we recognise in no other form, and in no other place. They were the products of the disease of the part. In like manner the acarus of scab may be called into existence by the derangements which our neglect, or unavoidable accident, or disease, may have made in the skin of the sheep. Scab may be, and is, of spontaneous origin, as well as the product of contagion, and the acarus having s^yrung into life within the pores of the skin, obeys the laws of all living beings as to its after exist- ence and multiplication." This is neither more nor less than the doctrine of spontaneous generation — an organic living being resulting from a fortuitous concurrence of atoms— self-originated according to the working of a mysterious principle, yet endowed with definite organs, for various purposes, evincing design, and the same in each individual of the same species and sex. How is this — how is it that definite species form themselves, or arise in this strange mode — species which are enduring ? and why the necessity of propagating their kind, seeing that under certain circumstances they are natural pro- ducts, and inevitably spring into life ? Surely, on such doctrine (for where is the line of demar- cation to be drawn), every animal, alid man him- . self, may have thus originally sprinig into exist- ence. Why not ? We are all only animalcules on the surface of the earth, and may have arisen as the result of the working of this mysterious p7-hiciple. It is with like views, that a clever writer, speaking of the fluke in the liver of sheep, says, " I am inclined to consider that the eggs of flukes may owe their origin to the combined operation of heat and moisture, and may be deposited on the blades of grass or plants in vast numbers, and may then be taken into the stomach THE SHEEP. 209 and hatched." Here we have the eggs of a singular | parasite produced by the operation of heat and . moisture, a fortuitous concurrence of atoms under certain circumstances. Strange that such certain, equal, harmonious effects, replete with proofs of design in organic structure, should thus result; that species unaltered should be thus perpetuated ; that the acarus of the sheep, or the fluke of the : liver, should never be otherwise than what they are and have been. Where or at what point, according to this theory, are we to stop ? But why ask ! We acknowledge the difficulty of accounting for the existence of hydatids in the brain, flukes on the liver, acaii in the skin, and of the internal parasites which make living bodies their home, but we cannot understand the law of spontaneous generation. The appearance after death presented by sheep which have died worn out by the irritation of this disease are various, but generally indicate great debility and derangement of the system. In most cases the alimentary organs are diseased, and worms are found in the intestines ; occasionally the abdomen is dropsical, the liver schirrous, and the spleen enlarged. With respect to cure, it is not always very easily accomplished. One plan is to dip the animal into a solution of arsenic, drenching the fleece and skin— half a pound of arsenic will be sufficient for twelve gallons of water ; but arsenic is dangerous, and if the sheep be too long in the .solution fatal consequences may ensue. Mercurial ointment has been tried, and if used should be diluted with from three to five parts its weiglit of lard ; probably the unguenUim hydrargiri nitratis ■of the London Pharmacopoeia, diluted ^nth four or five parts its weight of lard, might be very ser- viceable. Mr. Hogg recommends an ointment which reminds us of that prescribed by Virgil, viz. : — Corrosive sublimate, 8 ozs. White hellebore in powder, 12 ozs. Whale or other oil, 6 gallons. Resin, 2 lbs. Tallow, 2 lbs. Mix over the fire, the sublimate having been reduced to a fine powder, and incorporated pre- viously with a portion of oil and the hellebore. It is a very dangerous ointment. Mr. Youatt recommends diluted mercurial ointment, and directs that the wool be parted in Hues along the back and sides, in order to rub it the more effectually into the skin ; and that all l.iose scabs be removed. Occasionally sheep are horribly tormented with irritation of the skin, and furiously rub themselves, when no alteration on its surface can be disco- vered ; the disease is subcutaneous, but from what cause is not very clear. However, tliey gradually waste awav and die emaciated, 'with the fluids putrescent. In these cases the sheep should be shorn and housed, washed well with soap and water, and then every other day with equal parts of lime-water and decoction of tobacco. Mercurial ointment, diluted with seven parts of lard, rubbed into the skin, has been found serviceable. A mild tonic purgative may be given. Of the diluted mercurial ointment only two or three ounces should be used at a time, every second day for three or four times. THE SHEEP-TICK, AND SHEEP-LOUSE. Sheep are often tormented with these parasites, which fi.v on the skin and fill themselves with its fluids. The sheep-tick (Acarus reduvius) is a formidable insect, and is furnished -nith a sharp proboscis, which it buries, head and all, within the skin. The sheep-louse [Hippobosca ovina) is small, active, and of a reddish colour, and often swarms in lambs and young sheep in incredible numbers. These parasites may be killed by means of tobacco-water, or mercurial ointment dfluted with seven parts of lard. THE FLY. Certain species of fly, about the middle of May or beginning of June, are \erj troublesome to sheep ; they abound in wooded localities, and lay their eggs on the sheep, generally preferring the head, unless there are sores or scratches elsewhere. If sheep are troubled with diarrhrea, and the dung accumulates about the tail, they will select that part on which to deposit their ova. As soon as the maggots are hatched they begin to burrow under the skin, producing great torture and irri- tation, and if care be not taken the mischief becomes serious. The application of spirits of tar to the affected part will destroy them, and by its smell prevent the attacks of other flies. The coarsest i-ankest kind of fish oil, as we are assured by Mr. Hogg, will produce the same effect, and might, early in the spring, be smeared on the sheep as a certain preventive. Some recommend plaisters of pitch and bees-wax to be spread upon the head over the sores, or indeed over the whole of the head, as a precautionary measure ; but the train oil rubbed on it would, we think, be better, and more comfortable to the animals. The following powder, sprinkled on the places where the maggots are at work, is often used : — White lead, 4 parts. Arsenic, 1 part. Suljihnr, 6 parts. Ciiiiiabar of antimony, 2 parts. j Mix well together. GARGET, OR IXFLAMMATION OF THE SUBSTANCE OF THE UDDEK. Ewes, during the time of suclding, are very liable to inflammation of the uddtr, eitlier from 210 THE SHEEP. cold or damp, or some constitutiocal tendency to inflammatorj- action, directed to this part, the rather that its peculiar functions are now called into full operation, and more blood is transmitted to its vessels. It is no small part of a shepherd's duty to ■watch the ewes, especially at the early period of suckling, in order to ascertain whether they ex- hibit symptoms of pain while the lamb is draining the udder, whether they display reluctance to permit it, or whether they altogether refuse. In either of these cases the udder of the animal must immediately be examined, and means of alleviation resorted to. Sometimes oneteat,scmetimes both the teats, will be found inflamed, swollen, and tender, and knotty tumours will be felt, either confined to one portion of the udder, or universally distributed over the whole ; if these are not to be felt, the udder may be more hot and tumid than is natural, sympathizing with the tenderness of the teats. After the udder is cleared from the wool that sur- rounds it, it must be well fomented, and that for a considerable space of time ; a dose of salts should then be given, and the ewe penned up with her lamb and watched attentively, for the progress of garget in the ewe is very rapid, and not unfre- quently terminates fatally. If in the course of the following day the animal persists in refusing her teats to the lamb, it may be predicted that mis- chief is going on, and a rigid examination should again be made. Warm fomentations must be per- severed in ; and if the symptoms of inflammation be considerable, blood must be taken away, and the purgative medicine repeated. In the meantime, after fomenting, the ibllowing ointment may be rubbed over the udder, or the affected portion of it :— Elder ointment, 2 drachms. Incorporate the ingredients thoroughly. The milk must be carefully drawn away by the hand while this routine of treatment is pursued ; and should the inflammation abate, but the knotty tumours continue without dispersing, the following ointment, rubbed on the udder, will prove of benefit : — Iodide of potassium, 1 draihm. Rub this down in two drachms of distilled or soft water till dissolved, and add Lard, ]J oz. Incorporate thoroughly. Notwthstanding all that is done, it too often happens that the hard knots and tumours enlarge, and by their softening indicate the progress of suppuration. They now contain purulent matter which must be let out by means of the lancet, otherwise a portion of the udder will become de- stroyed. Fomentations must be again used, and the ulcers washed with a weak solution of chloride of lime at least twice or three times a-day, until the wound begins to assume a healthy appearance, when it may be dressed with Friar's Balsam. Under favourable circumstances the healing will go on veiy rapidly, so that in a few days the ewe will willingly receive her lamb again. A ewe vhich has once sufleredfrom gargetis very liable to a return of the disease from slight causes; hence, unless there be some good reason for the contrary, it will be the best plan, after the weaning time, to prepare her for the butcher. " There are particular seasons, especially warm and damp ones, and when there is a superfluity of grass, in which garget is peculiarly frequent and fatal. Without warning, the udder swells univer- sally with hardened knobs, which sometimes bring on great inflammation ; and if that is not stopped in the course of twenty-four hours, part, if not the whole, of the udder mortifies, the mortification rapidly spreads, and the sheep dies." In many parts of the continent, and particularly in France, this disease prevails extensively. It is popularly believed to result from the bite of a spider, and is accordingly named Mai iVAraignee, or spider-evil ; it is very fatal, pet haps from the general neglect of the sheep, and the filthy condi- tion of the folds and sheep-houses belonging to the holders of small farms or plots of ground, on which cows, sheep, and poultry of all descriptions are huddled pell-mell together in the farm-yard, if it deserves so respectable a title, wallowing in mire and dung. M. Gasparin regards the fatality of this disease as attributable in a great measure to the ignorance and carelessness of the shep- herds, who supinely allow it to make progress, instead of adopting active and decided measures in its earliest stage. EPIDEMIC PLAGUE, OE PESTILENCE. From the times of remote antiquity until the present age, pestilential diseases have devastated our domestic races of animal, and have even ex- tended their direful scourge to man. Homer desciibes the pestilence at the siege of Troy as beginning on mules and dogs, and then attacking man ; and Ovid [Metamorph., lib. vii., fab. 25) gives a most powerful and vivid accoimt of a plague, which, in days he called ancient, depopulated .5ilgina, or Qiinopia, commencing its ravages upon domestic animals. We would willingly extract and translate the passage, but admirable as it is (from line 60 to 139) it is too long. A few lines may be admissable : — " Strage canum prima, volucrumque, oviumque, boumque Inque leris subiti deprensa potentia morbi. Considere infelix validos miratur arator Inter opus tanros, medioque recumbere sulco. Lanigeris gregibus balatus dantibus sgros, Sponte sua lanseque cadunt, et coiiiora tabent." THE SHKEP. 211 '* The agency of the rapid disease was first observed in the ear- nai;e of dogs, and of birds, and of sheep, and of oxen, and also in wild animals. The ploughman saw with astonishment his sturdy oxen stop in their work, and fall down in the midst of the fanows. From the woolly sheep, uttering piteous bleatiugs, the fleece fell spontaneously, and their bodies wasted away." He afterwards describes the rapid putrefaction which followed death, and then details the symp- toms:— " The bowels are first parched up, and flushing is the symptom of the latent inflammation, with diflJcuUy of inspiration. Neither bed-clothes nor any coverings are they able to bear ; they press the indurated slomach to the ground, but the body becomes not cooled by the eaith — on the contrary, the earth is heated by the body.'' After this, supervene raving, wildness, prostra- tion, and sudden death.* It is true that he is here speaking of human beings, but the same symptoms occur in domestic quadrupeds, varied according to the type which the disease assumes, for pestilence exhibits modifications in this respect according to the organs principally affected. To enter into a detailed account of these dire- ful maladies which sweep away flocks and herds, and spread far and wide, their causes being vague and mysterious, is not our intention. We merely wish to remind the farmer, that what has been may be again. " The earliest record in British History (says Mr. Youatt) of any prevalent fatal disease among sheep is dated 1041, when it is said that the greater part, both of cattle and sheep, were destroyed. Another still moi'e destructive epi- demic occurred in 1125. In 1315 an epidemic prevailed that was equally destructive to the human being, and every domesticated animal ; and another of similar character followed in 1665. In the years 18:U and 1835 an epidemic prevailed among the sheep in the colony of New South Wales ; some of the settlers lost more than half their stock, and the mortality was fearful through a considerable portion of the colony." In the latter instance the symptoms were those of aggra- vated influenza, and the body rapidly putritied after death. Those that recovered were, on the first attack of the disease, bled almost to fainting, and then purged by ounce doses of Epsom salts, combined with a drachm of nitre in warm gruel. The disease was decidedly infectious ; and the loss, oa the average, in the colony was 7,000 sheep. FRACTURES, STRAINS, WOUNDS, AND BRUISES. From the brittleness of the bones of sheep, fracture of those of the limbs is not of unfrequent occurrence. In many cases, the fracture admits of being set and adjusted by means of splints skilfully applied, and the animal speedily recovers. In other cases, it is perhaps better to kill the animal at once, but not unless a veterinary surgeon • Compare Ovid's description with that given by DiUiiel Defoe, in his History of the Plague of London. recommends it. And here we would again urge the necessity of calling in his advice and assist- ance. Unless a broken limb be well set, and properly secured, the poor animal will be lame for life, and it cannot be properly set without a know- ledge of anatomj', except perhaps in the simplest cases, where common sense dictates what is to be done. With respect to strains, wounds, and bniises, the observations which we have already made in 'The Ox '(p. 163) are equally applicable to the sheep, and need not be repeated. We do not know that neurotomy has ever been practised upon sheep with diseased fore-feet, but cases may occur in which it would be advisable, and especially when any torturing operation upon the foot is necessary. We throw this out as a hint ; for we think that when the free use of the knife and severe dressings in foot-rot, or in disease of the interdigital sinus, are required, the division of the sentient nerve supplying the parts might be previously performed with advantage. However, this concerns the veterinary surgeon only. It must be remembered that the nerve will unite again, and that simple division, without excision of any portion of it, will be all that is necessary. GESTATION AND PARTURITION. The period of gestation in the ewe is five months, or about 15'2 days. As the time of yean- ing draws nigh, some farmers put their sheep upon rich pasturage, in oi'der to give them strength so as to enable them to undergo nature's trial the better, and yield afterwards a fuller supply of milk. This is a practice which cannot be too much condemned. In the first place, the sheep should have been from the earliest stages of preg- nancy depastured upon good and sufficient food, so as to be at this juncture in fair moderate con- dition ; in the second place, the sudden change of diet is apt to induce inflammatory diseases, and perhaps the attack of garget, especially if the animals have been poorly kept. The digestive organs do not readily and all at once accommodate themselves to a change from low to high diet ; and when they are once disturbed in their func- tional operations it is impossible to foresee what mischief may ensue. Before the expected time of partm'ition, the ewes should be removed into a sheltered comfort- able spot, as near home as possible, and conve- nient for the shepherd or lamber, on whom now devolves their care. When quietly settled, they should be neatly clatted ; that is, the matted wool about the tail, the inside of the thighs, and around the udder, should be shorn off — a plan which adds to the comfort of the sheep, and to their health and cleanliness. Too much wool, however, should not be removed — discretion N 2 THE SHEEP. should be exercised ; but an experienced shepherd or lamber ^vill seldom err. All is now iu preparation. The lamber is on t'.ie alert, and, if a conscientious man, he will feel his responsibility. We have heard of careless brutal men entrusted with the superintendence of the ewes at this critical period, and we know that from neglect or ignorance the farmer often expe- riences sad loss ; but it is his own fault. Let him bestir himself, and be vigilant in superintendence ; let him exercise sound discretion in the choice of the lamber, and refuse, under any circumstances, to allow the lamber the skins of the dead lambs as his perquisites. What the farmer chooses to do with them afterwards is another matter. In the enclosures to which ewes are at this time taken, there should be no ditches, no un- guarded places, whether filled with water or not, from which danger to ewe or lamb can arise ; and it will be well to have a folding parted off in some convenient spot, to which the ewes that require more than ordinary care or assistance may be conveyed. In open districts the ewes ought at this period to be folded every night, and the hurdles wadded with straw ; if cots are on the ground, these are better still. The sheep feed by day in the adjoining pastures, and return to their shelter iu the evening tuider the vigilant eye of the lamber. Now, what ought the lamber to be provided with '.' We are told by an authority of no trifling distinction, that the lamber " should have with him his lamb crook ; a bottle of milk, ewe's milk if possible, and carried in his bosom or an inside pocket that it may be kept warm ; some cords to tie the legs of the ewes that he may have occasion to assist or examine ; a little pot of tar, with two or three small marking irons, that he may place a different mark on each pair of twins, in order that he may be enabled afterwards to recognise them ; another little pot of grease or oil to lubri- cate his hand if he should have occasion to intro- duce it into the womb of any of the ewes ; a sharp knife with a round, or rather curved, extremity, should it be necessary to remove the lamb piece- meal from the mother ; a piece of stout polished iron rod, of the size of a goose quill, twelve inches in length, and rounded at one end somewhat like a button-hook, in order to remove from the womb a dead or divided foetus ; a sheep's drenching-horn ; a small bottle of cordial, consisting of equal parts of brandy and sweet spirit of nitre ; and a strong infusion of ergot of rye." And really are all these things, instruments, and exciting medicines to be entmsted to the judgment of a man called a lamber, who is utterly ignorant of anatomy in every sense of the word ? It is a fortunate circumstance that the ewe does not often require the assistance of " ignorant" or j " brutal " lambers ; and when she does, how often is her life not sacrificed ? This department of sheep husbandry will never be placed on a good and safe foundation unless men are properly in- structed and educated for it. An impatient shep- herd or lamber uses his bistoury and his crochet when a little patience and gentle means might have saved the lamb — certainly the mother. Officious interference cannot be too much condemned. Parturition goes on more rapidly, as a general rule, in warm weather than when the air is cold and dry, especially if the situation be exposed. This circumstance must be borne in mind ; and if in warm weather the throes continue for several hours, exhausting the ewe without bringing the affair to a conclusion, then the lamber must see whether some assistance is not needed. If the sheep quietly submits to him, so much the better ; but if she struggle and resist, not only may the lamb be destroyed, but her own life may be sacrificed. He had better wait awhile, and endea- vour to conciliate the suffering animal. The natural presentation is the muzzle of the lamb with a fore-foot on each side of it. Having ascer- tained that all is right so far, a table-spoonful of his cordial, with double the quantity of infusion of ergot, will excite the uterine action, and bring the laliour to a conclusion. |If, however, the ewe be greatly exhausted, if her tongue hang out from the mouth, and her appearance denote failure of general strength, mechanical assistance must be immedi- ately resorted to. The fore-legs and head must be drawn forwards— -an operation in which the lamber may show great address, or, on the contrary, great clumsiness. Good sense, experience, and manual dexterity, are here requisite. Trying cases occa- sionally occur in which the head is with difficulty brought through the ar(;h of the pubis ; and some- times even the head of the lamb is so large as to forbid all hope of saving both mother and offspring. The latter must be sacrificed. It is not often that false presentations occur in the ewe ; and when they happen, it is generally iu consequence of rough usage, falls, the worrying of the sheep-dog, and similar causes. In these cases, the lamber must exercise judgment and discretion. His object will be to render, if possible, the pre- sentation natural. The most difficult cases to manage are where the crown of the head or where the breach presents, and loss in lambing often results therefrom. In all cases where the lamb is dead, its extrication should be effected as speedily as possible. For this purpose it may be necessary to dismember it ; but these are rare occurrences. In cases of malformation, the Caesarian operation may be admissible. It has been performed upon the sheep, but, as might be expected, rarely with success. It would be more humane to slaughter the poor suffering animal on the spot, than resort THE SHf^F.P. 213 to measures so painful, and so extremely hazard- ous. It should only be attempted by a professed veterinary surgeon, if attempted at all. M.Gohier, Veterinary Professor at Lyons, gives the history of a case in which death resulted, the vital powers failing after the operation. On the other hand, a successful case is narrated in the Farmer's Journal for May Q6, 1823. A ewe, the property of Mr. W. Pickering, of Kettering, was in labour. W. Dexter, the shepherd, not being able with proper assistance to bring the lamb forward, opened the ewe, and took out the lamb alive. He afterwards replaced the intestines, sewed up the wound, and carefully dressed her. In a short time, the ewe grazed as before the operation ; and six weeks afterwards, both the ewe and her lamb were doing well. The shepherd was evidently a skilful man ; but we deem his success owing chiefly to chance. If he had operated on four more sheep, the proba- bility is that this one out of the five would alone have been the survivor. Still, we say, the shep- herd was a bold and skilful man. With regard to the placenta, there is seldom any trouble. Should it be retained for a day or two, a little aperient medicine — as two ounces of salts and a scruple of ginger — may be advisable. Occasionally, after very severe labour, protrusion of the uterus takes place. The ewe is useless for breeding in future. The uterus ought to be returned as soon as possible, and with gentle manipulation, and secured by an iron ring passed through the labia externa. But it is still better not to return the uterus, but to apply a strong ligature around it as high as possible ; in a few days it will slough off, the ewe will soon recover her health, and should be tlien fattened up for the butcher as soon as convenient. The pregnant ewe is liable to inflammation of the uteras, which generally comes on a few weeks before yeaning time, and appears to be connected with general derangement of the viscera, for it often terminates in dropsy and death ; and in cases where the ewe recovers (if it can be called recovery), the lamb is feeble, dropsical, and worthless — indeed it generally dies in a day or two, and is often bom dead. We know of no remedy. Sheep fed upon turnips and rich succulent food are more liable to this disease than such as are kept upon close natural pasture, and supplied with dry food as occasion may require. After lambing, inflammation of the uterus occasionally supervenes, especially when parturi- tion has been very difficult, and mechanical aid has been resorted to. The disease runs a rapid course ; — bleeding, aperients, and sedatives, con- stitute the outline of the treatment. May we not call this puerperal fever ? Occasionally the farmer experiences considerable loss from it. See ' The 0.x,' p. 169. THE MANAGEJIENT OF L.AMBS. The management of lambs is generally simple ; they are left to the care of their dams, who usually prove faithful nurses. Occasionally lambs are abandoned, or lose their mothers, in which case the shepherd will have to supply them with foster mothers ; and if no ewes are ready to receive them, they must be brought up by hand. Lambs dropped in the latter part of April and the beginning of May, when tlie voice of the cuckoo is heard, are termed from that circumstance cuckoo-lambs. These lambs are usually very deli- cate, being the progeny of young or weakly mothers, and require more than ordinary atten- tion ; nor should the ewes themselves be dis- regarded. Inabout a fortnight after birth, or even earlier, the lambs begin to nibble the grass, and care should be taken that this food be not too rank and luxuriant. The sudden transfer of lambs from bare to rich pasturage is a great error in management, and more lambs die from this cause than the farmer suspects. The sudden change of diet either pro- duces inflammatory fever or dysentery, in both cases baffling all remedies. The liver is disturbed in its functions ; disordered bile is poured out in vast quantities into the duodenum, and fre- quently is regurgitated into the abomasum or fourth stomach. From the absorption of bile into the system, the skin assumes a yellowish tint, and the fat after death is also found to be coloured. This disease runs a rapid course, seldom enduring more than three days, and fre- quently carrying off the lamb in fourteen or fifteen hours. Immediate change of pasturage, the loss of a little blood in the commencement of the attack, and purgatives, afford a chance, and but a chance of cure. From the quantity of bile or gall poured out into the alimentary canal, this disease is in some places termed Gall-Lamb. Few male lambs are kept for the purposes of breeding — one or two are perhaps selected — the rest are destined to become wethers, and at what period the operation should be performed may admit of a question. If the weather be cool, or even cold, and the lamb healthy, the earlier the better; less pain, less depression, less inflammation will follow if the operation be performed when the lambs are three or four days old, than if they were a fort- night or three weeks old : hot or sultry weather is unfiivourable. As to the mode in which the operation ought to be performed, there can be only one opinion. The operator who uses his teeth in order to gnaw through the cord, instead of a rather blunt knife for dividing it (the original incision being effected by a fine sharp scalpel), ought never to be allowed to touch a lamb. What is the consequence of this brutal pl;ni, ;14 TUJi SHEKP. whicli produces fearful torture? Tetanus or locked jaw from the shock which the nervous system has received, and under which it quails. Some men will even tell, from the peculiar shudder, the con- vulsive muscular movements of the animal, that the operation will he fatal, and yet they go on, in the old, and, to say the least, brutal and disgusting plan, without reflecting that after-hleeding, whicli they wish of course to prevent, would be secured by the sawing action of a blunt knife, causing the retraction of tlie artery. With respect to the French plan, termed bis- tountac/e, we shall say nothing ; we never saw it practised in England. The operation by external ligature (a waxed cord, as highly placed and as tightly drawn as pos- sible) has been recommended ; we have never seen it tried, and hesitate to advise its adoption. We prefer the use of the scalpel, and if it were possible that the operator could distinguish the artery from any other vessel, or fi-om the nerve, and tie a thread around it, or cause its retraction by twisting it by means of a pair of forceps, tlie sharpest scalpel would be throughout the best, and little pain would be given. But we do not forget that shepherds and lambers cannot be expected to be otherwise than what they are, straightforward practical men, following on in a beaten track, wise in their own conceit, and contented with their plans — plans in practice among their forefathers, and deemed in- capable of improvement. Docking is another operation which we think should be performed early, although some defer it till the lambs are three or four months old. We do liot know what advantage I'esults from this latter plan, but certainly the animals suffer more pain. It may be asked, why should the lambs be deprived of so large a portion of the tail; what end does this mutilation answer? Custom, the compact appear- ance of the short-tailed sheep, and cleanliness, plead in favour of the practice of docking. It is the practice of some farmers to spay the rejected ewe lambs, as a means of increasing their growth, and their tendency to lay on fat. The danger of the operation is less than might be anticipated, for, strange to say, inflammation of the peritoneum by no means always follows. Much of course depends upon the skill of the operator and the health of the lamb, which ought to be about six weeks old, and without any symptoms of in- cipient disease. To give directions respecting the performance of this operation is useless. It must be learned on the dead subject; no description will suffice to render the performance of it sufficiently intelligible for practical purposes, nor shall we attempt it. The weaning of lambs ought to be a gradual affair, and is so under ordinary circumstances. The lamb, from the age of two or three weeks, has nibbled the grass of the pasturage, and this in an increasing ratio ; the compartments of the stomach undergoing those changes in development and function which are requisite for the management of the vegetable aliment on which the animal is destined shortly to subsist altogether. The time of weaning varies according to pasturage, the breed of the sheep, or the intentions of the farmer. The average time of weaning is at four months old ; occasionally, when the ground is good and it is desirable to sell the lambs in store condition, they are kept with their dams tiU the age of six months. Weaning is a trying affair, both for the mothers and their lambs ; the former should be looked to lest garget should supervene, and if they have been accustomed to a rich pasture, a poorer land should be selected for them, at least till the secretion of milk has ceased. The lambs should be sent to a distant spot, where theii- call may not be heard by the dams, nor vice versa ; if the two parties hear each other's voices and respond to each other, not only will a state of fretfulness be kept up, but the most desperate efforts will be made, on the side both of the ewes and the lambs, to overcome the obstacles which separate them, and a scene of confusion will prevail. Forget- fulness should be induced as soon as possible. Losing their milk, the lambs should be put upon good sound pasturage, but not over-luxuriant ; the farmer must keep the fear of disease before his mental vision — " cavendo tutus" should ever be his motto. Still, he should not starve the lambs, nor suffer them to decline in condition ; if he does, he will rarely be able to restore them afterwards, however nutritious his keep may be. He had better err on the opposite side. Young Iambs are liable to various diseases, as diarrhcea, distension of the abomasum with a com- pacted mass of curd, constipation, and fever, or staggers. The causes of diarrhoea are various ; cold may produce it. Sometimes, perhaps, the milk of the mother does not agree with the young animal, but mostly it arises from the change of diet ; the grass or herbage, either when the young animal first begins to crop, or at the weaning time, dis- turbs the digestive functions. If the diarrhcea is not violent, and the lamb is lively, active, and feeds well, nothing need be apprehended; but if the animal becomes dull, and loses appetite and strength, it must be taken in hand immediately. Notwithstanding the diarrhcea, it will be prudent to give an aperient in the first place, in order to relieve the bowels of all irritating matter. After- wards, doses of the ' Sheep's Cordial' may be ad- ministered, at the same time the animal should be put under shelter, and fed upon gruel and dry fodder. THE SHEEP. 215 III the lamb, as in the calf, the abomasum not uufrequently becomes overloaded with a mass of curd ; natui'ally, the mother's milk received into the abomasum is curdled by the operation of the gastric juice ; but then, this curd is re-dissolved for the purpose of nutrition. In certain states of the stomach, whenitsdigestivepowers are impaired (and this often occurs from change in the nature of the aliment), the curd becomes indurated ; it is not dissolved, it accumulates, and that to a large extent, overburdening the abomasum. Tlie whey separated from the curd passes, indeed, rapidly through the bowels, producing a sort of diarrhoea, but the mass of curd remains unmoved and oppres- sive, and will soon occasion the animal's death. When a lamb in pi-evious good health, and still nursed by its mother, suddenly becomes dull, loses its appetite, heaves at the flanks, exhibits disten- sion of the abdomen, sutlers from the purgmg of a whey-like fluid, or has the bowels altogether con- fined, we may be tolerably certain that the stomach is loaded ^vith coagulum ; this indeed often amounts to the weight of three or four pounds, and unless it is speedily broken up and dissolved, the lamb will die. The administration of alkalis will at least neutralize the acid of the stomach, and perhaps even partially dissolve the mass of curd ; a drench, composed of a scruple of carbonate of ammonia, two drachms of carbonate of soda (sodae sesqui-carbou.), with half an omice of Epsom salts and a little ginger, may be given in warm water, at intervals of six hours. Read's stomach pump is here a most valuable auxiliary. " The solution of 2Mtass in lime-water," the preparation of which is directed in 'The Ox,' p. 174, will be found useful; a teaspoonful or two teaspoonfuls should be added to warm water, together with half an ounce of salts and a scruple of ginger. Should the means used prove successful, the lamb and her mother should be transferred to barer pasture. Constipation of the bowels in lambs after weaning often results from improper food, as coarse dry grass, which distends the rumen with crude materials, or obstructs the maniplus. Aperients, as Epsom salts, will be required ; perhaps even it may be necessaiy to unload the rumen by means of the stomach-pump. Lambs in high condition, feeding upon rich pasturage, are liable to fever, which will not uu- frequently terminate in alarming inflammatory symptoms. The loss of a little blood at the commencement of the attack, aperients, and scantier food constitute the plan of treatment. It often happens, when lambs are over-pushed in their feeding for the market, that numbers, not an hour before in apparently good health, are suddenly taken with the staggers. A lamb, almost without any wai'ning, becomes evidently very ill ; the head is protruded, and the animal stands as if stupified ; if it attempts to walk, its gait is uncertain and staggering ; soon it reels— it is unable to walk— it falls, struggles convulsively, and dies. The lancet, physic, and comparative starvation will afibrd the only means of cure and of prevention. One important part in the management of a flock is the sorting of the lambs, and also of the ewes, in order that those which are rejected for the purposes of breeding, or that are past service (in the case of old ewes), may be drafted out for sale. This is a business requiring much judgment, where a breeding stock is kept up,, lest the breed become degenerated and lose its once admired points of excellence. Unless he draft ofi' for fattening and sale all that exhibit the slightest points of inferiority, and dismiss as breeders ewes too aged or such as do not produce a first-rate progeny, he cannot expect to keep up the celebrity of his stock. In all flocks kept by the breeder numbers of lambs are below par, both male and female; and, while a sufBcient number of young ewes is retained, according to the views of the breeder, or the deficiencies in his stock, caused either by deaths, by age, or by bar- renness (these being all selected with care), the rest may be with propriety drafted off for fattening. His primary selection of young males will have been made previously, but these must be revised, and the points of every ewe lamb severely scru- tinized. The rejected ewes may at this time be spayed, if such is the practice on the breedmg farm ; but, whether this be done or not, the most advantageous mode of then- disposal has to be considered ; this, in every instance, will be deter- mined by circumstances of pasturage, locality, and private afl"airs. A writer in the Quarterly Review of Agriculture (vol. iii.) says : — " It is a safe practice to draft as largely as the good qualities of those that are to be transferred to the ewe stock will warrant. The ewes are drafted immediately after the milk has passed away in the weaning of the lambs. The sooner they are drafted after that the better, as the sooner the draft ewes (with caution) are put upon good pastm-age the sooner will they be ready for the butcher. Those ewes that have missed lamb, having been di-afted from the ewes in the lambing of April, and having enjoyed a good pasture all the summer, should be mixed again with the draft ewes and sold along with them." In flying stocks, that is stocks in which the ewes and lambs are sold off before the termination of the year, and a fresh stock re-purchased, for the sake of the annual profit on the purchase-money, breed is of little consequence ; nor, indeed, do our observations refer to such flocks — they cannot : we are speaking of the mode to be pursued by the 210 THE SHEKP. skilful breeder, who aims at establishing or main- taining the excellence of his peculiar stock, whether it be one of the varieties of the long-woolled or the short-woolled section, or whether it be a mingled breed of admirable qualities. One thing should never be overlooked, viz — the adaptation of the sheep for the nature, character, and peculiarities of the soil and its productions. A mistake on this point will inevitably result in failure. Tendency to foot-rot, unthriftiness, unhealthiness, infertility, may occur in a flock of the best bred sheep, of the most admirable qualities ; unless pasturage and treatment are quite suitable to their constitution. We almost doubt whether this point in the ma- nagement of sheep has been sufficiently studied. Certainly it is one of great importance, in what- ever aspect it be looked at. MEDICINES EMPLOYED IN THE TREAT- MENT OF SHEEP. The observations which we have made under this head in 'The Ox' (p. 177) are here also equally applicable. The moi'e simple medicines ought to be in the possession of the farmer for instant use, in cases of emergency; but the ad- ministi'ation of the more potent drags ought to be entrusted to the veterinary surgeon, by whom alone all important operations ought to he per- formed. Read's enema and stomach-pump adapted to sheep, should be in evely breeder's hands, and kept constantly ready for use. In the treatment of many of the diseases of sheep, the advantages of purgative or of sedative injections are too much overlooked. Aperient injections may consist of a handful of common salt, or an ounce or two ounces of Epsom salts, with a wine-glassful of linseed oil, mixed in a pint of water or thin gruel. Seda- tive injections, in cases of diarrhcea and dj'sentery, may consist of a pint of gruel or starch, with three or four grains of powdered opium, or fifty drops of laudanum. APERIENTS. In administering medicines to the sheep, the fluid should be allowed to trickle slowly and gently down the gullet or oesophagus, as we have already urged in the case of the ox, and for the same reasons — the structure of the stomach being in both animals on the same plan. To give medicine in a hurried manner, so as to force the animal to gulp it, is to defeat the very object intended ; it will force the pillars of the oesophagean canal, enter the insensible paunch or rumen, and there con- tinue inert. It may here be as well to observe that the doses of medicines for sheep in general are about one-sixth in quantity of what are usually given to cattle. Young lambs require only a third, or half the quantity of medicine constituting a dose for an adult sheep. The following medicines are the most valuable aperients : — COMMON SALT (CHLORIDE OF SODIUM OR MURIATE OF soda). Salt is a tonic in moderate doses, and of great benefit in the rot. It should always be accessible to the flock. In doses of one or two ounces, dissolved in four or six ounces of gruel, it forms an e.xcellent aperient. EPSOM SALTS (sulphate OF MAGNESIa). An excellent purgative, and that which is most commonly employed. Its dose ranges from half an ounce to two or three ounces. The repetition of small doses at intervals of six hours will keep up the action of the first full dose when desirable ; or sulphur may be employed for this purpose. SULPHUR. Sulphur, besides its value in cutaneous aff'ec- tions, is very useful as an aperient, especially for keeping up the action of the bowels after the operation of salts. Dose, from one to two ounces. Sulphur is the base of eveiy ointment for the cure of mange. ALOES. This drug is not only very uncertain in its operation in sheep, but has often proved fatal by inducing direct inflammation. It is invaluable as a horse medicine, but should never be adminis- tered to the sheep. LINSEED OIL. Linseed oil is occasionally used as a purgative; it is given in doses of two or three ounces. ALTERATIVES AND SPECIFIC MEDI- CINES. These are medicines which exert a peculiar influence on certain organs, altei'ing their diseased action, or stimulating their respective secretions. Some act more especially on the liver, others on the glandular system, and some on the skin ; while one exerts a peculiar action on the muscular fibres of the uterus. A knowledge of the eff"ects of these medicines has been gained by experience ; but we know nothing of their modus operandi. calomel (submuriate or protochloride of mercury). Calomel is seldom used in the treatment of the diseases of the sheep. In cases of rot, two or three grains of calomel mixed with a grain and a half of opium, have been found beneficial ; this dose may be repeated every day, or every other day, for several times, its effects being watched. — {See Rot). sulphate of mercury or j;thiops mineral. As an alterative medicine, useful in cutaneous THE SHEEP. 217 disorders, ^thioiis mineral has long enjoyed great reputation ; it is usually combined with nitre and sulphur, in the following proportions, for a daily dose : — jEtliiops mineral, 1 scruijle. Nitre, 2 scruples. Sidphur, 4 scruples. IODINE. Iodine is useful, both as an e.xternal application and as a medicine taken internally, in cases of glandular affections and indurated swellings of the udder. Its most convenient form is the iodide of potassium. An excellent ointment is composed of one part of the iodide, and seven of lard. Iodide of potassium is strongly recommended in consumption, when tubercles have formed on the lungs. The dose is two grains, gradually in- creased to four or six, given morning and evening, in a little gruel. EUGOT OF EYE. In cases of lingering parturition, when the powers of the uterus are exhausted, ergot of rye is very useful ; it exerts a peculiar action on that organ, and arouses its dormant energy. It should be employed with caution. The dose is a scruple or half a drachm, repeated at intervals of half an liour if necessary. An infusion of ergot of rye is used by lambers and shepherds, conjoined with a cordial composed of equal parts of brandy and spirits of nitre (sp. ather, nitricij. SEDATIVES AND FEBRIFUGE MEDI- CINES. These are medicines calculated to allay fever, and moderate the action of the arterial system. Among these nitre or nitrate of potass, tartar emetic, or tartrate of antimony, and the powder of digitalis, i.e. of the dried leaves of the foxglove, are chiefly in requisition. Opium, or tincture of opium (laudanum) are in a certain sense sedatives, indeed in some diseases their use in allaying irritation cannot be ovei--rated. But to this invaluable drug we shall have occasion to revert hereafter. NITEATE OF POTASS. Nitre is used as a febrifuge with good effect, but generally in touibination with other medicines. Its dose is from half a drachm to a drachm. TARTEATE OF ANTIMONY. The effects of this medicine in lowering the action of the heart and arterial system is very decided. Hence in many inflammatory diseases it is of great importance. It is given to the sheep in doses of five or six grains. DIC.ITALTS. The powdered leaves of the fo.\glove have been long esteemed for their decided effects upon the action of the heart. They not only reduce the force of the pulse, but often render it intermittent. Digitalis, in combination with nitre and tartar- emetic or tartrate of antimony, forms an efficient fever medicine in cases of high inflammation, as pleurisy and similar diseases. The following formula for sheep has been used with success : — Digitalis powder, 5 grains. Tartrate ol* antimony, 5 grains. Nitrate of potass, 5 drachm. Water, 3 or 4 ounces. Mix. To be given twice a-day. ANTISPASMODICS. The great antispasmodic, the great allayer of pain, and of irritation of the alimentary canal, whether in cases of diarrhoea or dysentery, is opium. OPIUM. The dose of this all-potent medicine (when judiciously administered) is two or three grains. Combined with oil it has been given in dysentery with the best effects. Mr. D. Sayer found in certain cases of dysentery the following perscrip- tion of great service : — Linseed oil, 2 ozs. Powdered opium, 2 gi'ains. Mix in an infusion of linseed. On the following day, he gave twice in the •24 hours this mixture : — Powdered opium, 2 grains. Powdered ginger, 1 gentian, | of each § dracbm. Mix in linseed tea. Afterwards this draught was repeated once a- day, with the addition of half an ounce of linseed oil. This was continued for four days, when the sheep recovered. In cordial and astringent medicines, opium is an essential ingredient, and it may also be com- bined with aperients. LAUDANUM, OE TINCTUEE OF OPIUM. Tincture of opium possesses the same proper- ties as the powder of opium, but is quicker in its effects. The dose for sheep is from twenty to sixty drops. TONICS. It is often necessary in cases of debility, v/hen acute disease has been subdued, to restore or invigorate the system by tonics. Of these gentian is the best, and indeed will supersede every other. Powdei-ed gentian root may be given as a tonic loses of from half a drachm to two drachms, in 218 THE SHEEP. combination with a scruple or half a drachm of powdered ginger in gruel or water, or in a little ale. CORDIALS. Cordials or stimulating drenches are not so often given to sheep as the horned cattle. The best of these cordials are ginger, caraway- seeds, essence of peppermint, and carbonate of ammonia. The dose of this root in powder is from a scruple to a drachm. It is generally mixed with aperient medicines, and aids their operation. BiTiised caraway-seeds are useful as a cordial, though inferior to ginger. Dose half a drachm or a drachm. OIL OR ESSENCE OF PEPPERMTMT. Peppermint water, that is water in which the oil of peppermint is diffused, is a good vehicle for tonic and astringent medicines. It is never given alone. CARBONATE (sDBGARBONATe) OF AMMONIA. In cases of repletion of the stomach by a mass of undigested curd (to which lambs are subject), carbonate of ammonia may prove very useful, both from its stimulating and its antacid properties. A drench composed of a scruple of carbonate of ammonia, two drachms of carbonate (sesqui-carbo- nate) of soda, half an ovmce of Epsom salts, and a scruple of ginger, in warm water, may be given every six hours. A solution of potash in lime-water is recom- manded in these cases ('Ox' p. 174). We liere give the directions for making and administering this solution. Take a lump of quick-lime of the size of an egg, and pour on it, in a convenient vessel, as much water as will slake it. This being done, then pour upon it one pint of boiling water ; stir the whole up, and cover close. While this is allowed to stand for some time, take an eight ounce bottle and put into it two ounces of sub- carbonate of potass ; and fill up the bottle with the lime-water already made ; pouring it oft' rather turbid than in a state of purity. Cork this up and label it — " Solution of potass in lime-water." Of this " Solution" a teaspoonful or two should be added to some wai-m water, together with half an ounce of salts and a scruple of ginger, and given every six hours, till good effects result. We can hardly call this a cordial medicine ; its effects, setting aside the Epsom salts, are chemical, and the same observation applies to chloride of lime given internally in cases of hoove. Its dose in the shop is about half a drachm. For its modus operandi see ' Ox,' p. 181. As a disinfectant and cleanser of foul ulcers, a solution of chloride of lime applied externally, and used freely as a wash, is invaluable. CHLORIDE OF LIME. For its properties see above. A solution of chloride of lime for washing infected sheep-cotes, ulcers, dtc, may be made with half an ounce of powder dissolved in a gallon of water. Taken internally in hoove, it acts chemically as a cordial by secondary effects. CARBONATE (sESQUI-CARBONATe) OF SODA. Carbonate of soda is an antacid, and useful as a component in cordial draughts, where the cor- rection of acidity in the stomach is desirable. Dose about a drachm. ASTRINGENTS. Astringents are medicines which act upon the mucous membrane of the alimentary canal, and check diarrhoea. They consist of lime, or chalk, opium, catechu, &c., and are always combined with cordials. Of lime, or rather chalk, little need be said ; it is given in doses of half a drachm or a drachm. Of opium we have already spoken. CATECHU. This is an extract from a tree of the acacia tribe, and is very valuable. Dose a scruple. The following is a useful astringent cordial for sheep and calves : — Prepared chalk, 1 oz. Powdered catechu, 5 oz. Powdered ginger, 2 drachms. Powdered opium, ^ drachm. Mucilage or gum- water, thick, 2 ozs. Peppermmt-water, 6 ozs. Mix. Dose, two table-spoonfuls twice a-day. ALUM. Alum is not often used in the treatment of sheep. Its dose is ten or twenty grains, according to age. The ' Sheep's Cordial ' renders it unnecessaiy. EXTERNAL APPLICATIONS. Setons are seldom used in the treatment of the diseases of the sheep ; and the wool prevents blisters from taking effect. With respect to chloride of lime, as we have noticed it under the head of cordials, we need not repeat our observa- tions relative to its value as a disinfectant and cleaner of foul sloughing foetid ulcers, when THE SHEEP. 219 properly diluted with water (half an ounce to the gallon). The following external applications require a brief notice : — POCLTICES. Those of linseed meal are the best ; it is often advantageous to mix with them a little chloride of lime, especially if they be applied to foul ulcera- tions. In accelerating suppui-atiou, a little tur- pentine is a useful addition. STIMULANTS. Turpentine, camphorated oil, and hartshorn, form a good embrocation, useful in strains and chronic rheumatism. To two ounces of cam- phorated oil may be added an ounce of turpentine, and half an ounce or even an ounce of hartshorn. OINTMENTS AND LOTIONS, &C. Mercurial Ointment, when rubbed down with five or seven parts of lard, forms a safe and almost certain cure for the scab. White Lead is often sprinkled over the part struck by the fly, in order to destroy the maggots burrowing in the skin. It is superseded by the spirit of tar, or by the coarsest kind of fish oil. Corrosive Sublimate. — A dangerous remedy, often employed in solution as a wash for scab. Washes, whether of a solution of arsenic, infusion of tobacco, or of helleboi'e, are equally objectionable. They are superseded by the diluted mercurial ointment. Spii-it of Tar. — A useful application in foot- rot, and very serviceable when freely applied to parts that have been struck by the fly; it not only kills the maggots, but prevents the attacks of the insects, which are repelled by its odour. Turpentine. — Useful as a stimulant in oint- ments and embrocations. It may be mixed with linseed-meal poultices, in order to hasten the sup- puration of sluggish tumours, and is a serviceable application to woimds of long standing which require a stimulus. DRESSINGS. Among the dressings for woimds, tincture of aloes, tincture of myrrh, and tincture of benzoin, or Friar's Balsam, ai'e chiefly in request. For farther observations on these, we refer to ' The Ox,' p. 183. Tar mixed with lard is a useful dressing in foot rot. At the head of caustics stands nitrate of silver, or lunar caustic. It is to the free use of this that the veterinary surgeon will trust in probing the wounds of cattle caused by the bite of a rabid dog. It is very useful in removing warts and cutaneous excrescences. Other caustics, however, are in requisition. In cases of foot-rot, hydi'ochloric acid, or a solution of bichloride of mercury, is recommended by Mr. Read, as an application to the part infected (see foot-rot). Butyr of antimony, or chloride of antimony, is a veiy useful and convenient caustic. It has been employed in foot-rot, and acts well where a super- ficial effect only is required. It does not produce any deep corrosion ; hence in indolent ulcers, in foot- rot, and in the removal of fungous excrescences, it is of important service. Verdigris, or acetate of copper, mixed with sugar of lead, finely powdered, sprinkled on slug gish ulcers, sometimes acts with good effect. Blue vitriol, or sulphate of copper, finely pow- dered, is frequently employed as an escharotic, in order to produce superficial slougliing. A satu- rated solution is recommended by some veteri- narians as an application of great benefit in cases of foot-rot. FOMENTATIONS. The great benefit resulting from fomentations results from the warmth of the water. In cases of inflammation of the udder or garget, fomentations are indispensable. Many have an idea that the good effects of fomenting depend on the herbs which, as is generally the case, are boiled in the water ; but this is an erroi'. Poppy-heads or a little laudanum in the water may be advantageous, from the known properties of opium in allaying pain. Slight fomenting is useless — it should be long kept up, but this is seldom done, for it requires no small degree of quiet patience. PLAISTEES, OR CH.AEGES. Plaisters, or charges, are in frequent demand. They are useful in cases of sprain or local debility, or as a covering and protection to sores or wounds, or the basal part of fractured horns. They form a good defence in cases of travel-worn feet, and in various ways are serviceable. They consist of a mixture of pitch, wax, resin, lard, &c., in different proportions, thickly spread upon coarse cloth or leather. Tar, spread upon cloth, forms an excel- lent plaister, especially where the main object is to exclude the air. Their application requires some little dexterity of manipulation. Tar is a useful dressing in foot-rot when the healing process has commenced. A plaister composed of a pound of pitch and two drachms of bees' wax, melted together, and spread while warm on soft leather or linen cloth, is applied with much advantage to the heads of sheep which are sore from the ravages of the maggots of the fly. Some, as a precautionaiy 220 THE SHEEP. measure, smear the bead in May with this com- position, and scatter a little wool over it ; others sew the plaister round the head. jMEARTNG. The practice of salving or anointing the skin of the sheep, after shearing, with some unctuous preparation is not universal. It is however the ordinaiy custom in Scotland, and is indeed essential to the health and comfort of sheep exposed to \ bleak winds in open mountain districts, to heavy j mists, and drenching and long-continued rains. ; The primary object of smearing is the protec- '. tion of the skin from the \vet and cold ; and next, to j promote the growth of the wool and improve its chai'acter. Besides these objects there are others BOt unimportant — the prevention of the attacks of insects, the destruction of such as might adhere to the skin, and the healthy action of the skin or the removal of cutaneous affections, for which tar is very efficient. Tar, mixed with butter, in order to counteract its tenacity, is the ordinaiy salving material ; and vast quantities of damaged butter are yearly sent to the grazing districts of Scotland for the use of the sheep-farmers. One serious disadvantage, however, attends the appli- cation of tar — it indelibly stains the wool ; hence it cannot be used for white goods, and what is more it will not take the finer and more brilliant dj-es. Wool thus tar-stained is termed laid wool, and sells at a lower ratio than ichite or unsahed wool. Yet in exposed situations the necessity of salving is felt, and various unguents have been tried. Instead of butter, whale oil, as an adjunct to tar, has been used, and is recommended by the Hon. W. J. Napier in his Treatise on Practical Store-farming; but the tinge of the tar is not obviated by this admixture. Mr. Hogg says, " Of late several compositions have been purposely and extensively tried, in which the spirit of tar has been substituted for tar itself. This has, in some cases, been complained of as too irritating ; and there is no doubt that a too free use of spirit of tar is injurious and even fatal. Some of the salves, while they prove to be perfectly well adapted to flocks that are clean, have been found ineffectual either in curing or warding off the scab, a disease which the common salve made of tar and grease seems effectually to resist. When a flock is per- fectly clean, olive oil has been found to be the best substance for softening the fleece, and warding off rain and snow. For clean sheep 'Taylor's Salve' is also suitable, though some English staplers have condemned it. If a tar-salve were made, so as to be free from the impurities of the tar, it might probably answer every purpose. The ordinary proportion of one cwt. of grease to a barrel of tar, might be increased to one and a half cwt. ; and when melted together, the impurities of the tar might be suffered to subside and be separated. In this way the tBr might not leave a stain upon the wool when scoured. Olive oil seems to impregnate the wool, or to adhere to it more firmly than any other kind of greasy matter ; and it has been success- fully employed by Mr. Sellar, of Morvich, a first- rate store-farmer in Sutherland." Mr. Hogg recommends the following unguent to be rubbed over every part of the animal, after shearing, with a currying brash : — Train or seal oil, 4 gallons, Imp. meas. Tar, 5 gallon, Imp. meas. Oil or Tiu'peutine, 1 pint. Mix. Mr. John Gi-aham, of Newbigging, perceiving the disadvantage of tar, as a wool-stainer and yet desirous of smearing his sheep, used the following preparation in which the tar was omitted, yellow resin being used in its stead : — Butter, 18 lbs. Hogs lard, 18 lbs. Kesin, 121bs. Gallipoli oil, 1 gallon. Mix. This quantity he found suSicient for fifty or fifty- five sheep ; and the cost of smearing each sheep was about iUl. He found this wool when washed equally valuable with the ivhite wool; and it sold for a considerably higher price than the laid or tarred wool. The importance of smearing or salving is undeniable. The use of a small quantity of some oleaginous or greasy application immediately after shearing is now generally acknowledged. " The protection whit'h it affords to the almost denuded skin — its substitution for the natural yolk, which is not in its full quantity immediately secreted — and the softness which it will impart to the wool — are circumstances well deserving attention." Here we close cur history of the Sheep, its British varieties, and general management. [CONCLDSIOX OF THE SHEEP. J THE DOG. BY WILLIAM YOUATT. THE DOG. CHAPTER I. THE EARLY HISTORY AND ZOOLOGICAL CLASSIFICATION OF THE DOG. The Dog, next to the human being, ranks highest in the scale of intelligence, and was evidently designed to be the companion and the friend of man. We exact the services of other animals, and, the task being performed, we dismiss them to their accustomed food and rest ; but several of the varieties of the dog follow us to our home ; they are connected with many of our pleasures and wants, and guard our sleeping hours. The first animal of the domestication of which we have any account was the sheep. " Abel was a keeper of sheep."* It is difficult to believe that any long time would pass before the dog — who now in every country of the world is the companion of the shepherd, and the director or guardian of the sheep — would be enlisted in the service of man. From the earliest known history, he was the protector of the habitation of the human being. At the feet of the lares, those household deities who were supposed to protect the abodes of men, the figure of a barking dog was often placed. In every age, and almost in every part of the globe, he has played a principal part in the labours, the dangers, and the pleasures of the chace. In process of time man began to surround himself with many servants from among the lower animals, but among them all he had only one friend — the dug ; one animal only whose service was voluntary, and who was susceptible of disinterested affection and gratitude. In every country, and in every time, there has existed between man and the dog a connexion different from that which is observed between him and any other animal. The ox and the sheep submit to our controul, but their alTections are principally, if not solely, confined to themselves. They submit to us, but they can rarely be said to love, or even to recognise us, except as connected with the supply of their wants. The horse will share some of our pleasures. He enjoys the chace as much as does his rider ; and, when contending for victoiy on the course, he feels the full influence of emulation. Rememberhig the pleasure he has experienced with his master, or the daily supply of food from the hand of the groom, he often exhibits evident tokens of recog- nition ; but that is founded on a selfish principle — he neighs that he may be fed, and his affections are easily transferred. The dog is the only animal that is capable of disinterested affection. He is the only one that regards the human being as his companion, and follows him as his friend ; the only one that seems to possess a natural desire to be useful to him, or from a spontaneous impulse attaches himself to man. We take the bridle from the mouth of the horse, and turn him free into the pasture, and he testifies his joy in his partially-recovered liberty. We exact from the dog the service that is required of him, and he still follows us. He solicits to be continued as our companion and our friend. Many an expressive action tells us how much he is pleased and thankful. He shares in our abundance, and he is content with the scantiest and most humble fare. He loves us while living, and has been known to pine away on the grave of his master. As an animal of draught the dog is highly useful in some countries. What would become of the inhabitants of the northern regions, if the dog were not harnessed to the sledge, and the Lap- lander, and the Greenlander, and the Kamtchatkan drawn, and not unfrequently at the rate of nearly a hundred miles a-day, over the snowy wastes ? In Newfoundland, the timber, one of the most impor- tant articles of commerce, is drawn to the water- side by the docile but ill-used dog : and we need only to cross the British Channel in order to see how useful, and, generally speaking, how happy a beast of draught the dog can be. Though in our country, and to its gi'eat dis- grace, this employment of the dog has been accompanied by such wanton and shameful cruelty, that the legislatiire — somewhat hastily confounding the abuse of a thing with its legitimate purpose — forbade the appearance of the dog-cart in the metropolitan districts, and were inclined to extend this prohibition through the whole kingdom, it is much to be desired that a kindlier and better feeling may gradually prevail, and that this animal, humanely treated, may return to the discharge of the services of which nature has rendered him capable, and wliich prove the greatest source of hap- 222' piness to him while discharging them to the best of his power. In another and very important particular, as the presen'er of human life, the history of the dog will be most interesting. The writer of this work has seen a Newfoundland dog who, on five distinct occasions, preserved the life of a human being; and it is said of the noble quadruped whose remains constitute one of the most interesting specimens in the museum of Beme, that forty persons were rescued by him from impending destruction. When this friend and servant of man dies, he does not or may not cease to be useful ; for in many countries, and to a far greater extent than is generally imagined, his skin is useful for gloves, or leggings, or mats, or hammer-cloths ; and, while even the Eonians occasionally fattened him for the table, and esteemed his flesh a dainty, many thousands of people in Asia, Africa, and America, now breed him expressly for food. If the publication of the present work should throw some additional light on the good qualities of this noble animal : if it should enable us to derive more advantage from the services that he can render — to train him more expeditiously and fully for the discharge of those services — to protect him from the abuses to which he is exposed, and to mitigate or remove some of the diseases which his connexion with man has entailed upon him ; if any of these purposes be accomplished, we shall derive considerable " useful knowledge," as well as pleasure, from the perusal of the present volume. Some controversy has arisen with regard to the origin of the dog. Professor Thomas Bell, to whom we are indebted for a truly valuable history of the British quadrupeds, traces him to the wolf. He says, and it is perfectly true, that the osteology of the wolf does not differ materially from that of the dog more than that of the different kinds of dogs differs ; that the cranium is similar, and they agree in nearly all the other essential points ; that the dog and wolf will readily breed with each other, and that their progeny, thus obtained, will again mingle with the dog. There is one circum- stance, however, which seems to mark a decided difference between the two animals : the eye of the dog, of every country and species, has a circular pupil, but the position or foi-m of the pupil is oblique in the wolf. Professor Bell gives an inge- nious but not admissible reason for this. He attributes the forward direction of the eyes in the dog to the constant habit " for many successive gene- rations, of looking towards their master, and obeying his voice ;" but no habit of this kind could by possi- bility produce any such effect. It should also be remembered that, in every part of the globe in which the wolf is found, this form of the pupil. and a peculiar setting-on of the curve of the tail, and a singularity in the voice, cannot fail of being observed, to which may be added, that the dog exists in every latitude and in eveiy climate, while the habitation of the wolf is coulined to certain parts of the globe. There is also a marked difference in the temper and habits of the two. The dog is, generally speaking, easily manageable ; but nothing will, in the majority of cases, render the wolf moderately tractable. There are, however, exceptions to this. The author remembers a bitch wolf at the Zoolo- gical Gardens that woitkl always come to the front bars of her den to be caressed as soon as any one that she knew approached. She had puppies while there, and she brought her little ones in her mouth to be noticed by the spectators ; so eager, indeed, was she that they should share with her in the notice of her friends, that she killed them all in succession against the bars of her den as she brought them forcibly forward to be fondled. M. F. Cuvier gives an account of a young wolf who followed his master eveiywhere, and showed a degree of affection and submission scarcely inferior to the domesticated dog. His master being unavoidably absent, he was sent to the menagerie, where he pined for his loss, and would scarcely take any food for a considerable time. At length, however, he attached himself to his keepers, and appeared to have forgotten his former associate. At the expiration of eighteen months his master returned ; and, the moment his voice was heard, the wolf recognised him, and lavished on his old friend the most affectionate caresses. . A second separation followed, which lasted three years, and again the long-remembered voice was recognised, and replied to with impatient cries; after which, rushing on his master, he licked his face with every marlv of joy, menacing his keepers, towards whom he had just before been exhibiting fondness. A third separation occurred, and he became gloomy and melancholy. He suffered the caresses of none but his keepers, and towards them he often manifested the original ferocity of his species. These stories, however, go only a little way to prove that the dog and the wolf have one common origin. It may appear singular that in both the Old Testament and the New the dog was spoken of almost with abhorrence. He ranked among the unclean beasts. The traffic in him and the price of him were considered as an abomination, and were forbidden to be offered in the sanctuary in the discharge of any vow.* One grand object in the institution of the Jewish ritual was to preserve the Israelites from THE DOG. a23 the idolatry which at that time prevailed among every other people. Dogs were held in considerable veneration by the Egyptians, from whose tyranny the Israelites had just escaped. -b igures of them appeared on the friezes of most of the temples,* and they were regarded as emblems of the Divine Being. Herodotus, speak- ing of the sanctity in which some animals were held by the Egyptians, says that the people of every family in which a dog died, shaved them- selves—their expression of mourning— and he adds, that " this was a custom e.xisting in his own time."! The cause of this attachment to and veneration for the dog is, however, explained in a far more probable and pleasing way than many of the fables of ancient mythology. The prosperity of Lower Egypt, and almost the very subsistence of its inha- bitants, depended on the annual overflowincr of the Nile ; and they looked for it with the \itmost anxiety. Its approach was announced by the appearance of a certain star— Sirius. As soon as that star was seen above the horizon, they hastened to remove their flocks to the higher ground, and abandoned the lower pastures to the fertilizin<. influence of the stream. Thev hailed it as their guard and protector; and, associating with its appa- rent watchfulness the well-known fidelity of the dog, they called it the "dog-star," and they wor- shipped it. It was in far later periods, and in other countries, that the appearance of the doo- star was regarded as the signal of insufferable heat or prevalent disease. One of the Egyptian deities — Anubis — is described as having the form and body of a man but with a dog s head. These were types of sao-acity and fidelity. ° •' In Ethiopia, not only was great veneration paid to the dog, but the inhabitants used to elect a dog as their king. He was kept in great state, and surrounded by a numerous train of officers and guards. When he fawned upon them, he was supposed to be pleased with their proceedings • when he growled, he disapproved of the manner°in which their government was conducted. These indications of his will were implicitly obeyed, or rather, perhaps, were translated by his worshippers as their own caprice or interest dictated. Even a thousand years after this period the dog was highly esteemed in Egypt for its sagacity and other excellent qualities: for when Pvthagoras after his return from Egypt, founded a new sect in (ji-eece, and at Croton, in Southern Italy he taught, with the Egyptian philosophers, that, at the death of the body, the soul entered into that of the oWfTZ- ^ T '^'T'"^ ^l-^"*" of the frieze-work of the old Egyptian temples, ihe dog appears, with his long ears and broad muzzle, not unlike the old Talbot hound + Herodotus, lib. ii., c. 66. different animals. He used, after the decease of any of his liivourite disciples, to cause a dog to bo held to the mouth of the dying man, in order to receive his departing spirit ; saying that there was no animal that could perpetuate his virtues better than that quadruped. It was in order to preserve the Israelites Irom errors and follies like these, and to prevent the possibility of this species of idolatry beina established, that the dog was afterwards regarded with utter abhorrence among the Jews.: This feeling prevailed during the continuance of the Israelites in Palestine. Even in the New Testa- ment the Apostle warns those to whom he wrote to "beware of dogs and evil-workers ;"§ and it is said in The Revelations that " without are dogs and sorcerers," &c. \\ Dogs were, however, em- ployed even by the Jews. Job says, " Now they that are younger than I have me in derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to have set with the dogs of my flock." ir Dogs were employed either to guide the sheep or to protect them "from wild beasts ; and some prowled about the streets at night, contending with each other for the offal that was t]iro\vn away. To a certain degree this dislike of the doer continues to the present day; for, with few exceptions, the dog is seldom the chosen com- panion of the Jew, or even the inmate of his house. Nor was it originally confined to Palestine Wherever a knowledge of the Jewish religion spread, or any of its traditions were believed, there arose an abhorrence of the dog. The Mohammedans have always regarded him as an unclean animal, that should never be cherished in any human habitation — belonging to no particular owner, but protecting the street** and the district rather than the house of a master. The Hindoos regard him likewise as unclean, and submit to various purifications if they acci- dently come in contact with him, believing that every dog was animated by a wicked and malfgnant spirit condemned to do penance in that form for crimes committed in a previous state of existence. If by chance a dog passed between a teacher and his pupil during the period of instruction, it was supposed that the best lesson would be completely poisoned, and it was deemed pradent to suspend the tuition for at least a day and a night. Even "^ Egypt dogs are now as much avoided as they were venerated. In every Mohammedan and Hindoo country the most scurrilous epithet ■ No dog was suffered to come within the precincts of the temple jrusalem. E|a> KuvfS was a prevalent expression among the Jews. Brvanls Mylhology, vol. ii.,p. 42. Rev IT ,T<, . 15. See also Isaiah hi. 10, 11. 0 3 824 bestowed on a European or a Christian is — "a dog ! '■* Tliis accounts for the singular fact that in the wliole of the Jewish history there is not a single allusion to hunting with dogs. Mention is made of nets and snares, but the dog seems to have been never used in the pursuit of game. In the early periods of the history of other countries this seems to have been the case even ■where the dog was esteemed and valued, and had become the companion, the friend, and the defender of man and his home. So late as the second century of the Christian era, the fair hunting of the present day needed the eloquent defence of Arrian, who says that " there is as much difference betw-een a fair trial of speed in a good run, and ensnaring a poor animal without an effort, as I'etween the secret piratical assaults of robbers at sea, and the victorious naval engagements of the Athenians at Artemisium and at Salamis."-!- The first hint of the employment of the dog in the pursuit of other animals is given by Oppian in his Cynegeticus. who attributes it to Pollux, about •200 years after the promulgation of the Levitical law. Of the precise species of dog that prevailed or was cultivated in Greece at this early period little can with certainty be affirmed. One beautiful piece of sculptui'e has been preserved, and is now in the possession of Lord Feversham at Buncombe Hall. It is said to represent the favourite dog of Alcibiades, and to have been the production of Myson, one of the most skilful artists of ancient times. It differs but little from the Newfoundland dog of the present day. He is represented as sitting on his haunches, and earnestly looking at his master. Any one would vouch for the sagacity and fidelity of that animal. The British Museum contains group of greyhound puppies of more recent date, fi'om the ruins of the villa of Antonius, near Rome. One is fondling the other, and the attitude of both, and the characteristic puppy-clumsiness of their limbs, which indicate, nevertheless, the beautiful propor- • Cai-penter's Scripture Natural History, p. 109. It is a remarkable fact that Irom this faillilul animal, the companion of man, and the gnaidian of his person and propel ly, should originate so many terms of rt-proach, as " dog," " cur, ' " hound," " puppy," " dog-ciieap," " a dog's trick," " dog-sick," " dog-weary," " to lead the life of a dog," " to use like a dog." All this probably originated in the East, where the dog was held in abhorrence as the common scavenger of the streets. ^ t Arrian's Cynegeticus, cap. 26. tions that will soon be developed, are an admirable specimen of ancient art The Greeks in the earlier periods of their history depended too much on their nets ; and it was not until later times that they pursued their prey with dogs, and then not wiih dogs that ran by sight, or succeeded by their swiftness of foot, but by beagles very little superior to those of modern days.:[ Of the stronger and more ferocious do,p;s there is, however, occasional mention. The } New Sporting Magazine, vol. liv. p. 97. 22o bull-dog of modern date does not excel the one (pos- sibly of nearly the same rare) that was presented to Alexander the Great, and tliat boldly seized a ferocious lion, or another that would not quit his hold, although one leg and then another was cut off. It would be difficult and foreign to the object of this work fully to trace the early history of the dog. Both in Greece and in Rome he was highly estimated. Alexander built a city in honour of a dog ; and the Emperor Hadrian decreed the most solemn rites of sepulture to another, on account of his sagacity and fidelity. The translator of Arrian imagines that the use of the pugnaces (fighting) and the sagaces (intelli- gent!— the more ferocious dogs, and those who artfully circumvented and caught their prey — was know^l in the earlier periods of Greek and Roman history, but that the celeres, the dogs of speed, the greyhounds of every kind, were peculiar to the British islands, or to the western and northern continents of Europe, the interior and the produce of which were in those days unknown to the Greeks and Romans. By most authors who have inquired into the origin of these varieties of the dog, the sagaces have been generally assigned to Greece — the jmgnaces to Asia — and the celeres to the Celtic nations. Of the aboriginal country of the latter there can be little doubt : but the accounts that are given of the English mastiff" at the invasion of Britain by the Romans, and the early history of the English hound, which was once peculiar to this country, and at the present day degenerates in every other, would go far to prove that these breeds also are indigenous to our island. Oppian thus describes the hunting dog as he finds him in Britain : — " There is, besides, an excellent kind of scenting dogs, though small, yet worthy of estimation. They are fed by the fierce nation of painted Britons, who call them agasai. In size they resemble worthless greedy house-dogs that gape under tables. They are crooked, lean, coarse- haired, and heavy-eyed, but armed with powerful claws and deadly teeth. The agasaus is of good nose, and most excellent in following scent."* Among the savage dogs of ancient times were the Hyrcanian, said, on account of their extreme ferocity, to have been crossed with the tiger — the Locrian, chiefly employed in hunting the boar — the Pannonian, used in war as well as in the chace, and by whom the first charge on the enemy was always made — and the Mnlossian, of Epiius, likewise trained to war, as well as to the honours of the amphitheatre, and the dangers of the chace. This last breed had one redeeming quality— an ' Oppian's Cynegeticus, lib i. v. 4ftS — 480. inviolable attachment to their owners. This attachment was reciprocal ; for it is said that the Molossi used to weep over their faithful quadruped companions slain in war. jElian relates that one of them, and his owner, so much distinguished themselves at the battle of Marathon, that the effigy of the dog was placed on the same tablet with that of his master. Soon after Britain was discovered the pugnaces of Epii'us were pitted against those of our island, and, according to the testimony of Gratius. com- pletely beaten. A variety of this class, but as large and .-is ferocious, was employed to guard the sheep and cattle, or to watch at the door of the house, or to follow the owner on any excursion of business or of pleasure. Gratius says of these dogs, that they have no pretensions to the deceitful commendation of form ; but, at the time of need, when courage is required of them, most excellent mastiffs are not to be preferred to them. The account of the QY\tis,\\ pugnaces of former times, and also of the sagaces and celeres, will he best given when treating of their present state and comparative value. In describing the diff'erent breeds of dogs, some anecdotes will be related of their sagacity and fidelity; a few previous remarks, however, may be admissible. A young man lost his life by falling from one of the precipices of the Helvellyn mountains. Three months afterwards his remains were dis- covered at the bottom of a ravine, and his faithful dog, almost a skeleton, still guarding them. Sir Walter Scott beautii'ully describes the scene : — " Darlt-Kreen was the spot, 'mid the brown mountain heather Where the pilfjTim of nature lay stretched in decay ; Like tlie corpse of an outcast, abandoned to weather, Till the mciuniain winds wasted the tenaniless clay; Nor yet quite deserted, though lonely extended. For, faithtui in death, his mute favourite atiended, The much loved remains other master defended, And chased the hill-fox and the raven away. How Ions didst thou think that his silence was slumber ? When the wind waved his garments how oft didst thou start? How many long days and long weeks didst thou number Ere he faded before thee, the Iriend of thy heart?" Burchell, in his Travels in Africa, places the connexion between man and the dog, and the good qualities of this animal, in an interesting point of view. A pack of dogs of various descrip- tions formed a necessary part of his caravan, occasionally to provide him with food, but oftener to defend him from wild beasts or robbers. "While almost every other quadruped fears man as his most formidable enemy," says this inte- resting traveller, "there is one who regards him as his companion, and follows him as his friend, We must not mistake the nature of the case. It is not because we train him to our use, and have made choice of him in preference to other animals, but because this particular species of animal feels a natural desire to be useful to man, and, from 2-^V, spontaneous impulse, attaches himself to him. Were it not so, we should see in various countries an equal familiarity -with other quadrupeds, according to their hahits, and the taste or caprices of different nations ; hut everj'where it is the dog only that takes delight in associating with us, and in sharing our abode. It is he who knows us personally, watches over us, and warns us of danger. It is impossible for the naturalist not to feel a conviction that this friendship between creatures so different from each other must be the result of the laws of nature ; nor can the humane and feeling mind avoid the belief that kindness to those animals, from which he derives continued and essential assistance, is part of the moral duty of man. " Often in the silence of the night, when all my people have been fast asleep around the fire, have I stood to contemplate these faithful animals watching by their side, and have learned to esteem them for their social inclination towards mankind. When, wandering over pathless deserts, oppressed with vexation and distress at the conduct of my own men, 1 have turned to these as my only friends, and felt how much inferior to them was man, when actuated only by selfish views." Of the stanchness and incorruptible fidelty of the dog, and his disregard of personal incon- venience and want, when employed in our service, it is impossible to entertain a doubt. We have sometimes thought that the attachment of the dog to its master was increased, or at least the exhibi- tion of it, by the penury of the owner. At all events one fact is plain enough, that, while poverty drives away from us many a companion of our happier hours, it was never known to diminish the love of our quadruped friend. The early histoiy of the dog has been described, and the abomination in which he was held by the Israelites. At no great distance of time, however, we find him, almost in the neighbourhood of Pales- tine, in one of the islands of the Ionian Sea, the companion and the friend of princes, and deserving their regard. The reader will forgive a somewhat abbreviated account of the last meeting of Ulysses and his dog. Twenty years had passed since Argus, the favourite dog of Ulysses, had been i)arted from his master. The monarch at length wended his way homewards, and, disguised as a beggar, for his life would have been sacrificed had he been known, stood at the entrance of his palace-door. There he met with an old dependent, who had formerly served him with fidelity and who was yet faithful to his memory ; but age, and hardship, and care, and the disguise which he now wore, had so altered the wanderer that the good Euraseus had not the most distant suspicion with whom he was con- versing; but^ — iNear to the gates, conferring as they drew, Argus the dog his iincient niasier knew. And, not unconscious of the voice and tread. Lifts to the sound his ears, and rears his head. He knew his Lord, he knew, and strove to meet ; In vain he strove lo crawl and kiss his feet: Yet, all he could, his tail, his ears, his eyes Salute his master, and confess his joys."* In Daniel's Rural Sports, the account of a nobleman and his dog is given. The nobleman had lieeu absent two years on foreign service. On his return this faithful creature was the first to recognise him, as he came through the court-yard, and he flew to welcome his old master and friend. He sprung upon him ; his agitation and his joy knew not any bounds ; and at length, in tlie fulness of his transport, he fell at his master's feet and expired. We will not further pursue this part of our subject at present. We shall have other oppor- 1 tunities of speaking of the disinterested and devoted affection which this noble animal is j capable of displaying when he occupies his proper 1 situation, and discharges those offices for which nature designed him. It may, however, be added that this power of tracing back the dog to the very ; earliest periods of history, and the fact that he j then seemed to be as sagacious, as faithful, and as I valuable as at the present day, strongly favour the j opinion that he descended from no inferior and comparatively worthless animal ; that he was not i the progeny of the wolf, the jackal, or the fox, but I he was originally created, somewhat as we now find him, the associate and the friend of man. If, within the first thousand years after the Deluge, we observe that divine honours were paid to him, we can scarcely be brought to believe his w-olfish genealogy. The most savage animals are capable of affection for those to whom they have been accustomed, and by whom they have been well treated, and therefore we give full credit to several accounts of this sort related of the wolf, the lion, and even the cat and the reptile ; but in no other animal — in no other, even in the genus Canis — do we find the qualities of the domestic dog, or the slightest approach to them. " To his master he flies with alacrity," says the eloquent Buffon, " and submissively lays at his feet all his courage, strength, and talent. A glance of the eye is sufficient : for he understands the smallest indi- cations of his will. He has all the ardour of friendship and fidelity and constancy in his affec- tions, which man can have. Neither interest nor desire of revenge can corrupt him ; and he has no fear but that of displeasing. He is all zeal and obedience. He speedily forgets ill-usage, or only recollects it to make returning attachment the stronger. He licks the hand which causes him pain, and subdues his anger by submission. The training of the dog seems to have been the first art • Pope's Odyssey, xvii. 227 invented by man, ami the fruit of that art was the conquest and peaceable possession of the earth." " Man," says Burns, " is the God of the dog ; he Ivnows no otlier; and see how he worships him. With what reverence he crouches at his feet — with what reverence he looks up to him — with what delight he fawns upon liim, and with what cheerful alacrity he obeys him!" If any of the lower animals bear about them the impress of the Divine liand, it is fouml in the dog : many others are plainly and decidedly more or less connected with tlie welfare of the human being ; but this connection and its etfects are limited to a few points, or often to one alone. The dog, different, yet the same, in every region, seems to be formed expressly to administer to our com- forts and to our pleasure. He displays a versati- lity, and yet a perfect unity of power and character, which mark him as our destined servant, and, still more, as our companion and friend. Other animals may be brought to a certain degree of familiarity, and may display muuli affection and gratitude. There was scarcely an animal in the menagerie of the Zoological Society that did not acknowledge the superintendent as his friend ; but it was only a casual intercourse, and miglit be dissolved by a word or look. At the hour of feeding the brute principle reigned supreme, and the companion of other hours would be sacrificed if he dared to inter- fere ; but the connection between man and the dog no lapse of time, no change of circumstances, no infliction of evil can dissolve. We must, therefore, look far beyond the wolf for the prototype of the dog. Cuvier eloquently states that the dog exhibits the most complete and the most useful conquest that man has made. Each individual is entirely devoted to his master, adopts his manners, dis- tinguishes and defends his property, and remains attached to him even unto death ; and all this springing not from mere necessity or from con- straint, but simply from gratitude and true friend- ship. The swiftness, the strength, and the highly developed power of smelling of tlie dog, have made him a powerful ally of man against the other animals ; and, perhaps, these qualities in the dog were necessary to the establishment of society. It is the only animal that has followed the human being all over the earth. There is occasionally a friendship existing be- tween dogs resembling that which is found in the human being. The author pledges himself as to the accuracy of the following little anecdote. Two dogs, the property of a gentleman at Shrewsbury, had been companions for many years, until one of them died of old age. The survivor immediately began to manifest an extraordinary degree of rest- less anxiety, searching for his old associate in all his former haunts, and refusing every kind of food. He gradually wasted away, and, at the expiration of the tenth day, he died, the victim of an attach- ment that would have done honour to man. The Dog belongs to the division of animals termed Vertebuateu (see vol. i., p. 262), because it has a cranium or skull, and a spine or range of ver- tebra proceeding from it. It ranks under the class Mammali.\, because it has teats, by which the female suckles her young ; the tribe Unguiculata, because its extremities are armed with nails ; the order Digitigrades, because it walks principally on its toes. The r/enus Canis has two tubercular teeth behind the large carnivorous tooth in the upper jaw ; and the siib-fjenus familiaris, the Dog, has the pupils of the eye circular, while those of the wolf are oblique, and those of the fox upright and long. There has been some dispute whether the various species of dogs are of different origin, or sprang from one common source. When we con- sider the change that climate and breeding effect in the same spacies of dog, and contrast the rough Irish or Highland greyhound with the smoother one of the southern parts of Britain, or the more delicate one of Greece, or the diminutive but beautifully formed one of Italy, or the hairless one of Africa or Brazil — or the small Blenheim spani"! with the magnificent Newfoundland ; if also we observe many of them varied by accident, and that accidental variety diligently cultivated into a new species, altogether different in form or use, we shall find no difficulty in believing that they might be derived from one common origin. One of the most striking proofs of the influence of climate on the form and character of this ani- mal, occurs in the bull-dog. When transported to India he becomes, in a few years, greatly altered in form, loses all his former courage and ferocity, and becomes a perfect coward. It is probable that all dogs sprung from one common source, but climate, food, and cross- breeding caused variations of form, which suggested particular uses ; and these being either designedly or accidentally perpetuated, the various breeds of dogs thus arose, and they have become numerous in proportion to the progress of civilization. Among the ruder or savage tribes they possess but one form ; but the ingenuity of man lias de- vised many inventions to increase his comforts : he has varied and multiplied the characters and kinds of domestic animals for the same purpose, and hence the various breeds of horses, and cattle, and dogs. The parent stock it is now impossible to trace; but the wild dog, wherever found on the continent of Asia or Northern Europe, has nearly the same character, and bears no inconsiderable resemblance to the British fox-dog, while many of those from the Southern Ocean can scarcely be distinguished from the English lurcher. There is, however, no more difHculty in this respect with i-egard to the dog than any other of our domesticated animals. Climate, or chance, produced a change in certain individuals, and the sagacity of man, or perhaps mere chance, founded on these accidental varieties numerous breeds possessed of certain distinct characteristic properties. The degeneracy of the dog, also, in different countries, cannot for a moment be disputed. The most natural arrangement of all the varie- ties of the dog is according to the development of the frontal sinus and the cerebral cavity, or, in other words, the power of scent, and the degree of intel- ligence. This classification originated with M. F. Cuvier, and has been adopted by most naturalists. He reckoned three divisions of the dog : — I. Those having the head more or less elon- gated, and the parietal bones of the skull widest at the base and gradually approaching towards each other as they ascend, the condyls of the lower jaw being on the same line with the upper molar teeth. The Greyhound and all its varieties belong to this class. II. The head moderately elongated, and the parietals diverging from each other for a certain space as they rise upon the side of the head, enlarging the cerebral cavity and the frontal sinus. To this class belong our most valuable dogs — the Spaniel, Setter, Pointer, Hound, and the Sheepdog. III. The muzzle more or less shortened, the frontal sinus enlarged, and the cranium elevated, and diminished in capacity. To this class belong some of the Terriers, and a great many dogs that might very well be spared. This division of the different species of the dog is adopted here as being the most simple, intel- ligible, and satisfactoiy. CHAPTER II. THE VARIETIES OF THE DOG. THIBET DOG. FIRST DIVISION. I to each other as they ascend, and the condyls of the The head more or less elongated, the jJarietal lower jaw being on the same line uith the upper hones widest at the base, and gradually approaching I violar teeth. the To this division belong the greater number of WILD DOGS. The wild dog, as existing in considerable num- bers or communities, seems to be nearly extirpated in the southern parts of Europe ; but there are several cases on record of dogs, having assumed the character of the wild race from which they had descended, abandoning their state of domesti- cation, and re-asserting their native independence. A black greyhound bitch, belonging to a gentleman in Scarisbrick, in Lancashire, thougli she had apparently been well broken in, and always well used, ran away from the habitation of her master, and betook herself to the woods. She killed a great number of hares, and made free with the sheep, and became an intolerable nuisance to the neighbourhood. She was occasionally seen, and the depredations that were committed were brought home to her. Many were the attempts made to entrap or destroy her ; but in vain : for more than six months she eluded the vigilance of her pur- suers. At length she was observed to creep into a hole in an old barn. She was caught as she came out, and the barn being searched three whelps were found, which, very foolishly, were destroyed. The bitch evinced the utmost ferocity, and, although well secured, attempted to seize every one who approached her. She was, however, dragged home and treated with kindness. By degrees her ferocity abated. In the course of two months she became perfectly reconciled to her original abode, and a twelvemonth afterwards (1822) sbe ran suc- cessfully several courses. There was still a degree of wildness in her appearance ; but, although at perfect liberty, she seemed to be altogether recon- ciled to a domestic life. In 1784 a dog was left by a smuggling vessel on the coast of Northumberland. He soon began to worry the sheep for his subsistence, and did so much mischief that he caused very considerable alarm. He was frequently pursued by hounds and greyhounds ; but when the dogs came up he lay upon his back, as if supplicating for mercy, and in that position they would never hurt him. He therefore lay quietly until the hunters approached, when he made off without being followed by the hounds until they were again excited to the pm'suit. He one day led them thirty miles in this way. It was more than three months before he was caught, and was then shot.* A dog with every character of the wild one, has occasionally been seen in some of the forests of Germany, and among the Pyrenean mountains ; but he has rarely been found gregarious there. In the country on the eastern side of the Gulf of ♦ Annals of Spurting, vol. vi., p. 90. Venice wild dogs are more frequent. They increase in the Austrian and Turkish dominions, and are found on almost every part of the coast of the Black Sea, but even "there they rarely gather in flocks ; they do not howl in concert, as the wolf, nor are they the precursors of other and larger beasts, like the jackal. Most of these dogs have the muzzle and head elongated, the ears erect, triangular, and small, the body and neck large and muscular, and the tail short, but with a brush of crisped hair. In many parts of Arabia the wild dog — or dakhun — is occasionally found. In Persia, they are most decidedly congregated together, and still more so in almost every part of India. f Mr. Hodgson has favoured the Zoological So- cletv with an account of the hi THE WILD DOG OF NEP.AL, hisii, and, finding it more or less prevailing through the whole of Northern India, and even southward of the coast of Coromandel, he thought that he had discovered the primitive race of the dog. This is a point that can never be decided. " These dogs hunt their prey by night, as well as by day, in packs of from six to ten individuals, maintaining the chace more by the scent than by the eye, and generally succeeding by dint of strength and perseverance. While hunting, they bark like the hound, yet the bark is peculiar and equally unlike that of the cultivated breeds of dogs, and the cries of the jackal and the fox." Bishop Heber gives the following account of them : " They are larger and stronger than a fox, which in the circumstances of form and fur they much resemble. They hunt, however, in packs, give tongue like dogs, and possess an exquisite scent. They make, of course, tremendous havoc among tlie game in these hills ; but that mischief they are said amply to repay by destroying wild beasts, and even tigers." | Wild dogs are susceptible of certain social combinations. In Egypt, Constantinoiile, and throughout the whole of the East, there are in eveiy village troops of wandering dogs who belong to no particular person. Each troop has its own + Tl; dogs is uperstition of the Arabians and Turks with regard to 2what singular; neither have they much afl'eition for :inimals, or suffer them to be in or near the camp, exctpt to guard It in the night. They have, however, some charity for the females that have whelps. As for other dogs, they feed them well, and give them good words, but never touch them nor go near them, because dogs are regarded as unclean animals. They particulaily drive them away in wet weather; for if one drop of water from a dog should fall on their raiment, their devotion would be interrupted and useless. They who are fond of hunting make their religion subservient to their pleasure, and say that greyhounds and setters are excepted from the general rule, because when not running these dogs are lied up where nothing unclean can reach them, and they are never suffered to eat anything unclean. Their opinion is the same with regard to small dogs, which are kept with great care, and no one willingly injures a dog, or, if he should injure pur- posely, or destroy one of them, the law would punish him. Che- valier Darvieux s Travels in Arabia Deserta, 1718, p. 156. } Hcber's Narrative, p. SOO. 230 quarter of the place ; and, if anj- wander into a quarter whicli does not belong to liim, its inhabi- tants unite together and chase him out. At the Cape of Good Hope there are many dogs half- starved. On going from home the natives induce two or more of these animals to accompany them, warn them of the approach of any ferocious animal, and, if any of the jackals approach the walls during the night, they utter the most piercing cries, and at this signal every dog sallies out, and, uniting to- gether, put the jackals to speedy flight.* The wild Nepal dogs caught when at an adult age make no appi-oach towards domestication ; but a young one, which Mr. Hodgson obtained when it was not more than a inonth old, became sensible to caresses, and manifested as much intelligence as any sporting dog of the same age. f Captain T. Williamson gives an interesting account of the ferocious character of some of these wild dogs. " They have considerable resemblance to tlie jackal in form. They are remarkably savage, and frequently will approach none but their doonahs or keepers, not allowing their own masters to come near them. Some of them are very fleet; but they are not to be depended upon in coursing; for they are apt suddenly to give up the chace when it is a severe one, and indeed they will too often prefer a sheep or a goat to a hare. In hog-hunting they are more valuable. It seems to suit their temper, and they appear to enjoy the snapping and the snarling incident to that species of sports." He says that many persons affect to treat the idea of degeneration in quadrupeds with ridicule ; but all who have been any considerable time resi- dent in India must be satisfied that dogs of European breed become, after every successive generation, more and more similar to the paiiah, or indigenous dog of that countiy. The hounds are the most rapid in their decline, and, except in the form of their ears, they are very much like many of the village curs. Greyhounds and pointers also rapidly decline, although with occa- sional exceptions. Spaniels and terriers deteriorate less, and spaniels of eight or nine generations, and without a cross from Europe, are not only as good as, but far more beautiful than their ancestors. The climate is too severe for mastiffs, and they do not possess sufficient stamina ; but crossed by the East Indian greyhound they are invaluable in hunting the hog. I Colonel Sykes, at one of the meetings of the Zoological Society, produced a specimen of THE WILD DOG OF DAKHUN, or Deccan, a part of India far to the south of Nepal, and gave the following description of this * Histoire dii Cbien, par Elzear Blaze, p. 54 + Piowedings of ilje Zoological Society, Part I., 1833. t Williamson's Oriental Field Sports. " supposed primitive dog : — " Its head is compressed and elongated, but its muzzle not very sharp. The eyes are oblique, the pupils round, and the hides light brown. The expression of the countenance is that of a coarse ill-natured Persian greyhound, without any resemblance to the jackal, the fox, or the wolf. The ears are long, erect, and somewhat rounded at the top. The limbs remarkably large and strong in relation to the bulk of the animal. The size is intermediate between the wolf and the jackal. The neck long, the body elongated, and the entire dog of a red-brown colour." None of the domesticated dogs of Dakhun are common in Europe, but those of Dakhun and Nepal are very similar in all their characters. There is also a dog in Dakhun with hair so short as to make him appear naked. It is called the jwlugar dog. THE WILD DOG OF THE MAHRATTAS possesses a similar conformation ; and the fact is, that the East Indian wild dog is essentially the same in every part of that immense extent of country. There is no more reason, however, for concluding that it was the primitive dog, than for conferring on the Indian cattle the same honour among the ruminants. The truth of the matter is that we have no guide what was the original breed in any country. The lapse of 4000 years would eflect strange alterations in the breeds. The conmion name of this dog, in the track lying between South Bahar and the JMahratta frontier towards Maghore, is DHOLE, the Chryseus Scylex of Hamilton Smith. Captain Williamson, in his Oriental Field Sports, gives the following account of the dholes : " They are to be found chiefly, or only, in the country from Midnapore to Chamu, and even there are not often to be met with. They are of the size of a small greyhound. Their countenance is enlivened by unusually brilliant eyes. Their body, which is slender and deep-chested, is thinly covered by a coat of hair of a reddish-brown or bay colour. The tail is dark towards its extremity. The limbs are light, compact, and strong, and equally calcu- lated for speed and power. They resemble many of the common pariah dogs in form, but the singu- larity of their colour and marks at once demonstrate an evident distinction. " These dogs are said to be perfectly harmless if unmolested. They do not willingly approach persons ; but, if they chance to meet any in their course, they do not show any particular anxiety to escape. They view the human race rather as objects of curiosity, than either of apprehension or enmity. The natives who reside near the Rano- chitty and Katcunsandy passes, in which vicinity the dholes may frequently be seen, describe them as confining their attacks entirelv to wild animals. 231 and assert that they will not prey on sheep, goats, etc.; but others, m the country extending southward fi'om Jelinah and Mechungunge, maintain that cattle are frequently lost by their depredations. I am inclined to believe that the dhole is not particularly ceremonious, but will, when oppor- tunity offers, and a meal is wanting, obtain it at the e.xpense of the neighbouring village. '• The peasants likewise state that the dhole is eager in proportion to the size and powers of the animal he hunts, preferring the elk to every other kind of deer, and particularly seeking the royal tiger. It is probable that the dhole is the principal check on the multiplication of the tiger; and, although incapable individually, or perhaps in small numbers, to effect the destruction of so large and ferocious an animal, may, from their custom of hunting in packs, easily overcome any smaller beast found in the wilds of India. " They run mute, except that they sometimes utter a whimpering kind of note, similar to that sometimes expressed by dogs when approaching their prey. This may be expressive of their own gratification, or anxiety, or may serve as a guide to other dholes to join in the ehace. The speed of the dhole is so strongly marked in his foi'm as to render it probable no animal in the catalogue of game could escape him for any distance. Many of the dholes are destroyed in these contests ; for the tiger, the elk, and the boar, and even many of the smaller classes of game, are capable of making a most obstinate defence. Hence the breed of the dholes is much circumscribed." THE THIBET DOG. Mr. Bennett, in his scientific and amusing description of the Zoological Gardens, gave the Viest account we have of this noble dog, and the jiirtrait at the head of this chapter is a most faithful likeness of him. He is bred in the table land of the Himalaya mountains bordering on Tliibet. The Bhoteas, by whom many of them are carefully reared, come down to the low countries at certain seasons of the year to sell their borax and musk. The women remain at home, and they and the flocks are most sedulously guai-ded by these dogs. They are the defenders of almost every considerable mansion in Thibet. In an account of an embassy to the court of the Teshoo Llama in Thibet, the author says, that he had to pass by a row of wooden cages containing a number of large dogs, fierce, strong, and noisy. They were natives of Thibet, and whether savage by nature, or soured by confinement, they were so impetuously furious that it was unsafe even to approach their dens. Every writer who describes these dogs, speaks of their noble size, and their ferocity, and antipathy to strangers. It is said however that the Thibet dog rapidly degenerates when removed from its native country, and certainly the specimens which have reached the Zoological Gardens exhibited nothing of ferocity. The one that was in that menagerie had a noble and commanding appearance ; but he never attempted to do any iujuiy. The colour of the Thibet dog is of a deep black, slightly clouded on the sides, his feet alone and a spot over each eye being of a full tawny or bright brown hue. He has the broad short trun- cated muzzle of the mastiff, and the lips are still more deeply pendulous. There is also a singular general looseness of the skin on every part of him. THE PARIAH. There are several varieties of this dog. There is a wild breed very numerous in the jungles and in some of the lower ranges of the Himalaya mountains. They usually hunt in packs, and it is not often that their prey escapes them. They generally are very thin, and of a reddish-browu colour, with sharp-pointed ears, deep chest, and tucked-up flanks. Many persons hunt with these dogs singly, and they are very useful. They bring the hog to bay, or indicate the course that he has taken, or distract his attention when the sportsman is at hand. There is also in every inhabited part of the country the poor desolate pariah — unowned by any one — daring to enter into no house, but wan- dering about, and picking up a living in anj^ w^ay that he can. He is however of a superior race to the wild dog, and belongs to the second class of the dog, although mentioned here in order that we may altogether quit the dog of India. They are neglected by the Hindoos ; but the Moham- medans of India, and other strangers, consider it an act of charity to throw out occasionally a morsel of food to them. They are most of them mongrels ; but the benevolent Bishop Heber does them no more than justice when he says that he " was forcibly struck at finding the same dog-like and amiable qualities in these neglected animals as in their more fortunate brethren in Europe." Colonel Sykes says of these outcasts that among the pariahs is frequently found the turnspit- dog. There is also a small petted variety of the pariah, usually of a white colour, and with long silky hair. This animal is taught to carry flam- beaux and lanterns. According to Captain Williamson, in some of the ditches of the Carnatic forts, alligators are purposely kept, and all the pariah dogs found in the forts are thrown into the ditches as provision for these monsters. Some persons who have kept tigers in cages have adopted the same means of supply for their royal captives, putting the poor pariah through an aperture made for the purpose in the cage ; and they justify themselves by assert- 232 ing that they thus get rid of a troublesome bi-eed of curs, most of which are unappropriated, and ■which being numerous are very troublesome to passengers, often wantonly biting them, and raising a yelling noise at night, that sets all attempts to rest at defiance. It did not always happen that the tiger killed the pariah put into his cage. " I knew an instance," says Captain Williamson, "of one that was destined for the tiger's daily meal, standing on the defensive in a manner that completely astonished both the tiger and the spectator. He crept into a corner, and whenever the tiger approached, seized him bv the lip or the neck, making him roar most piteously. The tiger, however, impelled by hunger — for all supply of food was purposely withheld — would renew the attack. The result was ever the same. At length the tiger began to treat the dog with more deference, and not only allowed him to partake of the mess of rice and milk furnished daily for his subsistence, but even refrained from any attempt to disturb him. The two animals at length became reconciled to each other, and a strong attachment was formed between them. The dog was then allowed ingress and egress through the aperture ; and, considering the cage as his home, he left it and returned to it just as he thought proper. When the tiger died he moaned the loss of his companion for a considerable period." A wild variety exists in Sumatra. It is de- scribed by Cuvier as " possessing the countenance of a iox, the eyes oblique, the ears rounded and hairy, the muzzle of a foxy-brown colour, the tail bushy and pendulous, very lively, running with the head lifted high, and the ears straight." This animal can scarcely be rendered ti-actable, and even when he is apparently tamed can rarely be depended upon. As we proceed through the Indian Archipelago, towards Australasia, we skirt the coast of Java. Every Javanese of rank has lai-ge packs of dogs with which he hunts the muntjak, the deer of that country. The dogs are led in strings by the attendants until they scent the prey : they are then unloosed, while the sportsmen follow, but not at the speed which would distinguish the British sportsman. The animal is generally found at bay. The male muntjak usually exhibits considerable courage, and probably several of the dogs have been wounded by his tusks. As soon as they come up eveiy gun is discharged, and the animal almost immediately drops. At other times the mounted sportsmen attack them with a spear or sword. Generally the muntjak does not go off like the stag in any direct track, but takes a circular course, and soon returns to the spot whence it was started. It perhaps makes several of these circles, and at length entangles itself in a thicket, where it is secured. These dogs are the indigenous bi*eed of the island, the body lank, the ears erect, ferocious in their disposition, and with very little attachment to their masters. Such is the account given of them by Dr. Horsfield. TilE DINGO, AUSTRALASIAN, OR NEW HOLLAND DOG. The newly discovered southern continent was, and some of it still continues to be, overrun by the native wild dogs. Dampier describes them, at the close of the last centuiy, as " beasts like the hungry wolves, lean like so many skeletons, and being nothing but skin and bone." It was not until the publication of Governor Phillip's voyage to Botany Bay, that any accurate description or figure of this dog could be obtained. He approaches in appearance to the largest kind of shepherd's dog. The head is elongated, the fore- head flat, and the ears short and erect, or with a slight direction forwards. The body is thickly covered with hair of two kinds — the one woolly and gray, the other silky and of a deep yellow or fawn colour. The limbs are muscular, and, were it not for the suspicious yet ferocious glare of the eye, he might pass for a handsome dog. The Australasian dog, according to M. Desmarest, resembles in form and in the proportion of his limbs the common shepherd's dog. He is very active and courageous, covered in some parts with thick hair, woolly and gray, in other parts becoming of a yelluwish-red colour, and under the belly having a whitish hue. When he is running, the head is lifted more than usual in dogs, and the tail is carried horizontally. He seldom barks. Mr. Bennett observes that " dogs in a state of nature never bark. They simply whine, howl, or growl. The explosive noise of the bark is only found among those that are domesticated." Sonnini speaks of the shepherd's dogs in the wilds of Egypt as not having this faculty; and Columbus found the dogs which he had previously carried to America, almost to have lost their propensity to bark. He does, however, occasionally bark, and has the same kind of snarling voice which the larger dogs generally have. The Australasian dogs that have been brought to Europe have usually been of a savage and untractable disposition. Many of these Australasian dogs have been domiciled in the gardens of the Zoological Society of London. But though inmates of that estab- lishment in one instance for nine years, and in others for more than five years, not an individual has acquired the bark of the other dogs by which they have been surrounded. When a stranger makes his appearance, or when the hour of feeding arrives, the howl of the Australasian is the first sound that is heard, and it is louder than all the rest. If some of them have thrown off a portion of tlieir native ferocity, others retain it imdimiuished. A bitch and two of her whelps, nearly half grown — a male and female — had inhabited the same cage from the time that the young ones were born. Some cause of quarrel occurred on a certain night, and the two bitches fell upon the dog and perfectly destroyed him. There was not a limb left whole. A stronger instance of the innate ferocity of this breed could scarcely be given. Even in their native country all attempts perfectly to domesticate them have failed ; for they never lose an oppor- ^i^ --^;^ THE DINGO. tunity to devour the poultry or attack the sheep. Every domesticated dog coming within their reach was immediately destroyed. One that was brought to England broke his chain, scoured the surround- ing country, and before dawn had destroyed several sheep ; and another attacked and would have destroyed an ass if he had not been prevented. Mr. O.xley, Surveyor-General of Xew South Wales, however, gives an interesting account of the mutual attachment between two of the native and wild New Holland dingos. " About a week ago we killed a native dog, and threw his body on a small bush. On returning past the same spot to-day, we found the body removed three or four yards from the bush, and the female in a dying state lying close beside it ; she had apparently been there from the day the dog was killed. Being now so weakened and emaciated as to be unable to move on our approach, it was deemed a mercy to dispatch her." When Van Diemen Land began to be colonized by Europeans, the losses sustained by the settlers bv the ravages of tlie wild dogs were almost incre- dible. The districts infested by these animals were principally those appropriated to sheep, and there was scarcely a flock that did not suffer. It was in vain to double the number of shepherds, to watch by night and by day, or to have fires at every quarter of the fold ; for these animals would accomplish their object by stratagem or by force. One colony lost no fewer than 1200 sheep and lambs in three months ; another colony lost 700. The ravagers were either the native wild dogs of the island or those that had escaped from their owners. They seemed to have appoi-tioned the country into different districts, each troop having its allotted range. At length the evil became so great that a general meeting of the colonists was con- vened. The concluding sentences of the speech of Lieutenant Hill forcibly express the extent of the evil. " The country is free from bush-rangers : we are no longer surrounded and threatened by the natives. We have only one enemy left in the field ; but that enemy strikes at the very root of our wel- fare, and through him the stream of our prosperity is tainted at its veiy source." The colonists were then few, but they cordially united in the endea- vour to extirpate this formidable enemy ; and, although the wild dog is still found in the interior of the island, he is comparatively seldom seen, and his ravages have nearly ceased. A tradition exists in New Zealand of this dog having been given to the natives two or three 23^ THE DOG. centuries ago by a number of divinities wlio made their descent on these shores, probably Juan Fer- nandez and his companions. The sagacious animal has, however, dwindled down to the lowest rank of his family, but ill usage has not altogether de- stroyed his worth. lu New Zealand he is the safeguard of every village. Should the slightest alarm exist, he is the first to ascertain the cause of it, and many families have saved themselves by flight, or have taken arms in self-defence against the incursions of pi'edatory bands. The New Zea- landers are therefore kind in their treatment of the dog, except that they occasionally destroy him for his hide. The name formerly given to the New Zealand dog was -pero, which in some measure substantiates the supposition of Juan Fernandez having visited the country — perro, in the Spanish language, being the name of a dog. We will now turn to the northern parts of America. The races of wild dogs are there consi- derably limited, both in number and the districts which they occupy. In the elevated sandy country north of the source of the Missouri, inhabited by the " Stone" and the "Black Foot" Indians, is a doubtful species of dogs — wolves they used to be called — who hunt in large packs and are e.xceedingly swift ; ■whose bark is similar to that of the domestic dog, but who burrow in the ground, and eagerly run to their holes when the gini of the hunter is heard. The habit of selecting large, open, sandy plains, and burrowing there, extends to the greater part of the American wild dogs. In some parts of North America whole troops of horses ai'e guarded and kept together by dogs. If any of the troop attempt to steal away, the dog will immediately fly after the horse, head him, and bring him back to his companions. The wild dogs abound in many parts of South America. In some of the forests on the banks of the Orouoko they multiply to an annoying degree. The Cayotte of Mexico, described by some as a wolf, and bearing no slight resemblance to that animal, belongs to the South American wild dogs, as do also the Aguara dogs of every kind. These wanderers of the woods are, however, diminished in numbers in every part of that continent, and are replaced by other kinds, many of which have been imported from Europe and domesticated. Many of the Indian tribes have succeeded in re- claiming the dog of the woods, and have made him a useful although not a perfectly attached servant. The dogs of the Falkland Islands, and the Indian North American dogs generally, are brown or gray-coloured varieties of the wild dog, but they are nearly exterminated. The historv of the WILD DOG OF AFRICA will occupy little space. It has already been stated that in Egypt and in Nubia we have the first records of the dog. Many superstitious notions were con- nected with him, and divine honours were paid to him. Those times are passed away, and he is re- garded with aversion by the Moslem of the present day. He is an outcast. He obtains a scanty living by the offal which he gathers in the towns, or he is become a perfect wild dog, and scours the country for his prey. His modern name is the deal. He is of considerable size, with a round muzzle, large head, small erect ears, and long and hairy tail, spotted with black, white, and yellow, and having a fiei-ce wolfish aspect. These dogs are not, however, numerous ; but the mischief which they do is often great, whether in pairs they bur- row in the earth, or associate with others and hunt in troops.* In Nubia is a smaller dog of the same kind, which never burrows. It lives on small animals and birds, and rarely enters any of the towns. A similar dog, according to Colonel Hamilton Smith, inhabits the neighbourhood of the Cape, and par- ticularly the Karroo or Wilderness. It is smaller than either of the others, and lives among bushes or under prominent rocks. Others, although not identified with the jackal, yet associating with him, inhabit the uplands of Gambia and Senegal. On the Gold Coast, the dog is used and prized as an article of food. He is fattened and driven to market as the European drives his sheep and hogs. The dog is even more valued than the sheep for human subsistence, and is deemed the greatest luxury that can be placed even on the royal table. In Loango, or Lower Guinea, is a town from which the African wild dogs derive their name — the dingo. They hunt in large packs. They fear- lessly attack even the elephant, and generally destroy him. In the neighbourhood of the Cape the country is nearly cleai'ed of wild beasts ; but in Cape Town there are a great number of lean and miserable dogs, who howl about the streets at night, quitting their dens and lurking-places in quest of * Poiret, in liis Travels in Baibary, asserts that " the flog loses in the East a great part of those good qualities that make him the friend of man. He is no longer a faithful domesticated animal, faithfully attached to his master, and ever ready to defend him even at the expense of his own life. He is cruel and blood-thirsty, his look is savage, and his appearance revolting ; carrion, filth, any- thing is good enough for him if he can hut appease his hunger. They seldom bite one another, but they unite against a strangrr who approaches the Arab tents, and would tear him to pieces if he did not seek his safety in flight." — Vol. i., p. 353. Denon, when in the city of Alexandria, in Egypt, says, " I have no longer recognised the dog, that friend of man, the altached and faithful companion — the lively and honest courtier. He is here a gloomy egotist, and cut ofi' from all human intercourse without being the less a slave. He does not know him whose house he protects, and devours his corpse without repugnance."— Travels in Lower Egypt, p. 32. jjsa offal. No great while ago the wolves and hj'senas used to descend and dispute the spoil with the dogs, while the town resounded with their hideous howlings all the night long. This will be a proper place to refer to the nu- merous accounts that are given, both in ancient and modern times, of the immolation of dogs, and of their being used for food. They were sacrificed at certain periods by the Greeks and Romans to almost all their deities, and particularly to Mars, Pluto, and Pan, to Minerva, Proserpine, and Lucina. and also to the moon, because the dog by his barking disturbed all charms and spells, and frightened away all spectres and apparitions. The Greeks immolated many dogs in honour of Hecate, because by their baying the phantoms of the lower world were disturbed. A great number of dogs were also destroyed in Samothrace in honour of the same goddess. Dogs were periodically sacri- ficed in February, and also in April and in May, also to the goddess Rubigo, who presided over the corn, and the Bona Dea, whose mysteiious rites were performed on Mount Aventine. The dog Cerberus was supposed to be watching at the feet of Pluto, and a dog and a youth were periodically sacrificed to that deity, The night when the Capitol had nearly been destroyed was annually celebrated by the cruel scourging of a dog in the principal public places, even to the death of the animal. Many of the Greek and Roman epicures were strangely fond of the flesh of the dog, and those who ought to have knowai much better encouraged the use of this food. Galen speaks of it in the strongest terms of praise. Hippocrates says that the meat of old dogs is of a warm and dry quality, giving strength to the eater. Ananias the poet speaks of dog's flesh served up with that of the hare and fox. Virgil recommends that the fatted dog should be served up with whey or butter, and Dioscorides the physician says that they should he fed on the whey that remains after the making of cheese. Before Christianity was established among the Danes, on every ninth year at the winter solstice, j a monstrous sacrifice of 99 dogs was effected. In ! Sweden the sacrifice was still worse. On each of nine successive days 99 dogs were destroyed. This sacrifice of the dog, however, gave way to one as numerous and as horrible. On every ninth j'ear 99 human victims were' immolated, and the sons of the reigning tyi-ant among the rest, in order that the life of the monarch might be prolonged.* On the other hand, the dog was frequently the executioner ; and, from an early period, whether in the course of war or the mock administration of • Hisloiie da Chien, p. 200. The Voyage of Duraont d'Ur- vill.>, vol. ii., p. 474. justice, thousands of poor wretches were torn to pieces by animals trained to that horrible pur- pose. Llany of the Indians of N(irth America, and almost of the present day, are fond of the flesh of the dog. Captain Carver, in his Travels in North America, in 1766, 1767, and 1768, describes the admission of an Indian into one of the horrible societies of that country. " The dishes being brought near to me," says he, " I perceived that they consisted of dog's flesh, and I was informed that at all their grand feasts they never made use of any other food. The new candidate provides fat dogs for the festival, if they can be procured at any price. They ate the flesh ; but the head and the tongue were left sticking on a pole with the fi'ont towards the east. When any noxious disease appeared among them, a dog was killed, the intestines were wound between two poles, and ever man was com- pelled to pass between them." The Nandowepia Indians also eat dog's flesh as an article of luxury, and not from any want or scarcity of other animal food ; for they have the bear, buffalo, elk, deer, beaver, and racoon. Professor Keating, in his interesting work on the expedition to Peter's River, states that he and a party of American officers were regaled in a large pavilion on buffalo meat, and tepsia, a vege- table boiled in buffalo grease, and the flesh of three dogs kept for the occasion, and without any salt. They partook of the flesh of the dogs with a mix- ture of curiosity and reluctance, and found it to be remarkably fat, sweet, and palatable, divested of any strong taste, and resembling the finest Welsh mutton, but of a darker colour. So strongly rooted, however, are the prejudices of education that few of them could be induced to eat much of it. The feast being over, great care was taken to replace the bones in their proper places in the dish, after which they were carefully washed and buried, as a token of respect to the animals gene- rally, and because there was the belief among them that at some future time they would return again to life. Well-fattened puppies are fre- quently sold ; and an invitation to a feast of dog's meat is the greatest distinction that can be offered to a stranger by any of the Indian nations east of the Rocky Mountains. As a counterpart to much of this, the ancient Hyrcanians may be mentioned, who lived near the Caspian Sea, and who deemed it one of the strongest expressions of respect to leave the coi-pse of their deceased friends to be torn and devoured by dogs. Every man was provided with a certain number of these animals, as a living tomb for him- self at some future period, and these dogs were remarkable for their fierceness. . ■-^- 23t DOMESTICATED DOGS OF THE FIRST DIVISION. THE HARE INDIAN DOG. Some of the readers of this work may possibly recollect three beautiful dogs of this species in the gardens of the Zoological Society of London, -which afforded a perfect illustration of the elongated head of the dogs belonging to Cuvier's first section. Mr. Bennett, the Secretaiy of the Society, gave an interesting account of them in 1835, derived from the observation of Sir John Franklin and Dr. Richardson. The elongation and sharpness of the muzzle, and the small capacity of the skull, first attract attention. The dog was doubtless fitted for its situation, where its duty is to hunt by sight, after the moose or rein-deer, but would have been comparatively worthless if he was to be guided by the scent. Its erect ears, widened at the base and pointed at the top, gave it an appearance of vivacity and spirit. Its depth of chest, and tucked-up flank, and muscular quarters, marked it as a dog of speed, while its light frame, and the length of the toes, and wideness of web between them, seem to depict the kind of surface over which it was to bound. It is not designed to seize and to hold any animal of considerable bulk ; it bounds over the snow without sinking, if the slightest cnist is foi-med upon it, and eagerly overtakes and keeps at bay the moose or tlie rein-deer until the hunters arrive. This animal furnishes a beautiful illustra- tion of adaptation for a particular purpose. The hair of these dogs is white, with patches of grayish-black and brown. They are known only in the neighbourhood of the Mackensie River, and of the Great Bear Lake in North America. They appear to be good-tempered and easily manageable, and soon become familiar even with strangers. They are most valuable to the Indians, who live almost entirely on the produce of the chace. In their native country they never bark, but utter a whine and howl resembling that of the Esquimaux dog ; yet one of the three, who was born a few days after its parents arrived at the gardens, while it whined and howled occasionally with its parents, at other times uttered the perfect bark of its companions of various breeds around it. THE ALBANIAN DOG can be traced to a very remote period of history. Some of the old authors speak of it as the dog which, in the times of ancient mythology, Diana presented to Procris. Pliny describes in enthusi- astic terms the combat of one of them with a lion, and afterwards with an elephant. A dog very much resembling the ancient stories is yet found in Albania, and most of the districts of Greece. He is almost as large as a mastiff, with long and silky hair, the legs being shorter and stronger than those of the greyhound. He is gentle and tractable with those whom he knows, and when there is no point of duty at stake ; but no bribe can seduce him from his post when any trust is committed to him. THE GREAT DANISH DOG, CALLED ALSO THE DALMATIAN OR SPOTTED DOG. The difference between these two breeds con- sists principally in the size, the Dalmatian being much smaller than the Danish. The body is generally white, marked with numerous small THE DOG. S37 r'h- f^S',^^ round black or reddish-brown spots. The Dal- matian is said to be used in his native country for the chace, to be easily broken, and stanch to his work. He has never been thus employed in England, but is chiefly distinguished by his fondness for horses, and' as being the frequent attendant on the carriages of the wealthy. To that its ofBce seems to be confined ; for it rarely develops sufficient sense or sagacity to be useful in any of the ordinary offices of the dog. THE FRENCH MATIN (Canis laniarius). There is considerable diffi- culty in describing this variety. The French con- sider it as the progenitor of all the breeds of dogs that resemble and yet cannot be perfectly classed with the greyhound. It should rather be con- sidered as a species in which are included a variety of dogs — the Albanian, the Danish, the Irish greyhound, and almost the pure British greyhound. The head is elongated and the forehead flat, the ears pendulous towards the tips, and the colour of a yellowish fawn. This is the usual sheep-dog in France, in which country he is also employed as a house-dog. He discharges his duty most faith- fnlly ; and, notwithstanding his flat forehead, shows himself to possess a very high degree of intelligence. VOL. It. THE GREYHOUND. We find no mention of this dog in the early Grecian records. The pugnaces and the sagaces are mentioned ; but the celeres—the swift-footed— are not spoken of as a peculiar breed. The Celtic nations, the inhabitants of the northern contnient of Europe and the Western Islands, were then scarcely known, and the swift-footed dogs were peculiar to those tribes. They were not, however, introduced into the more southern parts of Europe until after the dissolution of the Roman common- wealth. The dog is, however, mentioned by Ovid ; and his description of coursing the hare is so accurate that we cannot refrain from inserting it. We select a translation of it from Goldiug. " I gat me to the knap Of this same hill, and there behelde of this strange course the hap. In which the beaste seemes one while caught, and ere a man would thinke Doth quickly give the grewnd* the slip, and from his bitmg shrinke; And, like a wilie fox, he runs not forth directly out, , Nor makes a winlas over all the champion fields about, But, doubling and indenting, .still avoydes his enemie's lips. An turning short, as swilt about as spinning wlieele he wips, To disappoint the snatch. The grewnd, pursuing at an inch, Doth cote + him, never loosing. Continuidly he snatches In vuine, but nothing in his mouth, sare only hair, he catches." There is another sketch by the same poet : • Greyhound. + Overcast, or uernin. 238 " As when ih' impatient greyhound, slipped from far, Bounds o'er the glade to course the fearful hare, She in her speed does all her safety lay, And he with double speed pursues the prey ; O'erruns her at the sitting turn, but licks His chaps in vain, yet blows upon the flix; She seeks the shelter, which the neighbouring'covert ] And, gaining it, she doubts if yet she lives."' The English, Scotch, and Irish greyhound were all of Celtic derivation, and their cultivation and character corresponded with the civilization of the different Celtic tribes. The dogs that were exported from Britain to Rome were probably of this kind. Mr. Blaine gives an account of "the the progress of these dogs, which seems to be evidently founded on truth. " Scotland, a northern locality, has long been celebrated for its grey- hounds, which are known to be large and wiry- coated. They are probably types of the early Celtic greyhounds, which, yielding to the influences of a colder climate than that they came from, became coated with a thick and wiry hair. In Ireland, as being milder in its climate, the frame expanded in bulk, and the coat, although not altogether, was yet less crisped and wiiy. In both localities, there being at that time boars, wolves, and even bears, powerful dogs were required. In England these wild beasts were more eariy exter- minated, and consequently the same kind of dog * Oi'id, ifetamorph., lib. i , v. 353. was not retained, but, on the coutraiy, was by culture made finer in coat, and of greater beauty in form." Mr. Richardson, in his History of the Grey- hound, gives a different derivation of the name of this dog. He says that the greyhound was of Grecian origin — canis Gi-O'cus—tha.t Graciis was not uufrequently written Grains, and thence was derived the term greyhound. This derivation, however, is somewhat too far-fetched. Mention occurs of the greyhound in a veiy early period of the British history. He was an inmate of the Anglo-Saxon kennels in the time of Elfric, king of Mercia. Tliere are paintings of him that can be satisfactorily traced to the ninth centuiy. In the time of Canute he was reckoned first in degree of rank among the canine species, and no one under the degree of a gentleman, liheralis, or more properly perhaps a freeholder, was allowed by the forest laws to keep them. Even he could not keep them within two miles of a royal forest, unless two of the toes were cut off, and for every mile that an uncut dog was found within this distance, a fine of a shilling was levied on the owner. The nobleman was rarely seen abroad without his hawk upou his fist, and his greyhound at his side. Henry II. was passionately fond of them. John spared no expense to procure good horses and swift hounds, and appears frequently to have 239 received greyhounds in lieu of money on the issue or renewal of grants. For the renewal of a grant in tlie year 1203 he received five hundred marks, ten horses, and ten leashes of greyhounds ; and for another, in r210, one swift running horse and six greyhounds. The Isle of Dogs, now devoted to purposes of commerce, derived its name from its having been, at this period, the receptacle of the greyhounds and spaniels of this monarch. It was selected on account of its contiguity to Waltham and the other royal forests where coursing was a frequent amusement. For the same piu-pose he often took up his abode at Greenwich.* Blount's Ancient Tenures abound with in- stances of the high repute in which this dog has ever been held in Great Britain. The holders of land in the manor of Setene in Kent were com- pelled, as the condition of their tenure to Edward I. and II., to lend their greyhounds, when this king went into Gascony, " so long as a pair of shoes of 4d. price would last." Edward III. was partial to greyhounds ; for w^hen he was engaged in war with France, he took with him sixty couples of them, besides other large hunting dogs. C harles T. was as fond of the greyhound as his son Charles II. was of the spaniel. Su- Philip Warwick thus writes of that unfortunate monarch : " Methinks, because it shows his dislike of a com- mon court vice, it is not unworthy the relating of him, that one evening, his dog scratching at his door, he commanded me to let in Gipsy ; where- upon I took the boldness to say. Sir,! perceive you love a greyhound better than you do a spaniel. Yes, says he, for they equally love their masters, and yet do not flatter them so much." On most of the old tombs in the sculpture of which the dog is introduced, the greyhound is represented lying at the feet of his master ; and an old Welsh proverb says that a gentleman may be known by his hawk, his horse, and his greyhound. The following poetical record of the fidelity, * A singular story is told of Richard II. and one of tliese dogs. It is given in the language of Froissart. " A grayhounde called Mithe, who always wayted upon the kynge, and woulde knowe no man els. For when so ever the kynge did ryde, he that kept the grayhounde dyd lette him lose, and he wolde streyght runne to the kynge and faune uppon hym, and leape with his fore fete uppon the kynge's shoulders. And, as the kynge and the Erie of Derby talked togyder in the courte, the grayhounde, who was wonte to leape uppon the kynge, left the kynge and came to the Erie of Derby, Duke of Lancastre, and made to him the same friendly countenance and chere as he was wonte to do to the kynge. The duke, who knew not the grayhounde, demanded of the kynge what the grayhounde wolde do? 'Cousin,' quod the kynge, 'it is a greate goode token to you, and an evyl signe to me.' ' How knowe you that?' quod" the duke. 'I knowe it well,' quod the kynge. ' The gi-ayhounde ackuowledgeth you here this daye as Kynge of England, as ye shal be, and I shal be deposed; the gr.ayhounde hath this knowledge naturally: therefore take hym to you, he wyll followe ycu and forsake me.' The duke understood well those words, and cheryshed the grayhounde, who wolde never after followe kynge Richarde, but followed the Duke of Lancastre." prowess, and ill-fate of Gelert, the favourite grey- hound of Llewellyn Prince of Wales, and son-in- law to King John, will be read with interest: — The spearman heard the bugle sound And cheerly smiled the morn. And many a brach and many a hound Obeyed Llewellyn's horn. And still he blew a louder blast, And gave a louder cheer, " Come, Gelert ! why art thou the last Llewellyn's horn to hear?" " Oh, where does faithful Gelert roam, The flower of all his race ! So true, so brave ; a lamb at home, A lion in the ohacc ?" 'T was only at Llewellyn's board The faithful Gelert fed. He watched, he served, he cheered his lord, And sentinel'd his bed. In sooth he was a jicerless hound, The gift of royal John ; But now no Gelert could be found, And all the chace rode on. And now as over rocks and dells The gallant chidiugs ri.se, All Snowdon's craggy chaos yells ■With many mingled cries. That day Llewellyn little loved The chace of hart or hare, And s<^ant and small the booty proved, For Gelert was not there. Unpleased Llewellyn homeward hied ; When near the portal seat His truant Gelert he espied. Bounding his lord to greet. But when he gained the castle-door, Aghast the chieftain stood ; The hound was smeared with gouts of gore, His lips and fangs ran blood. Llewellyn gazed with wild surprise : Unused such looks to meet. His favourite check'd his joyful guise, And crouched and licked his feeU Onward in haste Llewellyn pass'd, And on went Gelert too ; And still, where'er his eyes he cast, Fresh blood -gouts shocked his view. O'ertumed his infant's hed he found, The blood-stained covert rent ; Aud all around the walls and ground With recent blood besprent. He called his child — no voice replied — He searched with terror wild : Blood ! blood ! he found on every side, But nowhere found the child. " Hellhound 1 by thee my child 's devoured 1" The frantic father cried ; And to the hilt his vengeful sword He plunged in Geleit's side. His suppliant, as to earth he fell, No pity could impart ; But still his Gelert's dying yell Passed heavy o'er his heart. Aroused by Gelert's dying yell. Some slumberer wakened nigh: — What words the parent's joy can tell To hear his infant cry I Concealed beneath a mangled heap His hurried search had missed, All glowing from his rosy sleep, His cherub boy he kissed. Nor scratch had he, nor harm, nor dread. But the same couch beneath Lay a great wolf, all torn and dead, Tremendous still in death. Ah, what was then Llewellyn's pain ! For now the truth was clear ; The gallant hound the wolf had slain, To save Llewellyn's heir. Vain, vain was all Llewellyn's wo ; " Best of thy kind, adieu ! The frantic deed which laid thee low This heart shall ever rue." And now a gallant tomb they raise, With costly sculptiu-e decked ; And marbles, storied with his praise. Poor Gelert's bones protect. Here never could the spearman pass. Or forester, unmoved ; Here oft the tear-besprinkled grass Llewellyn's sorrow proved. And here he hung his horn and spear. And oft, as evening fell, In fancy's piercing sounds would hear Poor Gelert's dying yell ! It will be evident, however, from the story of the noble hound Nvhose history is just related, that the greyhounds of the time were very different from those which are used at the present day. There are no Gelerts now to combat successfully with the wolf, if these forocious animals were yet to be met with in our forests. The greyhound of this early period must have resembled the Irish wolf-dog of the present day, a larger, stronger, fiercer dog than we are accustomed to see. The owner of Gelert lived in the time of John, in the early part of the thirteenth century ; but, at the latter part of the fifteenth centuiy, the following singular description is given of the greyhound of that period. It is extracted from a very curious work entitled "The Treatise per- teynynge to Hawkynge, Huntynge, &c , emprynted at Westmestre, by Wynkyn de Worde, 1496." A greyhounde should be headed lyke a snake. And neckyd lyke a drake, Fotyd like a cat, Tayled like a ratte, Syded like a teme. And chyned like a bream. The fyrste yere he must leame to fedc. The seconde yere to feld him lede. The thyrde yere he is felow lyke. The fourth yere there is none syke. The fifth yere he is good ynough. The syxtli yere he shall hold the plough The seventh year he will avaylle Grete bylches for assayle. But when he is come to the ninth yere. Have him then to the tannere ; For the best hound that ever bytch had At the ninth yere is lull bad. As to the destiny of the poor animal in his ninth year, we differ from the author; but it cannot be denied that few dogs retain their speed beyond the eighth or ninth year. There can scarcely be a better description of the greyhound of the present day, but it would not do for the antagonist of the wolf. The breed had probably begun to degenerate, and that process would seem to have slowly progressed. Towards the close of the last century Lord Orford, a noble- man enthusiastically devoted to coursing, imagined, and rightly, that the greyhound of his day was deficient in courage and perseverance. He be- thought himself how this could best be rectified, and he adopted a plan which brought upon him much ridicule at the time, but ultimately redounded to his credit. He selected a bull-dog, one of the smooth, rat-tailed species, and he crossed one of his greyhound bitches with him. He kept the female whelps, and ci'ossed them with some of his fleetest dogs, and the consequence was, that, after the sixth or seventh generation, there was not a vestige left of the fomi of the bull-dog, but his courage and his indomitable perseverance remained, and, having once started after his game, he did not relinquish chace until he fell exhausted, or perhaps died. This cross is now almost universally adopted. It is one of the secrets in the breeding of the greyhound. Of the stanchness of the well-bred greyhound the following is a satisfactory e.xample. A hare was started before a brace of greyhounds, and ran by them for several miles. When they were found, both the dogs and the hare lay dead within a few yards of each other. A labouring man had seen them turn her several times, but it did not appear that either of them had caught her, for there was no wound upon her. A favourite bitch of this breed was Czarina, bred by Lord Orford, and purchased at his decease by Colonel Thornton. She won every match for which she started, and they were no fewer than forty-seven. Lord Orford had matched her for a stake of considerable magnitude ; but, before the appointed day arrived he became seriously ill, and was confined to his chamber. On the morning of the course he eluded the watchfulness of his attendant, saddled his favourite piebald poney, and, at the moment of starling, appeared on the course. No one had power to restrain him, and all entreaties were vain. He peremptorily insisted on the dogs being stai'ted, and he would ride after them. His favourite bitch displayed her superiority at every stroke ; she won the stakes: but at the moment of highest exultation he fell from his poney, and, pitching on his head, almost immediately expired. With all his eccentricities, he was a kind, benevo- lent, and honourable man. In the thirteenth year of her age, and in defiance of the strange verses just now quoted, Czarina began to breed, and two of her progeny, 241 Claret and young Czarina, challenged tlie whole kingdom, and won their matches. Major, and Snowball, without a white spot about him, inherited all the excellence of their dam. The former was rather the fleeter of the two, hut the stanchuess of Snowball nothing could exceed. A Scotch grej'houud, who had beaten every opponent in his own country, was at this time brought to England, and challenged every dog in the kingdom. The challenge was accepted by Snowball, who beat him in a two-mile course. Snowball won the Malton cup on four successive years, was never beaten, and some of his blood is now to be traced in almost every good dog in every part of the kingdom, at least in all those that are accustomed to hunt in an open country. The last match run by Snowball was against Mr. Plumber's celebrated greyhound Speed ; and, so severely contested was it, that Speed died soon afterwards. A son of the old dog, called Young Snowball, who almost equalled his father, was sold for one hundred guineas. The speed of tlie greyhound has been said to be equal to that of the fleetest horse. A singular circumstance, which occurred at Doncaster, proved that it was not much inferior. A mare cantering over the Doncaster course, her competitor having been withdrawn, was joined by a greyhound bitch when she had proceeded about a mile. She seemed determined to race with the mare, which the jockey humoured, and gradually increased his pace, until at the distance they put themselves at their full speed. The mare beat her antagonist only by a head. The race-horse is, perhaps, generally superior to the greyhound on level ground, but the greyliound would have the advantage in a hilly country. Lord Rivers succeeded to Major Topham and ' Colonel Thorn^on, the owners of Major and Snow- j ball, as the leading man on the course. His kennels at Strathfieldsaye were the pride of the neighbouring country. At first he bore away almost every prize, but breeding too much in and in, and for speed more than for stoutness, the repu- tation of his kennel considerably declined before his death. In 1797 a brace of greyhounds coursed a hare ^ over the edge of a chalk-pit at Off ham. in Sussex. The hare and both the dogs were found dead at the bottom of the pit. On another occasion a hare was chased by a brace of greyhounds : she was killed at the distance of seven miles from the place at which they started. Both of the dogs were so exhausted, that, every possible assistance being given, they were with difficulty recovered. The English greyhound hunts by sight alone ; not because he is altogether devoid of scent, but because he has been taught to depend upon his speed, and that degree of speed which is utterly incompatible with the searching out of the scent. It is like a pack of hounds, running breast high, with the game in view. They are then running by sight, and not by scent, almost doubling their usual pace, and sometimes, from an unexpected turning of the fox or hare, throwii out for a little while. The hound soon recovers the track by his exquisite sense of smell. The English greyhound is never taught to scent his game, but, on the contraiy, is called off the moment he has lost sight of the hare, the re-starting of which is left to the spaniel. The English greyhound is distinguished by its peculiarly long and attenuated head and face, terminating in a singular sharpness of the nose, and length of the muzzle or mouth. There are two results from this : the length of the mouth gives a longer grasp and secures the prey, but, as the nasal cavitie.s and the cavity of the skull are proportionately diminished, there is not so much room for the expansion of the membrane of the nose, there is less power of scent, and less space for the development of the brain. There is little want of extraordinary acute hearing, and the ears of the gi-eyhound are small compared with his bulk. Markham recommends the ears to be close, sharp, and drooping, neither protruding by tlieir bulk, not tiring by their weight. The power of the eye is but of little conse- quence, for the game is rarely distant from the dog, and, therefore, easily seen. The neck is an important portion of the frame. It should be long, in order to correspond with the length of the legs, and thus enable the dog to seize and lift the game, as he rapidly pur- sues his course, without throwing any undue or dangerous weight on the fore extremities. In the act of seizing the hare the short-necked dog may lose the centre of gravity and fall. The chest is a very important part of the grey- hound, as well as of every other animal of speed. It must be capacious : this capacity must be ob- tained by depth rather than by width, in order that the shoulders may not be thrown so far apart as to impede progression. The form and situation of the shoulders are of material consequence; for on them depends the extent of the action which the animal is capable of exerting. The shoulders should be broad and deep, and obliquely placed. They are so in the horse, and the action of the dog depends entirely on this conformation. The fore-legs should be set on square at the shoulder: bulging out at the elbow not only gives a clumsy appearance, but makes the dog slow. The legs -should have plenty of bone, and be straight, and well set on the feet, and the toes neitlier turned out nor in. The fore-arm, or that 1 portion of the leg which is between the elbow and 248 the knee, should be long, straight, and muscular. These are circunistauces that cannot be dispensed ■with. The length of the fore-arm, and tlie low placing of the pastern, are of essential importance. With regard to the form of the back and sides of the greyhound, Mr. Thacker says, with much truth, that " It is the strength of the back which is brought into requisition, in particular, in running over hilly ground. Here may be said to rest the distinction between long and short backs, suppos- ing both to be good and strong. The more lengthy the back, and proportionately strong, the more the greyhound is calculated to beat the shorter-backed dog on the flat ; but on hilly ground one with a shorter back will have the advantage."* The ribs should also be well arched. We would perhaps avoid him with sides too decidedly outswelling, but still more would we avoid the direct flat-sided dog. Without really good haunches and muscular thighs, it has been well remarked that the odds are against any dog, be his other points whatever they may. It is by the propulsatory efforts of the muscles of the loins and thighs that the race is won. The thighs should be large and muscularly indented ; the hocks broad, and, like the knee, low placed. These are very important points ; for, as Mr. Blaine has properly remarked, " on the extent of the angles formed between these several portions of the hinder limbs, depends the extent of the space ' over at each bound." The colour of the greyhound varies exceed- ingly. Some are perfectly black and glossy. In strength and endurance the brindled dog, or the brown or fawn-coloured one, is the best. The white greyhound, although a beautiful animal and swift, is not, perhaps, quite so much to be de- pended on. The greyhound is said to be deficient in attach- ment to his master and in general intelligence. There is some truth in the imputation ; but, in fact, the greyhound has, far less than even the hound, the opportunity of forming individual attachments, and no other exercise of the mind is required of him than to follow the game which starts up before him, and to catch it if he can. If, however, he is closely watched he will be found to have all the intellect that his situation requires.} As to the individual attachment which the grey- hound may form, he has not always or often the oppoi-tunity to acquire or to exhibit it. The ♦ Thacker on Sporting. + The writer of this work had a brace of greyhounds as arrant thieves as ever lived. They would now and then steal into the cooking-room belonging to the kennel, lift the hd from the boiler, and, if any portion of the joint or piece of meat projected above the water, suddenly seize it, and before there was time for them to feel much of its heat, contrive to whirl it on the floor, and eat it at their leisure as it got cold. In order to prevent this, the top of the boiler was secured by an iron rod passing under its handle, and tied to the handle of the boiler on each side ; but not many (lays passed keeper exercises over him a tyrannical power, and the owner seldom notices him in the manner which excites aff'ection, or scarcely recognition ; but, as a jjlea for the seeming want of fondness, which, compared with other breeds, he exhibits, it will be sufiicient to quote the testimony of the younger Xenoj)hon, who had made the greyhound his com- panion and his friend. " I have myself bred up," says he, " a swift, hard-working, courageous, sound-footed dog. He is most gentle and kindly affectioned, and never before had I any such a dog for myself, or my friend, or my fellow-sportsman. When he is not actually engaged in coursing he is never away from me. On his return he runs before me, often looking back to see whether I had turned out of the road, and as soon as he again catches sight of me, showing symptoms of joy, and once more trotting away before me. If a short time only has passed since he has seen me or my friend, he jumps up repeatedly by way of salutation, and barks with joy as a greeting to us. He has also many different tones of speech, and such as I never heard from any other dog. Now really 1 do not think that I ought to be ashamed to chronicle the name of this dog, or to let posterity know that Xenophou the Athenian had a greyhound, called Horme, possessed of the greatest speed, and in- telligence, and fidelity, and excellent in every point." The greyhound has within the last fifty years assumed a somewhat different character from that which he once possessed. He is distinguished by a beautiful symmetry of form, of which he once could not boast, and he has even superior speed to that which he formerly exhibited. He is no longer used to struggle with the deer, but he contends with his fellow over a shorter and speedier course. The rules for breeding and breaking-in of greyhounds are very simple. The utmost atten- tion should be paid to the qualities of the parents; [ for it is as certain in these dogs as in the horse I that all depends upon the breeding. The bitch [ should be healthy and of good size ; the dog mus- cular, stanch, and speedy, and somewhat larger than the bitch. Both should have arrived at their full vigour, and with none of their powers beginning to fail. Those as much as possible should be selected whose peculiar appearance bids fair to in- crease the good qualities and diminish the bad ones on either side. The best blood and the best ere they discovered that they could gnaw the cords asimder, and displace the rod, and fish out the meat as before. Small chains were then substituted for the cords, and the meat was cooked in safety for nearly a week, when they found that, by rearing them- selves on their hind legs, and applying their united strength towards the top of the boiler, tliey could lift it out of its bed and roll it along the floor, and so get at the broth, although the meat was out of their reach. The man who looked after them expressed himself heartily glad when ihey were gone ; for he said he was often afraid to go into the kcnuel, and was sure they were devils, and not dogs. THE DOG. M'3 form should be diligently sought. Breeding from young dogs on either side should, generally speak- ing, be avoided. With regard to older dogs, whether male or female, there may be less care. Many greyhounds, both male and female, eight, nine, and ten years of age, have been the progeni- tors of dogs possessing every stanch and good quality. On no consideration, however, should the bitch be put to the dog before she is two years old. Little can be done to regulate the period of oestrum; but the most valuable breed will be almost invariably that which is produced during the spring, because at that time there will often be opportunity for that systematic exercise on which the growth and powers of the dog so materially depend. A litter of puppies in the beginning or even the middle of winter will often be scai'cely worth the trouble or expense of rearing. The age of the greyhound is now taken from the first day in the year; but the conditions of entry are fixed at different periods. It seems, however, to be agreed that no dog or bitch can qualify for a puppy cup after two years of age. One principle to be ever kept in mind is a warm and comfortable situation, and a plentiful supply of nourishment for the mother and for the puppies from the moment of their birth. The dog that is stinted in his early growth will never do its owner credit. The bitch should be abundantly supplied with milk, and the young ones with milk and bread, and oatmeal, and small portions of flesh as soon as they are disposed to eat it ; great care, however, being taken that they are not over-gorged. Regular and proper feeding, with occasional exer- cise, will constitute the best preparation for the actual training. If a foster-mother be required for the puppies, it should, if possible, be a greyhound; for it is not at all impossible that the bad qualities of the nurse may, to a greater or less degree, be com- municated to the whelps. Bringing up by hand is far preferable to the introduction of any foster- mother. A glass or India-rubber bottle may be used for a little while, if not until the weaning. Milk at first, and afterwards milk and sop alter- nately, may be used. There is a difference of opinion whether the whelp should be kept in the kennel and subjected to its regular discipline, or placed at walk in some farm-house. In consequence of the liberty he will enjoy at the latter, his growth will probably be more rapid ; but, running with the farmers' dogs, and probably coursing many hares, he will acquire, to a certain degree, a habit of wildness. It is useless to deny this ; but, on the other hand, nothing will contribute so much to the develop- ment of every power as a state of almost unlimited freedom when the dogs are young. The wildness that will be exhibited can soon be afterwards restrained so far as is necessary, and the dog who has been permitted to exert his powers when young will manifest his superiority in more advanced age, and in nothing more than his dexterity at the turn. When the training actually commences, it should be preceded by a couple of doses of physic, with an interval of five or six days, and, probably, a moderate bleeding between them ; for, if the dog begins to work overloaded with flesh and fat, he will suffer so severely from it that possibly he will never afterwards prove a game dog. In the course of his training he should be allowed every advan tage, and experience every encouragement. His courses should be twice or thrice a- week, accoi-ding to their severity, and as often as it can be effected he should be rewarded with some mark of kind- ness. In the Sportsman for April, 1840, is an interesting account of the chice of the hare. It is said that, in general, a good greyhound will reach a hare if she runs straight. He pursues her eagerly, and the moment he is about to strike at her she turns short, and the dog, unable to stop himself, is thrown from ten to twenty yards from her. These jerking turns soon begin to tell upon a dog, and an old well-practised hare will seldom fail to make her escape. When, however, pursued by a couple of dogs, the hare has a more difficult game to play, as it frequently happens that when she is turned by the leading dog she has great difficulty in avoiding the stroke of the second. It is highly interesting to witness the game of an old hare. She has generally some brake or thicket in view, under the cover of which she means to escape from her pursuers. On moving from her seat she makes directly for the hiding place, but, unable to reach it, has recourse to turning, and, wrenched by one or the other of her pursuers, she seems every moment almost in the jaws of one of them, and yet in a most dexterous manner she accomplishes her object. A grey hound, when he pei-ceives a hare about to enter a thicket, is sure to strike at her if within any reasonable distance. The hare shortens her stride as she approaches the thicket, and at the critical moment she makes so sudden, dexterous, and effectual a spring, that the dogs are flung to a considerable distance, and she has reached the cover and escaped. The isle of Cyprus has for many years been celebrated for its breed of the greyhound. On grand days, or when the governor is present, the sport is conducted in a curious manner. When the hare is ready to become the prey of its enemies, the governor rushes forwards, and throwing before the greyhounds a stick which he carries, they all instantaneously stop. The hare now runs a little I distance ; but one of the swiftest greyhounds is then let loose. He pursues the hare, and, having come up with it, carries it back, and springing on the neck of the governor's horse, places it before him. The governor delivers it to one of his officers, who sends it to the park, where he main- tains many prisoners of the same kind ; for he will not destroy the animal that has contributed to his amusement.* The following, according to Mr. Blaine, an ardent courser in his youth, is the best mode of feeding greyhounds at regular work : — " The dogs had a full flesh meal every afternoon or evening, as more nutriment is derived from night-feeding than by day, and when sleeping than when v/akiug. In the morning they were let out, and either followed the keeper about the paddock, or the groom in his horse exercise, and then had a trifling meal of mixed food, as a quieting portion, until the evening full meal. Such was our practice on the days when no coursing was contemplated, and with the exception of lowering the quantity and quality of the evening meal, the same plan was pursued throughout the year. On the day previous to coui-sing, if we intended anything like an exhibition of our dogs before company engaged to meet us on the mai-shes, we gave a plentiful meal early the previous day, some exercise also in the afternoon, and a light supper at night of meal with either broth or milk, with a man on horseback going a gentle trot of six or seven miles an hour."f Mr. Thacker orders the greyhounds out on the fore part of every day ; but, instead of being loose and at liberty, they would be much better two and two ; then when he meets with a proper field to loose them in, to give them a good gallop. This will be a greater novelty than if they had been loose on the road, and they will gallop with more eagerness. Four days in a week will be enough for this exercise. On one day there should be a gallop of one or two miles, or even a course for each brace of dogs. The young dog has usually an older and more experienced one to start with him. That which is of most importance is, that his leader should be a thoroughly stout and high-mettled dog. If he shrinks or shies at any impediment, however formidable, the young one will be sure to imitate him, and to become an uncertain dog, if not a rank coward. Early in November is the time when these initiatory trials are to be made. It is of consequence that the young one should witness a death as soon as possible. Some imagine that two old dogs should accompany the young one at its first commencement. After the death of the leveret, the young dog must be coaxed and fondled, but never suffered to taste the blood. • Scott's Sportsman's Ri posilory, p. 97. + Blaine's Encyclopedia ol Spoiling. In kennels in which the training is regularly conducted, the dog should be brushed all over twice eveiy day. Few things contribute so much to health as general cleanliness, and friction applied to the skin. Warmth is as necessary for greyhounds as for horses, and should not be for- gotten in cold weather. Body-clothing is a custom of considerable antiquity, and should not be aban- doned. The breeder of greyhounds for the purpose of coursing mustreckon upon incurring considerable expense ; but, if he loves the sport, he will be amply remunerated by the speed and stoutness of his dogs. A question has arisen whether, on the morning of the coursing, any stimulant should be given to the dog. The author of this work would unhesita- tingly approve of this practice. He has had abundant experience of the good effect of it ; but the stimulus must be that which, while it produces the desired effect, leaves no exhaustion behind, t THE SCOTCH GREYHOUND has the same sharpness of muzzle, length of head, lightness of ear, and depth of chest, as the English dog ; but the general frame is stronger and more muscular, the hind quarters more prominent, there is evident increase of size and roughness of coat, and there is also some diminution of speed. If it were not for these points, these dogs might occa- sionally be taken for each other. In coursing the hare, no north-country dog will stand against the lighter southern, although the southern would be unequal to the labour often required from the Highlander. The Scotch greyhound is said, perhaps wrongly, to be oftenest used by those who look more to the quantity of game, than to the fairness and open- ness of the sport, and in some parts of the country this dog is not permitted to be. entered for a sweepstakes, because, instead of depending on his speed alone, as does the English greyhound, he has recourse to occasional artifices in order to intercept the hai'e. In sporting language he nms sly, and therefore is sometimes excluded. THE HIGHLAND GREYHOUND OR DEER-HOUND is a larger, stronger, and fiercer dog, and may be readily distinguished from the Lowland Scotch greyhound, by its pendulous and generally darker ears, and by the length of hair which almost covers his face. Many accounts have been given of the perfection of its scent, and it is said to have followed a wounded deer during two successive days. He is usually two inches taller than the Scotch greyhound. The head is carried particularly high, and gives to the animal a noble appearance. His limbs are exceedingly muscular, } For a set of laws for Coursing Matches, see Appendix. 245 his back beautifully arched. The tail is long and curved, but assumes the form of au almost straight line when he is much excited. The only fault which these dogs have is their occasional ill-temper, or even ferocity ; but this does not extend to the owner and his family. It appears singular that the English greyhound exhibits so little power of scent ; but this is simply because he has never been taught to use it, or has been cruelly corrected when he has attempted to exercise it. Holinshed relates the mischief that followed the stealing of one of these dogs : — " Divers of the young Pictesh nobilitye repaired unto Craith- liut, the King of the Scots, for to hunt and make merie with him ; but, when they should depart homewards, perceiving that the Scottish dogs did far excel theirs, both in faimesse, swiftnesse, and hardinesse, and also in long standing up and holding out, they got diverse both dogs and bitches of the best kind for breed, to be given them by the Scottish Lords ; and yet not so contented, they stole one belonging to the King from his keeper, being more esteemed of him than all the others which he had about him. The maister of the leash, being informed hereof, pursued after them that had stolen the dog, thinking, indeed, to have taken him from them ; but they not being to part with him fell at altercation, and at the end chanced to strike the maister of the leash through with their horse spears, so that he did die presently. Whereupon noise and crie being raised in the country by his servantes, divers of the Scots, as they were going home from hunting, returned, and falling upon the Picts to revenge the death of their fellow, there ensued a shrewed bickering bet-\vixt them; so that of the Scots there died three score gentlemen, besides a great number of the commons, not one of them understanding what the matter meant. Of the Picts there were about 100 slaine." Mr. H. D. Ricliardson describes a cross between the greyhound and British bloodhound : — " It is a tall muscular raw-boned dog, the ears far larger, and more pendulous, than those of the greyhound or deer-hound. The colour is generally black, or black and tau ; his muzzle and the tips of the ears usually dark. He is exceedingly swift and tierce ; can pull down a stag single-handed ; runs chiefly by sight, but will also occasionally take up the scent. In point of scent, however, he is inferior to the true deer-hound. This dog cannot take a turn readily, but often fails at the double."* THE IRISH GREYHOUND. This dog differs from the Scotch, in having shorter and liner hair, of a pale fawn coloiu', and pendent ears. It is, compared with the Scotch dog, gentle and harmless, perhaps indolent, until roused. It is a larger dog than the Scottish dog, some of them being full four feet in length, and pi-oportionately muscular. On this account, and also on account of their determined spirit when roused, they were carefully preserved by some Irish gentlemen. They were formerly used in hunting the wolf when that animal infested the forests of Ireland. Mr. Bell says that the last person who kept the pure breed was Loi-d Altamont, who in 1780 had eight of them.f THE GASEHOUND, the agasmis of former times, was probably allied to, or connected with, the Irish greyhound. It hunted entirely by sight, and, if its prey was lost for a time, it could recover it by a singular distinguishing faculty. Should the deer rejoin the herd, the dog would uuerringly select him again from all his companions : — " Seest thou the gasehound how with glance severe From the close herd he marks the destined deer?"* There is no dog possessed of this quality at present known in Europe ; but the translator of Arrian thinks that it might be produced between the Irish greyhound and the bloodhound. THE IRISH WOLF-DOG. This animal is nearly extinct, or only to be met with at the mansions of one or two persons, by whom he is kept more for show than use, the wild animals which he seemed powerful enough to conquer having long disappeared from the king- dom. The beauty of his appearance and the antiquity of his I'ace are his only claims, as he disdains the chace of stag, fox, or hare, although he is ever ready to protect the person and the pro- perty of his master. His size is various, some having attained the height of four feet ; and Dr. Goldsmith states that he saw one as large as a yearling calf. He is shaped like a greyhound, but stouter ; and the only dog which the writer from whom this account is taken ever saw approaching to his graceful figure, combining beauty with strength, is the large Spanish wolf- dog : concerning which he adds, that, showing one of these Spanish dogs to some friends, he leaped through a window into a cow-house, where a valuable calf was Ipng, and seizing the terrified animal, killed it in an instant; some sheep having in the same way disappeared, he was given away. The same writer says that his grandfather had an Irish wolf-dog which saved his mother's life from a wolf as she was paying a visit attended by this faithful follower. He rushed on his foe * Sp vol. xi. p. 31 1. 246 just when he was about to make his spring, and, after a fierce struggle, laid him dead at his mis- tress's feet. His name was Bran.* THE RUSSIAN GREYHOUND is principally distinguished by its dark-brown or iron-grey colour, its short semi-erect ears, its thin lanky body, long but muscular legs, soft thick hair, and the hair of its tail forming a spiral twist or fan (thence called the fan-tailed dog), and as he runs having a very pleasing appearance. He hunts by scent as well as by sight, and therefore small packs of this kind are sometimes kept, against which the wolf, or even the bear, would stand little chance. He is principally used for the chaee of the deer or the wolf, but occasionally follows the hare. The deer is the principal object of pursuit, and for this he is far better adapted than to contend with the ferocious wolf. His principal faults are want of activity and dexterity. He is met with in most parts of Russia, where his breed is carefully preserved by the nobility, with whom coursing is a favourite diversion. Some dogs of this breed were not long ago introduced into Ireland. THE GRECIAN GREYHOUND. The author is glad that he is enabled to present his readers with the portrait of one from the menagerie of the Zoological Society of London. It is the dog whose image is occasionally sculptured on the friezes of some of the ancient Grecian temples, and was doubtless a faithful portrait of one of the dogs which Xenophon the Athenian valued, and was the companion of the heroes of Greece in her ancient gloiy. THE GKECIiN GHEVHOUXD. The principal difference between the Grecian and the English greyhound is, that the former is not so large, the muzzle is not so pointed, and the limbs are not so finely framed. THE TURKISH GREYHOUND is a small-sized hairless dog, or wth only a few hairs on his tail. He is never used in the field, and bred only as a spoiled pet, yet not always spoiled, for anecdotes are related of his inviolable * Sporting Mag , 1837, p. lo6. attachment to his owner. One of them belonged to a Turkish Pacha who was destroyed by the bow- string. He would not forsake the corpse, but laid himself down by the body of his murdered master, and presently expired. THE PERSIAN GREYHOUND is a beautiful animal. He is more delicately framed than the English breed ; the ears are also more pendulous, and feathered almost as much as those of a King Charles's spaniel. Notwith- standing, however, his apparent slenderness and 247 delicacy, he yields not in courage, and scarcelj' in strength, to the British dog. There are few kennels in which he is found in which he is not the master. In his native country he is not only used for hunting the hare, but the antelope, the wild ass, and even the boar. The autelojie is speedier than the greyhound ; therefore the hawk is given to him as an ally. The antelope is no sooner started than the hawk is cast otf, who, fluttering before the head of the deer, and, sometimes darting his talons into his head, disconcerts him, and enables the greyhound speedily to overtake and master him. The chace, however, in which the Persians chiefly delight, and for which these greyhounds are mostly valued, is that of the (/hoo-khan, or wild ass. This animal inhabits the mountainous dis- tricts of Persia. He is swift, ferocious, and of great endurance, which, together with the nature of the ground, renders this sport exceedingly dan- gerous. The hunter scarcely gives the animal a fair chance, for relays of greyhounds are placed at various distances iu the surrounding country ; so that, when those by which the animal is first started are tired, there are others to continue the chace. Such, however, is the speed and endurance of the ghoo-khan, that it is seldom fairly run down by the greyhounds, its death being usually achieved by the rifle of some horseman. The Persians evince great skill and courage in this dangerous sport, galloping at full speed, rifle iu hand, up and down the most precipitous hills, and across ravines and mountain streams that might well daunt the boldest rider.* The Persian greyhound, carried to Hiudoostan, is not always to be depended upon, but, it is said, is apt to console itself by hunting its own master, or any one else, when the game proves too fleet or escapes into the cover. THE ITALIAN GREYHOUND possesses all the symmetry of the English or Persian one on a small scale. So far as beauty can recommend it, and, generally speaking, good- nature, it is deservedly a favourite in the drawing- room ; but, like the large greyhound, it is inferior iu intelligence. It has no strong individual attachment, but changes it with singular facility. It is not, however, seen to advantage in its petted and degraded state, but has occasionally proved a not unsuccessful courser of the rabbit and the hare, and exhibited no small share of speed and perse- verance. In a country, however, the greater part of which is infested with wolves, it cannot be of much service, but exposed to unnecessary danger. It is bred along the coasts of Italy, principally for the purpose of sale to foreigners. In order to acquire more perfect beauty of form, and more activity also, the English grey- hound has received one cross from the Italian, and with decided advantage. The speed and the beauty have been evidently increased, and the courage and stoutness have not been diminished. It has been said that Frederick the Great of Prussia was very fond of a small Italian greyhound, and used to carry it about with him under his cloak. During the seven years' war he was pur- sued by a party of Austrian dragoons, and compelled to take shelter, with his favourite, under the diy arch of a bridge. Had the little animal, that was naturally ill-tempered and noisy, once barked, the monarch would have been taken prisoner, and the fate of the campaign and of Prussia decided ; but it lay perfectly still, and clung close to its master, as if conscious of their mutual danger. When it died, it was buried in the gardens of the palace at Berlin, and a suitable inscription placed over its grave. CHAPTEE III. THE VARIETIES OF THE DOG. — SECOND DIVISTOX. The head moderately elongated, the parietah not approaching from their insertion, hut rather diverging, so as to enlarge the cerehral cavities and the frontal sinuses ; consequently giving to these dogs greater poiver of scent and in- telligence. They constitute the most jileasing and valuable division of the Dog. The Spaniel is evidently the parent of the Newfoundland dog and the setter ; while the retriever, the poodle, the Bernardine, the Esqui- maux, the Siberian, and the Greenland dogs, the * New Sports. Mag., xiii. 121. shepherd and drover's dog, and eveiy variety dis- tinguished for intelligence and fidelity, have more or less of his blood in them. THE SPANIEL is probably of Spanish origin, and thence his name. The ears are large and pendent, the tail elevated, the fur of a different length in different I parts of the body, but longest about the ears, I under the neck, behind the thighs and on the tail, I varying in colour, but most commonly white with I brown or black patches. 482 JLKNHEIMS mere are many varieties of tlie spaniel. Tlie smallest of the land spaniels is THE COCKER. It is chiefly used in flushing woodcocks and pheasants in thickets and copses into which the setter, and even the springer, can scarcely enter. "But if the shady woods my cares employ. In quest of feathered game my spaniels beat, Puzzling the entangled copse, and from the brake Push forth the whirring pheasant." The cocker is here very useful, although he is occasionally an exceedingly impatient animal. He is apt to whimper and babble as soon as he comes upon the scent of game, and often raises the bird before the sportsman is within reach : but when he is sufHciently broken in not to give tongue until the game rises he is exceedingly valuable. There can scarcely be a prettier object than this little creature, full of activity, and bustling in eveiy direction, with his tail erect, and, the moment he scents the bird, expressing his delight by the quivering of every limb, and the low eager whim- pering which the best breaking cannot always subdue. Presently the bird springs, and then he shrieks out his ecstasy, startling even the sportsman with his sharp, shrill, and strangely expressive bark. The most serious objection to the use of the cocker is the difficulty of teaching him to distin- guish his game, and confine himself within bounds ; for he will too often flush every thing that comes within his reach. It is often the practice to attach bells to his collar, that the sportsman may know where he is ; but there is an inconvenience connected with this, that the noise of the bells will often disturb and spring the game before the dog comes fairly upon it. Patience and perseverance, with a due mixture of Idndness and correction, will, however, accom- plish a great deal in the tuition of the well-bred spaniel. He may at first hunt about after every bird that presents itself, or chase the interdicted game ; but if he is immediately called in and rated, or perhaps corrected, but not too severely, he will learn his proper lesson, and will recognise tlie game to which alone his attention must be directed. The grand secret in breaking in these dogs is mildness mingled with perseverance, the lessons being enforced and practically illustrated by the example of an old and steady dog. These spaniels will sometimes vie with almost every other species of dog in intelligence, and will not yield to one of them in fidelity. A gentleman in Sussex had an old cocker, that was his constant campanion both in tlie house and the field. If the morning was rainy the dog was perfectly quiet ; if it was fine he became restless, and, at the usual time for his master to go out, he would take him by the flap of his coat, and gently pull at it. If the door was opened, he ran immediately to the keeper's lodge, which was at a considerable dis- tance from the house. This was a signal for the other dogs to be brought up, and than he trotted back to announce their approach. 249 THE KING CHARLES'S SPANIEL, SO called from the fondness of Charles II. for it — who usually had some of them following him, wherever he went — belongs likewise to the cockers. Its form and character are well preserved in one of the paintings of the unfortunate parent of that monarch and his family. The ears deeply fringed and sweeping the ground, the rounder form of the forehead, the larger and moister eye, the^longer and silken coat, and the clearness of the tan, and white and black colour, sufficiently distinguish this variety. His beauty and diminutive size have consigned him to the drawing-room or parlour. Charles the First had a breed of spaniels, very small, with the hair black and curly. The spaniel of the second Charles was of the black and tan breed. The King Charles's breed of the present day is materially altered for the worse. The muzzle is almost as short, and the forehead as ugly and prominent, as the veriest bull-dog. The eye is increased to double its former size, and has an expression of stupidity with which the character of the dog too accurately corresponds. Still there is the long ear, and the silky coat, and the beauti- ful colour of the hair, and for these the dealers do not scruple to ask twenty, thirty, and even fifty guineas. THE SPRINGER. This dog is slower and steadier in its range than the cocker ; but it is a much safer dog for the shooter, and can better stand a hard day's work. The largest and best breed of springers is said to be in Sussex, and is much esteemed in the Wealds of that county. From a cross with the terrier, a black and tan variety was procured, which was cultivated by the late Duke of Norfolk, and thence called the Nor- folk Spaniel. It is lai-ger than the common springer, and stancher, and stouter. It often forms a strong individual attachment, and is un- happy and pines away when separated from its master. It is more ill-tempered than the common springer, and, if not well broken in, is often exceedingly obstinate. THE BLACK AND TAN SPANIEL, the cross of the terrier being nearly or quite got rid of, is often a beautiful animal, and is much valued, although it is frequently considered a some- what stupid animal. The cocker and the springer are sometimes used as finders in coursing. THE BLENHEIM SPANIEL, a breed cultivated by one of the Dukes of Marl- borough, belongs to this division. From its beauty, and occasional gaiety, it is oftener an inhabitant of the drawing-room than the field; but it occa- sionally breaks out, and shows what nature ( it for. Some of these carpeted pets acquit them- selves nobly in the covert. There they ought oftener to be ; for they have not much individuality of attachment to recommend them, and, like other spoiled animals, both quadruped and biped, mis- behave. The breed has degenerated of late, and is not always to be had pure, even in the neigh- bourhood of Blenheim. This spaniel may be distinguished by the length and silkiness of the coat, the deep fringe about the ear, the aiT.h and deep-feathering of the tail, the full and moist eye, and the blackness of the palate. THE WATERSPANIEL. Of this breed there are two varieties, a larger and smaller, both useful according to the degree of range or the work required ; the smaller, how- ever, being ordinarily preferable. Whatever be his general size, strength and compactness of form are requisite. His head is long, his face smooth, and his limbs, more developed than those of the springer, should be muscular, his carcase round, and his hair long and closely curled. Good breaking is more necessary here than even with the land-spaniel, and, fortunately, it is more easily accomplished; for the water-spaniel, although a stouter, is a more docile animal than the land one. Docility and affection are stamped on his countenance, and he rivals every other breed ia his attachment to his master. His work is double ; first to find, when ordered so to do, and to back behind the sportsman when the game will be more advantageously trodden up. In both he must be taught to be perfectly obedient to the voice, that he may be kept within range, and not unnecessarily disturb the birds. A more important part of his duty, however, is to find and bring the game that has dropped. To teach him to find is easy enough, for a young water-spaniel will as readily take to the water as a pointer puppy will stop; but to bring his game without tearing is a more difiicult lesson, and the most difficult of all is to make him suspend the pursuit of the wounded game while the sportsman re-loads. The water-spaniel was originally from Spain ; but the pure breed has been lost, and the present dog is probably descended from the large water- dog and the English setter. The water and land spaniels differ materially from each other. The water-spaniel, although when at his work being all that his master can desire, is, when unemployed, comparatively a slow and inactive dog ; but under this sobriety of demeanour is concealed a strength and fidelity of attachment to which the more lively land- spaniel cannot always lay just claim. The writer of this work once saved a young water-spaniel from the persecution of a crowd of people who had 250 , s4 ^•^^•^tJOi- THE WATEK-SFANIF.I.. driven it into a passage, and were pelting it with stones. The animal had ^ the character of being, contrary to what his species usually are, exceed- ingly savage ; and he suffered himself to be taken up by me and carried from his foes with a kind of sullenness ; but when, being out of the reach of danger, he was put down, he gazed on his deliverer, and then crouched at his feet. From that moment he attached himself to his new master with an intensity of affection scarcely conceivable — never expressed by any boistei'ous caresses, but by endeavouring to be in some man- ner in contact with him ; resting his head upou his foot ; lying upon some portion of his apparel, his ej-e intently fixed upon him, endeavouring to understand every expression of his countenance. He would follow one gentleman, and one only, to the river-side, and behave gallantly and nobly there ; but the moment he was dismissed he would scamper home, gaze upon his master, and lay him- self down at his feet. In one of these excursions he was shot. He crawled home, reached his master's feet, and expired in the act of licking his hand. Perhaps the author may be permitted to relate one story more of the water-spaniel : he pledges himself for its perfect truth. The owner of the dog is telling this tale. " I was once on the sea- coast, when a small, badly-formed, and leaky fishing-boat was cast on shore, on a fearful reef of rocks. Three men and a boy of ten years old constituted the crew. The men swam on shore, but they were so bruised against the rocks, that they could not render any assistance to the poor boy, and no person could be found to venture out in any way. I heard the noise, and went to the spot with my dog. I spoke to him, and in he went, more like a seal than a dog ; and after several fruitless attempts to mount the wreck, he succeeded, and laid hold of the boy, who clung to the ropes, screaming in the most fearful way at being thus dragged into the water. The waves dashed frightfully on the rocks. In the anxiety and responsibility of the moment I thought that the dog had missed him, and I stripped off my clothes, resolved to render what assistance I could. I was just in the act of springing from the shore, having selected the moment when the receding waves gave me the best chance of rendering any assistance, when I saw old ' Bagsman,' for that was the name of my dog, with the struggling boy in his mouth, and the head uppermost. I rushed to the place where he must land, and the waves bore the boy and the dog into my arms. " Some time after that I was shooting wild- fowl. I and my dog had been working hard, and I left him behind me while I went to a neighbour- ing town to purchase gunpowder. A man, in a drunken frolic, had pushed off in a boat wth a girl in it ; the tide going out, carried the boat quickly away, and the man becoming frightened, and unable to swim, jumped overboard. Bagsman, who was on tlie spot, hearing the splash, jumped in. swam out to the man, caught hold of him, and brought him twenty or thirty yards towards the shore, when the drunken fellow clasped the dog tight round the body, and they both went down together. The girl was saved by a boat going to her assistance. The body of the man was recovered about an hour afterwards, with that of the dog clasped tight in his arms, thus dragging him to the bottom. ' Poor Bagsman ! thy worth deserves to be thus chronicled.' " THE POODLE. The particular cross from which this dog descended is unknown, but the variety produced has been carefully pi'eserved. It is, probably, of continental origin, and is known by its thick curly hair concealing almost every part of the face, and giving it the appearance of a short, thick, unintelli- gent head. When, however, that hair is removed, DOG. 25J there is still the large head ; but there is also the cerebral cavity more capacious than in any other dog, and the frontal sinuses fully developed, and exhibiting every indication of the intellectual class to which it belongs. It was originally a water-dog, as its long and cm-ly hair, and its propensities in its domesticated state, prove ; but, from its peculiar sagacity, it is capable of being trained to almost any useful pur- pose, and its strong individual attachment renders it more the companion of man than a mere sport- ing dog : indeed, its qualities as a sporting dog are seldom recognised by its owner. These dogs have far more courage than the water-spaniel, all the sagacity of the Newfoundland, more general talent, if the expression may be used, and more individual attachment than eitlier of them, and without the fawning of the one, or the submissiveness of the other. The poodle seems conscious of his worth, and there is often a quiet dignity accompanying his demonstrations of friendship. THE POODLE. This dog, however, possesses a veij peculiar kind of intelligence. It will almost perform the common offices of a servant : it will ring the bell and open the door. Mr. Wilkie, of Ladythorn in Northumberland, had a poodle which he had instructed to go through all the apparent agonies of dying. He would fall on one side, stretch himself out, and move his hind legs as if he were in great pain ; he would next simulate the con- vulsive throbs of departing life, and then stretch out his limlis and thus seem as if he had expired. In this situation he would remain motionless, until he had his master's command to rise. The portrait of Sancho, a poodle, that was 252 THE DOG, with difficulty forced from the grave of his master, after the battle of Salamanca, is familiar to many of our readers. Enticed from his post he could not he, nor was he at length taken away until weakened by grief and starvation. He by degrees attached himself to his new master, the Marquis of Worcester, but not with the natural ardour of a poodle. He was attentive to every command, and could perform many little domestic offices. Some- times he would exhibit considerable buoyancy of spirit ; but there oftener seemed to be about him the recollection of older and closer friendship. Another poodle occupies an interesting place in the history of the Peninsular war. He too belonged to a French officer, who was killed at the battle of Castella. The French were com- pelled to retreat before they could bury their dead, and the soldiers wished to carry with them this regimental favourite ; but he would not be forced from the corpse of his master. Some soldiers afterwards traversing the field of battle, one of them discovered the cross of the Legion of Honour on the breast of the fallen officer, and stooped to take it away, when the dog flew savagely at him, and would not quit his hold, until the bayonet of another soldier laid him lifeless. A veterinaiy surgeon, who, before any other animal than the horse was acknowledged to be the legitimate object of medical care, did not disdain to attend to the diseases of the dog, used to say that there were two breeds which he never wished to see in his infirmary, namely, the poodle and the Norfolk spaniel ; for, although not always difficult to manage, he could never attach them to him, but they annoyed him by their pitiful and imploring gaze during the day, and their mourn- ful howling at night. Custom has determined that the natural coat of this animal shall be taken from him. It may he a relief to the poodle for a part of his coat to be stripped off in hot weather, and the curley hair which is left on his chest, contrasted with his smooth and well-rounded loins and quarters, may make it look pretty enough; but it should be remembered that he was not designed by nature to be thus exposed to the cold of winter, and that there are no dogs so liable to rheumatism, and that rheumatism degenerating into palsy, as the well-trimmed poodle. THE BARBET is a small poodle, the production of some unknown and disadvantageous cross with the true poodle. It has all the sagacity of the poodle, and will perform even more than his tricks. It is always in action ; always fidgety ; generally incapable of much affection, but inheriting much self-love and occasional ill temper ; unmanageable by any one but its owner ; eaten up with red mange ; and frequently a nuisance to its master and a torment to every one else. We must not, however, do it injustice ; it is very intelligent, and truly attached to its owner. The barbet possesses more sagacity than most other dogs, but it is sagacity of a particular kind, and frequently connected with various amusing tricks. Mr. Jesse, in his Gleanings in Natural History, gives a singular illustration of this. A friend of his had a barbet that was not always under proper command. In order to keep him in better order, he purchased a small whip, with which he corrected him once or twice during a walk. On his return the whip was put on a table in the hall, but on the next morning it was missing. It was soon afterwards found concealed in an out- building, and again made use of in correcting the dog. Once more it would have been lost, but, on watching the dog, who was suspected of having stolen it, he was seen to take it from the hall table in order to hide it once more. THE MALTESE DOG can be traced back to an early period. Strabo says that " there is a town in Sicily called Melita, whence are exported many beautiful dogs called Canes MeUtcei. They were the peculiar favourites of the women; but now (a.d. 25) there is less account made of these animals, which are not bigger than common ferrets or weasels, yet they are not small in understanding nor unstable in their love." They are also found in Malta and in other islands of the Mediterranean, and they maintain the same character of being devotedly affectionate to their owners, while, it is added — and they are not loved the less for that — they are ill-tempered to strangers. THE LION DOG is a diminutive likeness of the noble animal whose name it bears. Its head, neck, shoulders, and fore-legs down to the very feet, are covered with long, wavy, silky hairs. On the other parts of the dog it is so short as scarcely to be grasped, except that on the tail there is a small bush of hair. -The origin of this breed is not known : it is, perhaps, an intermediate one between the Maltese and the Turkish dog. THE TURKISH DOG, as it is improperly called, is a native of hot climates. The supposition of Buffon is not an improbable one, that, being taken from some temperate country to one considerably hotter, the European dog probably acquired some cutaneous disease. This is no uncommon occurrence in Guinea, the East Indies, and South America. Some of these animals aftei-wards found their way into Europe, and, from their singularity, care was taken to multiiily the breed. AldrovanJus states that the first two of them made their appearance in Europe in his time, but the breed was not continued, on account, as it was supposed, of the climate being too cold for them. The few that are occasionally seen in England bear about them every mark of a degenerated race. They have no activity, and ihey show little intelligence or affection. One singular circum- stance appertains to all that the author of this work has had the opportunity of seeing, — their teeth became very early diseased, and drop from the gums. That eminent zoologist, Mr. Yarrell, examining, with the author of this work, one that had died, certainly not more than five years old, found that it had neither incisors nor canine teeth, and that the molars were reduced to one on each side, the large tubercular tooth being the only one that was remaining. At the scientific meeting at the Zoological Society, the same gentlemen stated, that he had examined the mouths of two individuals of the same variety, then alive at the gardens, in both of which the teeth were remark- ably deficient. In neither of them were there any false molars, and the incisors in both were deficient in number. Before the age of four years the tongue is usually disgustingly hanging "from the mouths of these animals. #■.- ftSflSrf'i-i THE ALPINE SP.\NIEL, OR BERN.IRDI.NE DOG, is a breed almost peculiar to the Alps, and to the district between Switzerland and Savoy. The passes over these mountains are exceedingly dangerous from their steepness and narrowness. A precipice of many hundred feet is often found on one side, and perpendicular rocks on the other, while the path is glazed with frozen snow or ice. In many places the path is overhung with huge masses of frozen snow, which occasionally loosen and fall, when the dreadful storms peculiar to these regions suddenly come on, and form an insurmountable barrier, or sweep away or bui'y the unfortunate traveller. Should he escape these dangers, the path is now become trackless, and he wanders amid the dreary solitudes until night overtakes him ; and then, when he pauses from fatigue or uncertainty with regard to the path he should pursue, his limbs are speedily benumbed. Fatal slumbers, which he cannot shake off, steal upon him, and he crouches under some ledge, and Q 25-i sleeps, to wake no more. The snow drifts on. It is almost continually falling, and he is soon con- cealed from all human help. On the top of Mount St. Bernard, and near one of the most dangerous of these passes, is a convent, in which is preserved a breed of large dogs trained to search for the benighted and fro- zen wanderer. Every night, and particularly when the wind blows tempestuously, some of these dogs are sent out. They traverse eveiy path about the mountains, and their scent is so exquisite that they can discover the traveller, although he may lie many feet deep in the snow. Having found him, they set to work and endeavour to scrape away the snow, uttering a deep bark that reverbe- rates from rock to rock, and tells those who are watching in the convent that some poor wretch is in peril. Generally, a little tlask of spirits is tied round the neck of the animal, by drinking which the benighted traveller may recruit his strength, until more effectual rescue arrive. The monks hasten in the direction of the sound, and often succeed in rekindling the vital spark before it is quite extinguished. Very many travellers have been thus rescued from death by these benevolent men and their intelligent and inter- esting quadruped servants. One of these Bernardino dogs, named Barry, had a medal tied round his neck as a badge of honourable distinction, for he had saved the lives of forty persons. He at length died nobly in his vocation. A Piedmontese courier arrived at St. Beniard on a very stormy day, labouring to make his way to the little village of St. Pierre, in the valley beneath the mountain, where his wife and children lived. It was in vain that the monks attempted to check his resolution to reach his family. They at last gave him two guides, each of whom was accompanied by a dog, one of which was the remarkable creature whose services had been so valuable. Descending from the convent they were overwhelmed by two avalanches or heaps of falling snow, and the same destruction awaited the family of the poor courier, who were travelling up the mountain in the hope of obtaining some news of the husband and father. A beautiful engraving has been made of this noble dog. It represents him as saving a child which he had found in the Glacier of Balsore, and cherished, and warmed, and induced to climb upon his shoulders, and thus preserved from, otherwise, certain destruction. THE NEWFOUNDLAND DOG. The Newfoundland is a spaniel of large size. He is a native of the island of which he bears the name ; but his history is disgraceful to the owners of so valuable an animal. The employ- ment of the lower classes of the inhabitants of St. John, in Newfoundland, is divided between the cutting of wood, and the drawing of it and other merchandise in the winter, and fishing in the summer. The carts used in the winter work are drawn by these dogs, who are almost invariably urged and goaded on beyond their strength, fed only with putrid salt-fish, and an inadequate quantity even of that. A great many of them are worn out and die before the winter is over ; and, when the summer approaches, and the fishing season commences, many of them are quite abandoned, and, uniting with their companions, prowl about preying on the neighbouring flocks, or absolutely starving. ]\Ir. Macgregor, however, states that " in almost every other part of British America they are valuable and useful. They are remarkably docile and obedient to their masters, serviceable in all the fishing countries, and yoked in pairs to draw the winter's fuel home. They are faithful, good-natured, and ever friendly to man. They will defend their master and their master's pro- perty, and suffer no person to injure either the one or the other ; and, however extreme may be the danger, they will not leave them for a minute. They seem only to want the faculty of speech, in order to make their good wishes and feelings understood, and they are capable of being trained for all the purposes for which every other variety of the canine species is used."* That which most recommends the Newfound- land dog is his fearlessness of water, and particu- larly as connected with the preservation of human life. The writer of the present work knows one of these animals that has preserved from drowning four human beings. A native of Germany was travelling one evening on foot through Holland, accompanied by a large dog. Walking on a high bank which formed one side of a dyke, his foot slipped, and he was precipitated into the water ; and, being un- able to swim, soon became senseless. When he recovered his recollection, he found himself in a cottage on the contraiy side of the dyke, sur- rounded by peasants, who had been using the means for the recovery of drowned persons. The account given by one of them was, that returning liome from his labour, he observed at a consider- able distance a large dog in the water, swimming and dragging, and sometimes pushing along some- thing that he seemed to have great difficulty in supporting, but which he at length succeeded in getting into a small creek on the opposite side. When the animal had pulled what he had hitherto supported as far out of the water as he was able, the peasant discovered that it was the body of a man, whose face and hands the dog was indus- * Historical and Descriptive Sketches of British America, by J. Macgregor. «55 triously Helving. The peasant liiislened tn n Lridge across the dyke, and, liaviug obtained assistance, the body was conveyed to a neighbour- ing house, where proper means soon restored the drowned man to life. Two very considerable bruises, with the marks of teeth, appeared, one on his shoulder, and the other on his poll ; hence it was presumed that the faithful beast had first seized his master by the shoulder, and swam with him in this manner for some time, but that his sagacity had prompted him to quit this hold, and ;o shift it to the nape of the neck, by which he iad been enabled to support the liead out of water ; and in this way he had conveyed liim nearly a quarter of a mile before he had brought him to the creek, where the banks were low and accessible. Dr. Beattie relates an instance of a gentleman attempting to cross the river Dee, then frozen over, near Aberdeen. The ice gave way about the middle of the river; but, having a gun in his hand, he supported himself by placing it across the opening. His dog then ran to a neighbouring village, where, with the most significant gestures, he pulled a man by the coat, and prevailed ou him to follow him. They arriveil at the spot just in lime to save the drowning man's life. Of the noble disposition of the Newfoundland dog. Dr. Abel, in one of his lectures on Phreno- logy, relates a singular instance. " When this dog left his master's house, he was often assailed by a number of little noisy dogs in the street. He usually passed them with apparent unconcern, as if they were beneath his notice ; but one little cur was particularly troublesome, and at length carried his impudence so far as to bite the Newfoundland dog in the leg. This was a degree of wanton insult beyond what he could patiently endure ; and he instantly turned round, ran after the offender, and seized him by the skin of the back. In this way he carried him in his mouth to the quay, and holding him some time over the water, at length dropped him into it. He did not, how- ever, seem to design that the culprit should be punished capitally. He waited a little while, until the poor animal, who was unused to that element, was not only well ducked, but nearly sinking, and then plunged in, and brought him safe to land." " It would be difficult," says Dr. Hancock, "in Q '-^ 25G his Essay on Instinct, "to "conceive any piuiish- ment more aptly contrived, or more completely in character. Indeed, if it were fully analyzed, an ample commentary might be written in order to show what a variety of comparisons and motives and genei-oiis feelings entered into the composition of this act." No one ever drew more legitimate consequences from certain existing premises. One other story should not he omitted of this noble breed of water-dogs. A vessel was driven on the beach of Lydd, in Kent. The surf was rolling furiously. Eight poor fellows were crying for help, but not a boat could be got off to their assistance. At length a gentleman came on the beach, accompanied by his Newfoundland dog ; he directed the attention of the animal to the vessel, and put a short stick into his mouth. The intel- ligent and courageous fellow at once understood his meaning, sprung into the sea, and fought his way through the waves. He could not, however, get close enough to the vessel to deliver that with which he was charged ; but the crew understood what was meant, and they made fast a rope to another piece of wood, and threw it towards him. The noble beast dropped his own piece of wood, and immediately seized that which had been cast to him, and then, with a degree of strength and determination scarcely credible — for he was again and again lost under the waves — he dragged it through the surge and delivered it to his master. A line of communication was thus formed, and every man on board was rescued. There is, however, a more remarkable fact re- corded in the Penny Magazine. " During a heavy gale a ship had struck on a rock near the land. The only chance of escape for the shipwrecked was to get a rope ashore ; for it was impossible for any boat to live in the sea as it was then rumiing. There were two Newfoundland dogs and a bull- dog on board. One of the Newfoundland dogs was thrown overboard, with a rope thrown round him, and perished in the waves. The second shared a similar fate : but the bull-dog fought his way through that terrible sea, and, arriving safe on shore, rope and all, became the saviour of the crew." Some of the true Newfoundland dogs have been brought to Europe, and have been used as retrievers. They are prhicipally valuable for the fearless manner in which they will penetrate the thickest cover. They are comparatively small, but muscular, strong, and generally black. A larger variety has been bred, and is now perfectly established. He is seldom used as a sporting dog, or for draught, but is admired on account of his stature and beauty, and the different colours with which he is often marked. Perhaps he is not quite so good-natured and manageable as the smaller variety, and yet it is not often that much fault can be found with him on this account. A noble animal of this kind was presented to the Zoological Society, by His Royal Highness Prince Albert. He was a great ornament to the gardens ; but he had been somewhat unmanage- able, and had done some mischief before he was sent thither. A portion of Lord Byron's beautiful epitaph on the death of his Newfoundland dog will pro- perly close our account of this animal : — " The poor dog ! in life tlie finuest friend, The tii-st to welcome, foremost to defend ; ■RTiose honest heart is still his master's own ; Who labours fights, lives, breathes, for him alone." THE ESQUIMAUX DOG is a beast of burden and of draught, usefully em- ployed by the inhabitants of the extreme parts of North America and the neighbouring islands. When the Esquimaux Indian goes in piu'suit of the seal, the rein-deer, or the bear, his dogs carry the materials of his temporaiy hut, and the few necessaries of his simple life ; or, yoked to the sledge, often draw him and his family full sixty miles a-day over the frozen plains of these in hospitable regions. At other times they assist in the chace, and run down and destroy the bear and the reiu-deer on land, and the seal on the coast. Their journeys are often without any certain object ; but, if the dogs scent the deer or the bear, they gallop away in that direction until their prey is within reach of the driver, or they are enabled to assist in destroying their foe. Captain Parry, in his Journal of a Second Voyage for the Dis- coveiy of a North- West Passage, gives an amusing account of these expeditions. " A number of dogs, valuing from sk to twelve, are attached to each sledge by means of a single trace, but with no reins. An old and tried dog is placed as the leader, who, in their simple journeys, and when the chace is the object, steadily obeys the voice of the driver sitting in front of the sledge, with a whip long enough to reach the leader. This whip, however, is used as seldom as possible ; for these dogs, although tractable, are ferocious, and will endure little coiTcction. When the whip is applied with severity on one, he falls upon and worries his neighbour, and he, in his turn, attacks a third, and there is a scene of universal confusion ; or the dogs double from side to side to avoid the whip, and the traces become entangled, and the safety of the sledge endangered. The carriage must then be stopped, each dog put into his proper place, and the traces re-adjusted. This frequently happens several times in the course of the day. The driver, therefore, depends princi- pally on the docility of the leader, who, with ad- mirable precision, quickens or slackens his pace, and starts off or stops, or turns to the right or left, at the summons of his master. When they are journeying homeward, or travelling to some spot to which the leader has heen accustomed to go, he is generally suffered to pursue his own course; for although every trace of the road is lost in the drifting snow, he scents it out, and follows it with undeviating accuracy. Even the leader, however, is not always under the control of his master. If the journey lies homeward, he -will go his own i)ace, and that is usually at the top of his speed ; or, if any game starts, or he scents it at a distance, no command of his driver will re- strain him. Neither the dog nor his master is half civilized or subdued." Each of these dogs will draw a weight of 120 lbs. over the snow, at the rate of seven or eight miles an hour. In summei-, many of these dogs are used as beasts of burden, and each carries from thirty to fifty pounds. They are then much better kept than in the winter ; for they have the remains of the whale and sea-calf, which their masters disdain to eat. The majority, however, are sent adrift in the summer, and they live on the produce of the chace or of their constant thievery. The exactness with which — the summer being past — each returns to his master, is an admirable proof of sagacity, and frequently of attachment. In some parts of Siberia, on the borders of the Oby, there are established relays of dogs, like the post-horses in other countries. Four of these are attached to a very light vehicle ; but, when much haste is required, or any very heavy goods are to be conveyed, more than treble or quadruple that number are harnessed to the vehicle. M. de Lesseps* gives an almost incredible account of this. He is speaking of the voracity of these poor beasts, in the midst of the snowy desert, with little or no food. " We had unharnessed our dogs, iu order to bring them closer together, in the ordi- nary way ; but, the moment they were brought up to the pole, they seized their harness, constructed of the thickest and toughest leather, and tore it to pieces, and devoured it. It was in vain that we attempted every means of restraint. A great number of them escaped into the wilds around, others wandered here and there, and seized every- thing that came within their reach, and which their teeth could destroy. Almost every minute some one of them fell exhausted, and immediately became the prey of the others. Every one that could get within reach struggled for his share. Every limb was disputed, and torn away by a troop of rivals, who attacked all within their reach. As soon as one fell by exhaustion or accident, he was seized by a dozen others, and destroyed in the space of a few minutes. In order to defend ourselves from this crowd of famished beasts, we were compelled to have recourse to our bludgeons and our swords. , lounml Historiqiii 3 vols. — tome 1. ila Vt.yage de M. de Lesseps. Paris • 2:;8 To this liorrible scene of mutual clestmctioii suc- ceeded, on the follo\\ing dny, the sad appearance of those that surrounded the sledge, to which we had retreated for safety and for warmth. They were thin, and starved, and niiseraMe ; they could scarcely move ; their plaintive and continual howlings seemed to claim our succour; but there was no possibility of relieving them in the slightest degree, except that some of them crept to the opening in our carriage through which tlae smoke escapes ; and the more they felt the warmth the closer they crept, and then, through mere feeble- ness, losing their equilibrium, they rolled into the fire before our eyes." These dogs are not so high as the common pointer, but much larger and stouter, although their thick hair, three or four inches long in the winter, gives them an appearance of more stoutness than they possess. Under this hair is a coating of fine close soft wool, which begins to grow in the early part of winter, and drops off in the spring. Their muzzles are sharj) and generally black, and their ears erect. The Greenland, and Siberian, and Kamtschat- dale, are varieties of the Esquimaux or Arctic dogs, but enlarged in form, and better subdued. The docility of some of these is equal to that of any European breed. A person of the name of Chabert, who was afterwards better known by the title of " Fire King," had a beautiful Siberian dog, who would draw him in a light carriage 20 miles a-day. He asked f 'iOO for him, and sold him for a consider- able portion of that sum ; for he was a most beautiful animal of his kind, and as docile as he was beautiful. Between the sale and the delivery the dog fell and broke his leg. Chabert, to whom the price agreed on was of immense consequence, was in despair. He took the dog at night to a veterinary surgeon. He formally introduced them to each other. He talked to the dog, pointed to his leg, limped around the room, then requested the surgeon to apply some bandages around the leg, and he seemed to walk sound and well. He patted the dog on the head, who was looking alternately at him and the surgeon, desired the surgeon to pat him, and to offer him his hand to lick, and then, holding up his finger to the dog, and, gently shaking his head, quitted the room and the house. The dog immediately laid himself down, and submitted to a reduction of the fracture, and the bandaging of the limb, without a motion, except once or twice licking the hand of the operator. He was quite submissive, and m a manner motionless, day after day, until, at the expiration of a month, the limb was sound. Not a trace of the fracture was to be detected, and the purchaser, who is now living, knew nothing about it. The employment of the Esquimaux dogs is nearly the same as those from Newfoundland, and most valuable they are to the traveller who has to find his way over the wild and trackless regions of the north. The manner, however, in which they are generally treated seems ill calcu- lated to cause any strong or lasting attachment. During their period of labour, they, like their brethren in Newfoundland, are fed sparingly on putrid fish, and in summer they are turned loose to shift for themselves until the return of the severe season renders it necessary to their mas- ters' interest that they should again be sought for, and once more reduced to their state of toil and slavery. They have been known for several successive days to travel more than 60 miles. They seldom miss their road, although they may be driven over one untrodden snowy plain, where they are occa- sionally unable to reach any place of shelter. When, however, night comes, they partake with their master of the scanty fare which the sledge will afford, and, crowding round, keep him warm and defend him from danger. If any of them fall victims to the hai'dships to which they are exposed, their master or their companions frequently feed on their remains, and their skins are converted into warm and comfortable dresses. THE LAPLAND r>OG. Captain Clarke thus describes the Lapland dog: — "We had a valuable companion in a dog belonging to one of the boatmen. It was of the true Lapland breed, and in all respects similar to a wolf, excepting the tail, which was bushy and curled like those of the Pomeranian race. This dog, swimming after the boat, if his master merely waved his hand, would cross the lake as often as he pleased, carrying half his body and the whole of his head and tail out of the water. Wherever he landed, he scoured all the long grass by the side of the lake in search of wild-fowl, and came back to us, bringing wild-ducks in his mouth to the boat, and then, having delivered his prey to his master, he would instantly set off again in search of more."* But we pass on to another and more valuable, species of the dog — THE SHEEP-DOG. The origin of the sheep-dog is somewhat various ; but the predominant breed is that of the intelligent and docile spaniel. Although it is now found in every civilized country in which the sheep is cultivated, it is not coeval with the domestica- tion of that animal. When the pastures were in a manner open to the first occupant, and every shepherd had a common property in them, it was * Clavke's Scandinavia, vol. i. p. 4S2. 259 not so necessary to restrain the wandering of the sheep, and the voice of the shepherd was usually sufficient to collect and to guide them. He pre- ceded the flock, and they " followed him whither- soever he went." In process of time, however, man availed himself of the sagacity of the dog to diminish his own labour and fatigue, and this useful servitor became the guide and defender of the flock. The sheep-dog possesses much of the same form and chai-acter in eveiy country. The muzzle is sharp, the ears are short and erect, and the animal is covered, particularly about the neck, with thick and shaggy hair. He has usually two dew claws on each of the hind legs ; not, however, as in the one claw of other dogs, having a jointed attachment to the limb, but merely connected by the skin and some slight cellular substance. These excrescences should be cut off when the dog is young. The tail is slightly turned upwards and long, and almost as bushy as that of a fox, even hi that variety whose coat is almost smooth. He is of a black colour, or black prevails, mixed with gray or brown. Professor Grognier gives the following account of this dog as he is found in France: — "The shepherd's dog, the least removed from the natural type of the dog, is of a middle size ; his ears short and straight; the hair long, principally on the tail, and of a dark colour; the tail is cai'ried horizontally or a little elevated. He is very in- different tocai-esses, possessed of much intelligence and activity to discharge the duties for which he was designed. In one or other of its varieties it is found in every part of France. Sometimes there is but a single breed, in others there are several varieties. It lives and maintains its proper charac- teristics, while other races often degenerate. Everywhere it preserves its proper distinguishing type. It is the servant of man, while other breeds vary with a thousand circumstances. It has one appropriate mission, and that it discharges in the most admirable way : there is evidently a kind and wise design in this." This account of the French sheep-dog, or of the sheep-dog everywhere, is as true as it is beau- tiful. One age succeeds to another, we pass from one climate to another, and everything varies and changes, but the shepherd's dog is what he ever was— the guardian of our flocks. There are, how- ever, two or more species of this dog ; the one which Professor Grognier has described, and which guards and guides the sheep in the open and level country, where wolves seldom intrude ; another crossed with tlie mastiff, or little removed from that dog, used in the woody and mountainous countries, their guard more than their guide.* In Great Britain, where he has principally to guide • The migratory sheep, in some parts of the south of France ahnost as numerous as in Spain, are attended by a goal as a guide; and the intelligence and apparent pride which he displays are reniaikable. and not to guard the Hock, he is comparatively a small dog. He is so in the northern and open parts of the country, where activity is principally wanted ; but, in the more enclosed districts, and where strength is often needed to turn an obstinate 260 slieep, he is crossed with some larger clog, as the rough terrier, or sometimes the pointer, or now and then the bull-dog : in fact, almost any variety tliat has strength and stoutness may be employed. Thus we obtain the larger sheep-dog and the drover's dog. The sagacity, forbearance, and kind- ness of the sheep-dog are generally retained; but from these crosses there is occasionally a degree of ferocity from which the sheep often suffer. In other countries, where the flock is exposed to the attack of the wolf, the sheep-dog is larger than the British drover's dog, and not far inferior in size to the mastiff. The strength and ferocity which qualify him to combat with the wolf, would occasionally be injurious or fatal to those who somewhat obstinately opposed his direction ; there- fore, in Denmark and in Spain, the dog is rarely employed to drive the flock. It is the office of the shepherd to know eveiy individual under his charge, to, as in olden times, " call them all by their names," and have always some docile and tamed wether who will take the lead, almost as subservient to his voice as is the dog himself, and whom the flock will immediately follow. In whatever other country the dog is used, partly or principally to protect the flock from the ravages of the wolf, he is as gentle as a lamb, Except when opposed to his natural enemy ; and it is only in England that the guardian of the sheep occasionally injures and worries them, and that many can be found bearing the mark of the tooth. This may be somewhat excusable (although it is often carried to a barbarous extent) in the drover's dog ; but it will admit of no apology in the shepherd's dog. It is the result of the idleness of the boy, or the mingled brutality and idleness of the shepherd, who is attempting to make the dog do his own work and that of his master too. We have admired the Prussian sheep-dog in the discharge of his duty, and have seen him pick out the marked sheep, or stop and turn the flock, as cleverly as any Highland colley, but he never bit them. He is a shorter, stronger, and more com- pact dog than ours. He pushes against them and forces them along. If they rebel against this mild treatment, the shepherd is at hand to enforce obedience ; and the flock is as easily and perfectly managed as any English or Highland one, and a great deal more so than the majority that we have seen. Mr. Trimmer, in his work on the Merinos, speaking of the Spanish flocks, says : — " There is no driving of the flock ; that is a practice entirely unknown ; but the shepherd, when he wishes to remove his sheep, calls to him a tame wether accustomed to feed from his hands. The favourite, however distant, obeys his call, and the rest follow. One or more of the dogs, with large collars armed with spikes, in order to jirotect them from the wolves, precede the flock, others skirt it on each side, and some bring up the rear. If a sheep be ill or lame, or lag behind unobserved by the shepherds, they stay with it and defend it until some one return in searcli of it. With us dogs are too often used for other and worse purposes. In open unenclosed districts they are indispensable ; but in others I wish them, I confess, either managed, or encouraged less. If a sheep commits a fault in the sight of an intemperate shepherd, or accidently offends him, it is dogged into obedience : the signal is given, the dog obeys the mandate, and the poor sheep flies round the field to escape from the fangs of him who should be his protector, until it becomes half dead with fright and exhaustion, while the trembling flock crowd together dreading the same fate, and the churl exults in this cowardly victory over a weak and defenceless animal."* If the farmer will seriously calculate the num- ber of ewes that have yeaned before their time, and of the lambs that he has lost, and the accidents that have occurred from the sheep pressing upon one another in order to escape from the dog, and if he will also take into account the continual disturbance of the sheep while grazing, by the approach of the dog, and the consequent inter- ference with the cropping and the digestion of the food, he will attach more importance to the good temper of the dog and of the shepherd than he has been accustomed to do. There would be no injustice, or rather a great deal of propriety, in inflicting a fine for every tooth-mark that could be detected. When the sheep, instead of collecting round the dog, and placing themselves under his protection on any sudden alarm, uniformly fly from him with terror, the farmer may be assured there is something radically wrong in the manage- ment of the flock. Instinct and education combine to fit this dog for our service. The pointer will act without any great degree of instruction, and the setter will crouch ; and most certainly the sheep-dog, and especially if he has the example of an older and expert one, will, almost without the teaching of the master, become everything that can be wished, obedient to every order, even to the slightest motion of the hand. There is a natural predis- position for the office he has to discharge, which it requires little trouble or skill to develop and perfect. It is no unpleasing employment to study the degree in which the several breeds of dogs are not only highly intelligent, but fitted by nature for the particular duty they have to perfonn. The pointer, the setter, the hound, the greyhound, the terrier, the spaniel, and even the bull-dog, were made, * Tiimmev on the Merinos, p. 50. See also tl:e Societv's work 261 THE SCOTCH SHEHP-DOr; and almost perfected, by nature chiefly for cue office alone, although they may be useful in many other ways. This is well illustrated in the sheep- dog. If he be but with his master, he lies content, indifferent to every surrounding object, seemingly half asleep and half awake, rarely mingling with his kind, rarely courting, and generally shrinking from, the notice of a stranger ; but the moment duty calls, his sleepy listless eye becomes bright- ened ; he eagerly gazes on his master, inquires and comprehends all he is to do, and, springing up, gives himself to the discharge of his duty mth a sagacity, and fidelity, and devotion, too rarely equalled even by man himself. Mr. James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, living in his early days among the sheep and their quadruped attendants, and an accurate observer of nature, as well as an exquisite poet, gives some anecdotes of the colley (the Highland term for sheep-dog), with which the reader will not be displeased. " My dog. Sirrah," says he, in a letter to the Editor of Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, " was, beyond all comparison, the best dog I ever saw. He had a somewhat surly and unsocial temper, disdaining all flattery, and refusing to be caressed ; but his attention to my commands and interest will never again be equalled by any of the canine race. When I first saw him a drover was leading him with a rope. He was both lean and hungi,, and far from being a beautiful animal ; for he was almost black, and had a grim taee, striped with dark brown. 1 thought I perceived a sort of sullen intelligence in his countenance, notwithstanding his dejected and forlorn appearance, and I bought him. He was scarcely a year old, and knew so little of herding that he had never turned a sheep in his life ; but, as soon as he discovered that it was his duty to do so, and that it obliged me, I can never forget with what anxiety and eagerness he learned his different evolutions, and wlien I once made him understand a direction he never forgot or mistook it." On one night, a large flock of lambs that were under the Ettrick Shepherd's care, frightened by something, scampered away in three difiierent directions across the hills, in spite of all that he could do to keep them together. " Sirrah," said, the shephei-d, " they "re a' awa! " It was too dark for the dog and his master to see each other at any considerable distance, but Sirrah understood him, and set off after the fugi- tives. The night passed on, and Hogg and his assistant traversed every neighbouring hill in anxious but fruitless search for the lambs : but he could hear nothing of them nor of the dog, and he was returning to his master with the doleful intelligence that he had lost all his lambs. " Ou our way home, however," says he, "we discovered a lot of lambs at the bottom of a deep ravine called the Flesh Clench, and the indefatigable Sirrah standing in front of them, looking round for some relief, but still true to his charge. We concluded that it was one of the divisions which Sirrah had 263 teen unable to manage, until he came to that commanding situation. But what was our astonish- ment when we discovered that not one lamb of the flock was missing ! How he had got all the divisions collected in the dark, is beyond my comprehension. The charge was left entirely to himself from midnight until the rising sun ; and, if all the shepherds in the forest had been there to have assisted him, they could not have effected it with greater promptitude. All that I can say is, that I never felt so grateful to any creature under the sun as I did to my honest Sirrah that morning." A shepherd, in one of his excursions over the Grampian Hills to collect his scattered flock, took with him (as is a frequent practice, to initiate them in their future business) one of his children about four years old. After traversing his pastures for a while, attended by his dog, he was compelled to ascend a summit at some distance. As the ascent was too great for the child, he left him at the bottom, with strict injunctions not to move from the place. Scarcely, however, had he gained the height, when one of the Scotch mists, of frequent occurrence, suddenly came on, and almost changed the day to night. He returned to seek his child, but was unable to find him, and concluded a long and fruitless seaixli by coming distracted to his cottage. His poor dog also was missing in the general confusion. On the next morning by daylight he renewed his search, but again he came back without his child. He found, however, that during his absence his dog had been home, and, on receiving his allowance of food, instantly departed. For four successive days the shepherd continued his search with the same bad fortune, the dog as readily coming for his meal and departing. Struck by this singular circumstance, he determined to follow the dog, who departed as usual with his piece of cake. The animal led the way to a cataract, at some distance from the spot where the child had been left. It was a rugged and almost perpendicular descent which the dog took, and he disappeared in a cave, the mouth of which was almost on a level with the torrent. The shepherd with difficulty followed ; but, on entering the cavern, what were his emotions when he beheld the infant eating the cake which the dog had just brought to him, while the faithful animal stood by, eyeing his young charge with the utmost complacency. From the situation in which the child was found, it appeared that he had wandered to the brink of the precipice, and then either fallen or scrambled down, the torrent preventing his re-ascent. The dog by means of his scent had traced him to the spot, and afterwards prevented him from starving by giving up a part, or perhaps tlie whole, of his own daily allowance. He appears never to have quitted the child night or day. except for food, as he was seen running at full speed to and from the cottage. * Mr. Hogg says, and very truly, that a single shepherd and his dog will accomplish more in gathering a flock of sheep from a Highland farm than twenty shepherds could do without dogs ; in fact, that without this docile animal, the pastoral life would be a mere blank. It would require more hands to manage a flock of sheep, gather them from the hills, force them into houses and folds, and drive them to markets, than the profits of the whole flock would be capable of maintaining. Well may the shepherd feel an interest in his dog ; he it is indeed that earns the family bread, of which he is himself content with the smallest morsel : always grateful, and always ready to exert his utmost abilities in his master's interests. Neither hunger, fatigue, nor the worst of treat- ment will drive him from his side, and he will follow him through every hardship without murmur or repining. If one of them is obliged to change masters, it is sometimes long before he will acknowledge the new owner, or condescend to work for him with the willingness that he did for his former lord ; but, if he once acknowledges him, he continues attached to him until death. f We will add another story of the colley, and proceed. It illustrates the memory of the dog. A shepherd was employed in bringing up some mountain sheep from Westmoreland, and took with him a young sheep-dog who had never made the juurney before. From his assistant being ignorant of the ground, he experienced great difficulty in having the flock stopped at the various roads and lanes he passed in their way to the neighbourhood of London. In the next year the same shepherd, accom- panied by the same dog, brought up another flock for the gentleman who had had the former one. On being questioned how he had got on, he said much better than the year before, as his dog now knew the road, and had kept the sheep from going up any of the lanes or turnings that had given tlie shepherd so much trouble on his former journey. The distance could not have been less than 400 miles. I BufFon gives an eloquent and faithful account of the sheep-dog : — " This animal, faithful to man, will always preserve a portion of his empire and a degree of superiority over other beings. He reigns at the head of his flock, and makes himself better understood than the voice of the shepherd. Safety, order, and discipline, are the fmits of his vigilance * Annuls of Sporting, vol. viii. p. 83. + "The Ettriek Shepherd has probably spoken somewhat loo enthusiastically of his dog; but accounts of the sagacity and almost superhuman fidelity of this dog crowd so rapidly upon us, that we are compelled to admire and to love him." — Hogg's Shepherd's Calendar, vol. ii. p. 308. t .Jesse's Gleanings, vol i n. 93. 263 and activity. They are a people submitted to his management, whom he conducts and protects, and against whom he never employs force but for the preservation of good order." " If we consider that this animal, notwithstanding his ugliness and his wild and melancholy look, is superior in instinct to all others ; that he has a decided character in which education has comparatively little share ; that he is the only animal born perfectly trained for the service of others : that, guided by natural powers alone, he applies himself to the care of our flocks, a duty which he executes with singular assiduity, vigilance, and fidelity ; tliat he conducts tliem with an admirable intelligence which is a part and portion of himself; that his sagacity astonishes at the same time that it gives repose to his master, while it requires great time and trouble to instruct other dogs for the purposes to which they are destined : if we reflect on these facts we shall be confirmed in the opinion that the shep- herd's dog is the tme dog of nature, the stock and model of the whole species."* THE DROVER'S DOG bears considerable resemblance to the sheep-dog, and has usually the same prevailing black or brown colour. He possesses all the docility of the sheep- dog, with more courage, and sometimes a degree of ferocity, exercised without just cause upon his charge, while he is in his turn cruelly used by a brutal master. There is a valuable cross between the coUey and the drovers dog in Westmoreland, and a larger and stronger breed is cultivated in Lincoln- shire ; indeed it is necessary there, where oxen as well as sheep are usually consigned to the dog's care. A good drover's dog is worth a considerable sum; but the breed is too frequently and injudi- ciously crossed at the fancy of the owner. Some drover's dogs are as much like setters, lurchers, and hounds, as they are to the original breed. Stories are told of the docility and sagacity of the drover's dog even more surprising than any that are related of the sheep-dog. Tiie Ettrick Shepherd says, that a Mr. Steel, butcher in Peebles, had such implicit dependence on the attention of his dog to his orders, that whenever he put a lot of sheep befoi'e her, he took a pride in leaving them entirely to her, and either remained to take a glass with the farmer of whom he had made the purchase, or travelled another road to look after bargains or business. At one time, however, he chanced to commit a drove to her charge, at a place called Willenslee, without attending to her condition, which he certainly ought to have done. This farm is about five miles from Peebles, over wild hills, and there is no regularly defined path to it. Whether Mr. Steel • Buffnn's Natural History, vol. v. p. 3It. chose another road is uncertain ; but, on coming home late in the evening, he was surprised to hear that his faithful animal had not made her appear- ance with her flock. He and his son instantly prepared to set out by different paths in search of her ; but, on going into the street, there was she with the flock, and not one of the sheep missing ; she, however, was carrying a young pup in her mouth. She had been taken in travail on those hills; and how the poor beast had contrived to manage the sheep in her state of suffering is beyond human calculation, for her road lay through sheep-pastures the whole way. Her master's heart smote him when he saw what she had suffered and effected ; but she was nothing daunted ; and, having deposited her young one in a place of safety, she again set out at full speed to the hills, and brought another and another little one, until she had removed her whole litter one by one : the last, however, was dead. Mr. Blaine relates as extraordinary an instance of intelligence, but not mingled, like the former, with natural affection. A butcher and cattle- dealer, who resided about nine miles from Alston, in Cumberland, bought a dog of a drover. The butcher was accustomed to purchase sheep and kine in the vicinity, which, when fattened, he drove to Alston market and sold. In these excursions he was frequently astonished at the peculiar sagacity of his dog, and at the more than common readiness and dexterity with which he managed the cattle ; until at length he troubled himself very little about the matter, but, riding carelessly along, used to amuse himself with observing how adroitly the dog acquitted himself of his charge. At length, so convinced was he of his sagacity, as well as fidelity, that he laid a wager that he would intrust the dog with a number of sheep and oxen, and let him drive them alone and unattended to Alston market. It was stipulated that no one should be within sight or hearing who had the least conti'ol over the dog, nor was any spectator to interfere. This extraordinary animal, however, proceeded with his business in the most steady and dexterous manner; and, although he had frequently to drive his charge through other herds that were grazing, he did not lose one ; but, conducting them to the very yard to which he was used to drive them when with his master, he significantly delivered them up to the person appointed to receive them by barking at his door. When the path wliich he travelled lay through grounds in which others were grazing, he would mu forward, stop his own drove, and then, chasing the others away, collect his scattered charge, and proceed. THE ITALIAN OR POMERANIAN WOLF-DOG. The wolf-dog is no longer a native of Great I Britain, because his services are not required there, 204 but he is useful in various parts of the coutiuent, in the protection of the sheep from the attacks of the wolf. A pair of these dogs was brought to the Zoological Society of London in 1833, and there long remained, an ornament to the Gardens. They appeared to possess a considerable degree of strength, but to be too gentle to contend with so powerful and ferocious an animal as the wolf. They were mostly covered with white or gray, or occasionally black hair, short on the head, ears, and feet, but long and silky on the body and tail. The forehead is elevated, and the muzzle lengtli- ened and clothed with short hair. The attacliment of this dog to his master and the flock is very great, and he has not lost a particle of his sagacity, but, where wolves are common, is still used as a sheep-dog. THE CUR is the sheep-dog crossed with the terrier. He has long and somewhat deservedly obtained a very bad name, as a bully and a coward ; and certainly his habit of barking at everything that passes, and flying at the heels of the horse, renders him often a very dangerous nuisance : he is, however, in a manner necessaiy to the cottager ; he is a faithful defender of his humble dwelling ; no bribe can seduce him from his duty ; and he is likewise a useful and an effectual guard over the clothes and scanty provisions of the labourer, who may be working in some distant part of the field. All day long he will lie upon his master's clothes, seemingly asleep, but giving immediate warning of the approach of a supposed marauder. He has a propensity, when at home, to fly at every horse and every strange dog ; and of young game of eveiy kind there is not a more ruthless destroyer than the village cur. Mr. Hogg draws the following curious parallel between the sheep-dog and the cur: — "An ex- ceedingly good sheep-dog attends to nothing but the particular branch of business to which he is bred. His whole capacity is exerted and exhausted in it; and he is of little avail in miscellaneous matters ; whereas a very indifferent cur bred about the house, and accustomed to assist in everything, ■will often put the more noble breed to disgrace in these little services. If some one calls out that the cows are in the com, or the hens in the garden, the house coUey needs no other hint, but runs and turns them out. The shepherd's dog knows not what is astir, and if he is called out in a hurry for such work, all that he will do is to run to the hill, or rear himself on his haunches to see that no sheep are running away. A well-bred sheep-dog, if coming hungry from the hills, and getting into a milk-bouse, would likely think of nothing else than filling his belly with the cream. Kot so liis initiated brother : he is bred at home to far higher principles of honour. I have known such lie night and day among from ten to twenty pails full of milk, and never once break the cream of one of them with the tip of his tongue, nor would he suffer cat, rat, or any other creature to touch it. While therefore the cur is a nuisance, he is very useful in his way, and we would further plead for him, that he possesses a great deal of the sagacity and all the fidelity of the choicest breed of dogs." The dog who, according to the well-known and authentic story, watched the remains of his master for two years in the churchyard of St. Olave's, in Southwark, was a cur. The following story is strictly authentic : — " Not long ago a young man, an acquaintance of the coachman, was walking, as he had often done, in Lord Fife's stables at Banff. Taking an oppor- tunity, when the servants were not regarding him, he put a bridle into his pocket. A Highland cur that was generally about the stables saw him, and immediately began to bark at him, and when he got to the stable-door would not let him pass, but bit him by the leg in order to prevent him. As the servants had never seen the dog act thus before, and the same young man had been often with them, they could not imagine what could be the reason of the dog's conduct. However, when they saw the end of a valuable bi'idle peeping out of the young man's pocket, they were able to account for it, and, on his giving it up, the dog left the stable-door where he had stood, and allowed him to pass."* THE LURCHER. This dog was originally a cross between the greyhound and the shepherd's dog, retaining all the speed and fondness for the chace belonging to the one, and the superior intelligence and readiness for any kind of work which the latter possessed. This breed has been crossed again with the spaniel, combining the disposition to quest for game which distinguishes the spaniel with the muteness and swiftness of the greyhound. Sometimes the grey- hound is crossed with the hound. Whatever be the cross, the greyhound must predominate ; but his form, although still to be traced, has lost all its beauty. The lurcher is a dog seldom found in the possession of the honourable sportsman. The farmer may breed him for his general usefulness, for di-iving his cattle, and guarding his premises, and occasionally coursing the hare ; but other dogs will answer the fonner purposes much better, while the latter qualification may render him suspected by his landlord, and sometimes be productive of serious injuiy. In a rabbit-waiTen ♦ Travels in ?col!an.l, by the Rev. J. Hall, vol. ii. p. 395. 205 this dog is peculiarly destructive. His scent enables him to follow them silently and swiftly. He darts unexpectedly upon them, and being trained to bring his prey to his master, one of these dogs will often in one night supply the poacher with rabbits and other game worth more money than he could earn by two days' hard labour. Mr. H. Faull, of Helstone, in Cornwall, lost no fewer than fifteen fine sheep, and some of them store sheep, killed by lurchers in January, 1824.* We now proceed to the different species of dog belonging to the second division of Cuvier, which are classed under the name of Hound ; and first we take THE BEAGLE. The origin of this diminutive hound is some- what obscure. There is evidently much of the harrier and of the old southern, connected with a considerable decrease of size and speed, the posses- sion of an exceedingly musical voice, and very great power of scent. Beagles are rarely more than ten or twelve inches in height, and were generally so nearly of the same size and power of speed, that it was commonly said they might be covered with a sheet. This close running is, however, considered as a mark of excellence in hounds of every kind. There are many pleasurable recollections of the period when "the good old English gentleman" used to keep his pack of beagles or little harriers, slow but sure, occasionally carried to the field in a pair of panniers on a horse's back ; often an object of ridicule at an early period of the chase, but rarely failing to accomplish their object ere the day closed, " the puzzling pack unravelling wile by wile, maze within maze." It was often the work of two or three hours to accomplish this ; but it was seldom, in spite of her speed, her shifts, and her doublings, that the hare did not fall a victim to her pursuers. The slowness of their pace gradually caused them to be almost totally discontinued, until very lately, and especially in the royal park at Wind- sor, they have been again introduced. Generally _ t x-n speaking, they have all the strength and endurance which is necessary to ensure their killing their game, and are much fleeter than their diminutive size would indicate. Formerly, considerable fancy and even judgment used to be exercised in the breeding of these dogs. They were curiously dis- tinguished by the names of " deep-flewed," or " shallow-flewed," in proportion as they had the depending upper lip of the southern, or the sharper * Annals of Sporting, vol, v. p. 137. muzzle and more contracted lip of the northern dogs. The shallow-flewed were the swiftest, and the deep-flewed the stoutest and the surest, and their music the most pleasant. The wire-haired beagle was considered as the stouter and better dog. The form of the head in beagles has been much misunderstood. They have, or should have, large heads, decidedly round, and thick rather than long ; there will then be room for the expansion of the S6@ nasal membrane — that of smell — and for the Teverberation of the sound, so peculiarly pleasant in this dog. The beagle inins very low to the ground, and therefore has a stronger impression of the scent than taller dogs. This is especially the case when the scent is more than usually low. Among the advocates for beagles, several years ago, was Colonel Hardy. He used to send his dogs in panniers, and they had a little bam for tlieir kennel. The door was one night broken open, and every hound, panniers and all, stolen. The thief was never discovered, nor even suspected. The use of beagles was soon afterwards nearly abandoned by the introduction of the harrier, and by his yielding in his turn to the fox-hound ; but the beagles of Colonel Thomton and Colonel Molyneux will not be soon forgotten.* There is, however, a practice which fair sports- men will never resort to — the use of a beagle to start a hare in order to be run down by a brace of greyhounds, or perhaps by a lurcher. The hare is not fairly matched in this way of pro- ceeding. THE HARRIER occupies an intermediate station between the beagle and the fox-hound. It is the fox-hound bred down to a diminished size, and suited to the animal he is to pursue. He retains, or did for a while retain, the long body, deep chest, large hones, somewhat heavy head, sweeping ears, and mellow voice, which the sportsman of old so enthu- siastically described, with the certainly of killing, and the pleasing prolongation of the chace. With this the farmer used to be content: it did not require expensive cattle, was not attended with much hazard of neck, and did not take him far from home. Almost every country squire used in former days to keep his little pack of harriers or beagles. He was mounted on his stout cob-horse, that served him alike for the road and the chace ; and his huntsman probably had a still smaller and rougher beast, or sometimes ran afoot. He could then follow the sport, almost without going off his own land, and the farmer's boys, knowing the country and the usual doublings of the hare, could see the greater part of the chace, and were almost • Mr. Beckford at one time determined to try how he should like the use of beagles, and, having he^rd of a small pack of them, he sent his coachman, the person he could best spare, to fetch them. It was a lotig journey, and, although he had some assistance, yet not being used to hounds, he had some trouble in getting them along, especially as they had not been out of the kennel for several weeks before. They were consequently so riotous that they ran after everything they saw, sheep, cur dogs, birds of all sorts, as well as hares and deer. However, he lost but one hound; and, when Mr. Beckford asked him what he thought of them, he said, that they could not fail of being good hounds, for they would hunt every- able to keep up with the hounds, so that they were rarely absent at the death : indeed they saw and enjoyed far more of it than the fox-hunter or the stag-hunter now does, mounted on his fleetest horse. The harrier was not more than 18 or 19 inches high. He was crossed with the foxhound if lie was getting too diminutive, or with the beagle if he was becoming too tall. The principal objects the sportsman endea- voured to accomplish were to preserve stoutness, scent, and musical voice, with speed to follow the hare sufficiently close, yet not enough to run her down too quickly, or witliout some of those per- plexities, and faults, and uncertainties which give the principal zest to the chace. The character and speed of the hound much depend on the nature of the country. The smaller harrier will best suit a deeply enclosed country ; but where there is little cover, and less doubling, greater size and fleetness are requisite. The harrier, nevertheless, let him be as tall and as speedy as he may, should never be used for the fox ; but every dog should be strictly confined to his own game. Mr. Beckford, in his Thoughts upon Hunting, gives an account, unrivalled, of the chace of the hare and fox. Many sporting writers have endea- voured to tread in his steps ; but they have failed in giving that graphic account of the pleasures of the field which Mr. Beckford's essay contains. He says that the spoi-tsmnn should never have more than 20 couple in the field, because it would be exceedingly difficult to get a greater number to run together, and a pack of harriers cannot be complete if they do not. A hound that runs too fast for the rest, or that lags behind them, should be immediately discarded. His hounds were between the large slow-hunting harrier and the fox-beagle. He endeavoured to get as much bone and strength in as little compass as possible. He acknowledges that this was a difficult under- taking ; but he had, at last, the pleasure to see them handsome, small, yet bony, running well together, and fast enough, with all the alacrity that could be desired, and hunting the coldest scent. He anticipates the present improvement of the chace when he lays it down as a rule never to be departed from, that hounds of every kind should be kept to their own game. They should have one scent, and one style of hunting. Harriers will run a fox in so different a style from the pursint of a hare, that they will not readily, and often will not at all, return to their proper work. The difference in the scent, and the eagerness of pur- suit, and the noise that accompanies fox-hunting all contribute to spoil a harrier. Mr. Beckford pleasingly expresses a sports- 267 ,^^^: --^^V.^ man's consideration for the poor animal whioli he is hunting to death. "A hare," he says, "is a timorous Tittle animal that we cannot help feeling some compassion for at the time that we are pur- suing her destruction. We should give scope to all her little tricks, nor kill her foully nor over- matched. Instinct instructs her to make a good defence when not unfairly treated, and I will venture to say that, as far as her own safety is concerned, she has more cunning than the fox, and makes shifts to save her life far beyond all his artifice."* THE FOX-HOUND is of a middle size, between the harrier and the stag-hound; it is the old English hound, suffi- ciently crossed with the greyhound to give him lightness and speed without impairing his scent ; and he has now been bred to a degree of speed sufficient to satisfy the man who holds his neck at the least possible price, and with which few, except .thorough-bred horses, and not all of them, can live to the end of the chace. The fox-hound is lighter, or, as it is now called, more highly bred, or he retains a greater portion of his original size and heaviness, according to the nature of the country and the fancy of the master of the pack : therefore it is difficult to give an accurate description of the best variety of this dog; but there are guiding * Bec-kford on Hunting, p. 150. points which can never be forgotten without serious injury. He derives from the gveyhciund a head some- what smaller and longer in proportion to his size than either the stag-hound or the harrier. But considerable caution is requisite here. The beauty of the head and face, although usually accompanied by speed, must never be sacrificed to stoutness and power of scent. The object of the sportsman is to amalgamate them, or rather to possess them all in the greatest possible degree. This will generally be brought to a great degree of perfection if the sportsman regards the general excellence of the dog rather than the perfection of any particular point. The ears should not, comparatively speak- ing, be so large as those of the stag-hound or the harrier ; but the neck should be longer and lighter, the chest deep and capacious, the fore-legs straight as arrows, and the hind ones well bent at the hock. Some extraordinary accounts have been given of the speed of the fo.x-hound. A match that was run over the Beacon Course, at Newmarket, is the best illustration of his fleetness. The distance is ■4 miles 1 furlong and 132 yards. The winning dog performed it in 8 minutes and a few seconds ; but of the sixty horses that started with the hounds only twelve were able to run in with them. Flying Childers had run the same course in 7 minutes and 30 seconds. seS " The size, or, as we should rather say, the height of a fox-hound, is a point on which there has been much difference of opinion. Mr. Chute's pack was three inches below the standard of Mr. Villebois', and four inches below that of Mr. Warde's. The advocates of the former assert, that they get better across a deep and strongly fenced country, while the admirers of the latter insist on their being better climbers of hills and more active in cover. As to uniformity in size, it is by no means essential to the well-doing of hounds in the field, and has been disregarded by some of our best sportsmen : Mr. Meynell never drafted a good hound on account of his being over or under sized. The proper standard of height in fox-hounds is from 21to 22 inches for bitches, and from 23 to 24 for dog-hounds. Mr. Warde's bitches, the best of the kind that our country con- tained, were rather more than 23 inches. A few of his dogs were 25 inches high. The amount of hounds annually bred will depend upon the strength of the kennel. From sixty to eighty couples is the complement for a four days a-week pack, which will require the breeding of a hundred couples of puppies every year, allowing for acci- dents and distemper."* THE FOX-nOUND. Nimrod very properly observes, that " Mr. Beckford has omitted a point much thought of by the modern sportsmen, namely, the back-ribs, which should also be deep, as in a strong-bodied horse, of which we say, when so formed, that he has a good ' spur-place ;' a point highly esteemed in him. Nor is he sufficiently descriptive of the hinder legs of the hound ; for there is a length of thigh discernible in first-rate hounds which, like the well-let-down hock of the horse, gives them much superiority of speed, and is also a great security against their laming themselves in leaping fences, which they are moi-e apt to do when they become blown, and consequently weak. The fore- legs, 'straight as arrows,' is an admirable illus- tration of perfection in those parts by Beckford ; for, as in a bow or bandy legged man, nothing is so disfiguring to a hound as having his elbows projecting, and which is lilvewise a great check to speed. "f Mr. Daniel gives a curious account of the pre- judices of sportsmen on the subject of colour. The white dogs were curious hunters, and had a capital scent ; the black, with some white spots, were obedient, good hunters, and with good con stitutions ; the gray-coloured had no very acuts scent, but were obstinate and indefatigable in their quest ; the yellow dogs were impatient and obsti- nate, and taught with difficulty.! The dog exhibits no criteria of age after the first two years. That period having elapsed, the * The Hovse and the Hound, by Nimrod, p. 340. + Ibid., p. 332. t Daniel's Fox-hound, p. 20;j. •■ib'd whiteness and evenness of the teeth soon pass away, and the old dog can scarcely he mistaken. Nimrod scarcely speaks too positively when he says that an old hound cannot be mistaken, if only looked in the face. At all events, few are found in a kennel after the eighth year, and very few- after the ninth. Mr. Beckford advises the sportsman carefully to consider the size, shape, colour, constitution. and natural disposition of the dog from which he breeds, and also the fineness of the nose, the evi- dent strength of the limb, and the good temper and devotion to his master which he displays. The faults or imperfections in one breed may be rectified in another : and, if this is properly attended to, there is no reason why improvements may not continually be made. The separation of the sexes in the kennel and in the field is one of the latest innovations in the hunting world, and generally considered to be a good one. The eye is pleased to see a pack of hounds, nearly or quite of a size. The character of the animal is more uniformly displayed when confined to one sex. In consequence of the sepa- ration of the two, the dogs are less inclined to quarrel ; and the bitches are more at their ease than when undergoing the importunate solicitations of the male. As to their performances in the field, opinions vary, and each se.x has its advocates. The bitch, with a good fo.x before her, is decidedly more off-hand at her work ; but she is less patient, and sometimes overruns the scent. Sir Bellingham Graham has been frequently heard to say, that if his kennels would have afforded it, he would never have taken a dog-hound into the field. That in the canine race the female has more of elegance and symmetry of form, consequently more of speed, than the male, is evident to a common observer; but there is nothing to lead to the conclusion that, in the natural endowments of the senses, any superiority exists. * The bitch should not be allowed to engage in any long and severe chaee after she has been lined. She should be kept as quiet as may be practicable, and well, hut not too abundantly fed ; each having a kennel or place of retreat for herself. She should be carefully watched, and especially when the ninth week approaches. The huntsman and the keeper, without any apparent or unnecessary intrusion, should be on the alert. The time of pupping having arrived, as little noise or disturbance should be made as possible ; hut a keeper should be always at hand, in case of abortion or difficult parturition. Should there be a probability of either of these occurring, he should not be in a hurry ; for, as much should be left to nature as can, without evident danger, be done, • The Horse and ihe Hound, by Niravod, p. 35fi. VOL. II. and the keeper should rarely intrude unless his assistance is indisp(;nsable. The pupping lieiug accomplished, the mother should be carefully attended to. She sliould be liberally fed, and particularly should have her share of animal food, and an increased quantity of milk. The bitch should not have whelps until she has hunted two seasons ; for, before that time it will be scarcely possible to ascertain her excellences or defects. If there are any considerable faults, she should be immediately rejected. When the tiuie approaches for her to produce her puppies, she should lie allowed a certain degree of liberty, and should choose her couch and run about a little more than usual ; but, when the young ones are born, the less they are handled the better. The constitution and appearance of the mother will indicate how many should be kept. If two litters are born at or about the same time, or within two or three days of each other, we may interchange one or tw'o of the whelps of each of them, and perhaps increase the value of both. When the whelps are able to crawl to a certain distance, it will be time to mark them, according to their respective litters, some on the ear and others on the lip. The dew-claws should be re- moved, and, usually, a small tip from the tail. Their names also should be recorded. The whelps will begin to lap very soon after they can look about them, and should remain with the mother until they are fully able to take care of themselves. They may then be prepared to go to quarters. Two or three doses of physic should be given to the mother, with intervals of four or five days between each : this will prepare her to return to the kennel. There is often considerable difficulty in dis- posing of the whelps until they get old and stout enough to be brought into the kennel. They are mostly sent to some of the neighbouring cottages, in order to be taken care of; but they are often neglected and half starved there. In consequence of this, distemper soon appears, and many of them are lost. Whelps n-alkcd, or taken care of at butchers' houses, soon grow to a considerable size ; but they are apt to be heavy-shouldered and throaty, and perhaps otherwise deformed. There is some doubt whether it might not be better for the sportsman to take the management of them him- self, and to have a kennel built purposely for them. It may, perhaps, be feared that the dis- temper will get among them: they would, however, be well fed, and far more comfortable than they now are ; and, as to the distemper, it is a disease that they must have some time or other. From twenty to thirty couples are quite as many as can be easily managed ; and the principal 270 consideration is, wtether they are steady, and as nearly as possible' possessing equal speed. When the packs are very large, the hounds are seldom suiEciently hunted to be good. Few persons choose to hunt every day, or, if they did, it is not likely that the weather would peimit them. The sportsman would, therefore, be compelled to take an inconvenient number into the field, and too many must be left behind. In the first place, too many hounds in the field would frequently spoil the sport ; and, on the other baud, the hounds that remained would get out of wind, or become riotous, or both. Hounds, to be useful and good, should be constantly hunted ; but a great fault in many packs is their having too many old dogs among them. Young hounds, when first taken to the kennel, should be kept separate from the rest of the pack, otherwise there will be frequent and dangerous quarrels. "When these do occur, the feeder hears, and sometimes, but not so frequently as he ought, endeavours to discover the cause of the distui-b- ance, and visits the culprits with deserved punish- ment ; too often, however, he does not give himself time for this, but rashes among them, and flogs every hound that he can get at, guilty or not guilty. This is a shameful method of procedure. It is the cause of much midesei-ved punishment : it spoils the temper of the dog, and makes him careless and indifferent as long as he lives. Mr. Beckford veiy properly remarks, that " Young hounds are, and must be awkward at first, and should be taken out, a few at a time, with couples not too loose. They are thus accustomed to the usual occurrences of the road, and this is most easily accomplished when a young and an old dog are coupled together." A sheep-field is the next object, and the young hound, properly watched, soon becomes reconciled, and goes quietly along with the companion of the preceding day. A few days afterwards the dogs are uncoupled in the field, and perhaps, at first, are not a little disposed to attack the sheep; but the cry of " Ware sheep !" in a stern tone of voice, arrests them, and often without the aid of the whip ; it being taken as a principle that this in- strument should be used as seldom as possible. If, indeed, the dog is self-willed, the whip must be had recourse to, and perhaps with some severity; for, if he is once suffered to taste the blood of the sheep it may be difficult to restrain him afterwards. A nobleman was told that it was possible to break his dogs of the habit of attacking his sheep, by introducing a large and fearless ram among them ; one was accordingly procured and turned into the kennel. The meu with their whips and voices, aud the ram with his homs, soon threw the whole kennel into confusion. The hounds and the ram were left together. Meeting a friend soon after- wards, " Come," said he, " to the kennel, and see what rare sport the ram is making among the hounds." His friend asked whether he was not afraid that some of them might be spoiled. " No," said he ; " they deserve it, and let them suffer." They proceeded to the kennel ; all was quiet. The kennel-door was thrown open, and the remains of the ram were found scattered about ; the hounds, having filled their bellies, had retired to rest. The time of entering young hounds must vary- in different countries. In a corn countiy, it should not be until the wheat is carried ; in grass coun- tries, somewhat sooner ; and, in woodlands, as soon as we please. Frequent hallooing may be of use with young hounds ; it makes them more eager ; but, generally speaking, there is a time when it may be of use, a time when it does hann, and a time when it is perfectly indifferent. The following remarks from Mr. Beckford ai'e worthy of their author : — " Hounds at their first entering cannot be encouraged too much. When they begin to know what is right, it will be soon enough to chastise them for doing wrong ; and, in such case, one rather severe beating will save a great deal of trouble. The voice should be used as well as the whip ; and the smack of the whip will often be of as much avail as the lash to him who has felt it." Flogging hounds in the kennel, the frequent practice of too many huntsmen, should be held in utter abhorrence ; aud, if carried to a considerable excess, is a disgrace to humanity. Generally speaking, none but the sportsman can form an adequate conception of the perfect obedience of the hound both in the kennel and the field. At feed- ing-time, each clog, although hungiy enough, will go through the gate in the precise order in which he is called by the feeder ; and, in a well-broken pack, to chop at, or to follow a hare, or to give tongue on a false scent, or even to break cover alone, although the fox is in view, are faults that are rarely witnessed. Let not this obedience, however, be purchased by the infliction of a degree of craelty that dis- graces both the master and the menial. A young fox-hound may, possibly, mistake the scent of a hare for that of a fox, and give tongue. In too many hunts he will be unmercifully flogged for this, and some have almost died under the lash. Mercy is a word totally unknown to a great pro- portion of whippers-in, and even to many who call themselves gentlemen. There can be no occasion or excuse for barbarity : a little trouble, and mode- rate punishment, and the example of his fellows, will gradually teach the wildest hound his duty. That the huntsman, and not the hound, may occasionally be in fault, the following anecdote will furnish sufficient proof. In drawing a strong cover, a young bitch gave tongue very freely, while none of the other hounds challenged. The whip- 271 per-in railed to no purpose ; the huntsman insisted that she was wrong, and the whip was applied with great severity. In doing this, the lash accident- ally struck one of her eyes out of its socket. Notwithstanding the dreadful pain that must have ensued, she again took up the scent, and proved herself right ; for the fox had stolen away, and she had broken cover after him, unheeded and alone. After much delay and cold hunting, the pack hit ofi the same scent. At some distance a farmer informed the sports- men that they were a long way behind the fox, for he had seen a single hound, very bloody about the head, running breast-high, so that there was but little chance of their getting up with her. The pack, from her coming to a check, did at length overtake her. The same bitch once more hit off the scent, and the fox was killed, after a long and severe run. The eye of the poor animal, that had hung pen- dent through the chace, was then taken off with a pair of scissors. THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE SE.\SON. During the beginning of autumn, the hounds should be daily exercised when the weather will permit. They should often be called over in the kennel to habituate them to their names, and walked out among the sheep and deer, in order that they may be accustomed perfectly to disregard them. A few stout hounds being added to the young ones, some young foxes may occasionally be turned out. If they hunt improper game, tliey must be sternly checked. Implicit obedience is required until they have been sufficiently taught as to the game which they are to pursue. No obstinate deviation from it must ever be pardoned. The hounds should be, as much as possible, taken out into the country which they are afterwards to hunt, and some young foxes ai'e probably turned out for them to pursue. At length they are suffered to hunt their game in thorough earnest, and to taste of its blood. After this they ai'e sent to more distant covers, and more old hounds are added, and so they con- tinue until they are taken into the pack, which usually happens in September. The young hounds continue to be added, two or three couple at a time, until all have hunted. They are then divided into two packs, to be taken out on alternate days. Properly speaking, the sport cannot be said to begin until October, hut the two preceding months are important and busy ones.* " It would appear, then," says Nimrod, "that the breeding of a pack of fox-hounds, bordering on perfection, is a task of no ordinary difficulty. The best proof of it is to be found in the few • Beckford's Thoughts on Hunting, p. 95. sportsmen that have succeeded in it. Not only is every good quality obtained, if possible, but every imperfection or fault is avoided. The higliest virtue in a fo.x-hound is his being true to the line his game has gone, and a stout runner at the end of the chace. He must also be a patient hunter when there is a cold scent and the pack is at fault." While there is no country in the world that can produce a breed of horses to equal the English thorough-bred in his present improved state, there are no dogs like the English fox-hound for speed, scent, and continuance. It would seem as if there were something in the climate favourable and necessary to the perfection of the hound. Packs of them have been sent to other countries, neigh- bouring and remote, but they have usually become more or less valueless. As regards the employment of the voice and the horn when out with hounds, too much caution cannot be used. A hound should never be cheered unless we are perfectly convinced that he is right, nor rated unless we are sure that he is wrong. When we are not sure of what is going on we should sit still and be silent. A few moments will possibly put us in possession of all that we wish to know.f The horn should only be used on particular occasions, and a huntsman should speak by his horn as much as by his voice. Particular notes should mean certain things, and the hounds and the field should understand the language. We have heard some persons blowing the horn all the day long, and the hounds have become so careless as to render it of no use. When a hound first speaks in cover to a fox, you may, if you think it necessary, use one single and prolonged note to get the pack together. The same note will do at any time to call up a lost or loitering hound ; but, when the fox breaks cover, then let your horn be marked in its notes : let it sound as if you said through it, " Gone away ! gone away ! gone away ! away! away! away!" dwelling with full emphasis on the last syllable. Every hound will fly from the cover the moment he hears this, and the sports- men and the field will know that the fox is away. It is the perfection of the horse, and the per fection of the hound, and the disregard of trifling expense, that has given to Englishmen a partiality + Mr. Beckford gives the following excellent account of what a huntsman should be : — " A huntsman should be attached to the sport, and indefatigable, young, strong, active, bold, and enter- prising in the pursuit of it. He should be sensible, good-tempered, sober, exact, and cleanly — a good groom, and an excellent horse- man. His voice should be strong and clear, with an eye so quick as to perceive which of his hounds carries the scent when all are rimning, and an ear so excellent as to distinguish the leading hounds when he does not see them. He should be quiet, patient, and without conceit. Such are the qualities which constitute per- fection in a huntsman. He should not, however, be too fcmd of displaying them until called forth by necessity ; it being a peculiar and distinguishing trait in his character to let his hounds alone while they thus hunt, and have genius to assist them when they cannot." — Beckford on Hunting, Letter ix. R 2 387a for field-sports, unequalled in any other country. Mr. Ware's pack of tbx-hoands cost 2000 guineas, and the late Lord MidJleton gave the same to Mr. Osbaldestou for ten couples of his hounds. HUNTING-KENNELS. It is time, however, to speak of the kennel, whether we regard the sporting architecture of Mr. G. Tattersall, or the scientific inquiries of Mr. Vyner, or a sketch of the noble buildings at Goodwood. The lodging-rooms should be ceiled, but not plastered, with ventilators above and a large airy window on either side. The floors should be laid with flags or paved with bi-icks. Cement may be used instead of mortar, and the kennels will then be found wholesome and dry. The doorways of the lodging-houses will generally be four feet and a half wide in the clear. The posts are rounded, to prevent the hounds from being injured when they rush out. The benches may be made of cast iron or wood ; those composed of iron being most durable, but the hounds are more frequently lamed in getting to them. The wooden benches must be bound with iron, or the hounds will gnaw or destroy them. A question has arisen whether the benches should be placed round the kennel, or be in the centre of it, allowing a free passage by the side. There is least danger of the latter being affected by the damp. The walls should be wains- coted to the height of three feet at least. This will tend very considerably to their comfort. The floors of all the courts should be arranged in nearly the same way ; the partition walls being closed at the bottom, but with some iron-work above. The doorways should also be so contrived, that the huntsman may be able to enter whenever He pleases. The boiling-house should be at as great a distance from the hunting-kennel as can be managed, continuing to give warmth to the intir- rnary for distempered puppies, and at the same time being out of the way of the other courts. Mr. Vyner gives an interesting account of the young hounds kennel :— " This building," he says, " should be as far from the other lodging-rooms as the arrangements of the structure will allow. There is also an additional court, or grass-yard, an indispensable requisite in the puppies' kennel The size must be regulated according to the waste land at the end of the building ; but the longer it is, the better. At the farther end of the grass- court is a hospital for such young hounds as are , distempered, so contrived as to be remote from the ; other kennels, and, at the same time, within an j easy distance of the boiling-house, whence it is apparently approached by an outside door, through whicli the feeder can constantly pass to attend to the sick hounds without disturbing the healthy lots. Although this lodging-room is warmed by the chimneys of the boiling-house, it must also be well ventilated by two windows, to which shutters must be attached ; ventilation and good air being quite as necessary to the cure of distemper as warmth." KENNEL LAMENESS. We now proceed to a most important and ill- understood subject — the nature and treatment of kennel lameness. It is a subject that nearly concerns the sportsman, and on which there are several and the most contraiy opinions. This is a kind of lameness connected with, or attributable to, the kennel. According to the early opinion of Mr. Asheton Smith, who is a good authority, it was referrible to some peculiarity in the breed or management of the hounds; but, agreeably to a later opinion, it is dependent on situation and subsoil, and may be aggravated or increased by circumstances over which we have no control. Some kennels are in low and damp situations, yet the hounds are free from all com- plaint ; and others, with the stanchest dogs and under the best manageiuent, are continually sinking under kennel lameness. Mr. R. T. Vyner was one of the first who scientifically treated on this point, and taught us that clay is not by any means an objectionable soil to build a. kennel upon, although so many pseudo- sportsmen are frightened by the very name of it. He enters at once into his subject. " I am thoroughly convinced," says he, "from my own e.xperience, and, I may add, my own suffering, that the disease of kennel lameness arises only from one cause, and that is an injudicious and unfor- tunate selection of the spot for building. The kennel is generally built on a sandbed, or on a sandstone rock, while the healthiest grounds in England are on a stiff clay, and they are the healthiest because they are the least porous. Although this may be contrary to the opinion and prejudice of the majority of sportsmen, it is a fact that cannot be contradicted. " Through a light and friable soil, such as sand and sandstone, a vapour, more or less dense, is continually exhaling and causing a perpetual damp, which produces that fearful rheumatism which goes by the name of kennel lameness, while the kennels that are built on a clay soil, a soil of an impervious nature, are invariably healthy. "1 could," he adds, "enumerate twenty kennels to prove the effect — the invariable effect — of the existence of the disease on the one part, and of the healthiness of tlie situation on the other. I turn particularly to Her Majesty's kennel at Ascot, the arches of which were laid under the very foundation stones, and yet little or no amendment has ever taken place in the healthiness and comfort of the dogs. It is necessary to select a sound and 273 healthy situation when about to erect a kennel, and that sound and healthy situation can be met ■with alone on a strong impervious clay soil. We must have no fluid oozing through the walls or the floor of the kennel, and producing damp and un- healthy vapours, such as we find in the sand-bed." With regard to this there can be no error. Nimrod, in his excellent treatise on Kennel Lameness, asks, whether it does not appear that this disease is on the increase. He asks, " How it is that neither Beckford nor Somerville says one word that clearly applies to the disease ; and no one, however learned he might be in canine patho- logy, has been able clearly to define the disease, much less to discover a remedy for it ?" All that Mr. Blaine says on the matter amounts only to this : — " The healthiness of the situation on which any kennel is to be built is an important consideration. It is essential that it should be both dry and airy, and it should also be warm. A damp kennel produces rheumatism in dogs, which shows itself sometimes by weakness in the loins, but more frequently by lameness in the shoulders, known under the name of kennel lameness." Mr. Blaine illustrates this by reference to his own experience. " There is no disease, with the exception of distemper and mange, to which dogs are so liable as to a rheumatic affection of some part of the body. It presents almost as many varieties in the dog as it does in man ; and it has some peculiarities observable in the dog only. Rheumatism never exists in a dog without affecting the bowels. There will be inflammation or painful torpor through the whole of the intestinal canal. It is only in some peculiar districts that this occurs ; it pervades certain kennels only; and but until lately there has been little or almost no explanation of the cause of the evil."* Nimrod took a most important view of the matter, and to him the sporting world is much indebted. " How is it," he asks, "that, in our younger days, we never heard of kennel lameness, or, indeed, of hounds being lame at all, unless from accident, or becoming shaken and infirm from not having been composed of that iron-bound material which the labours of a greyhound or a hound require ? How is it that, in our younger days, masters of hounds began the season with fifty or sixty couples, and, bating the casualties, left off at the end of it equally strong in their kennels, and able, perhaps, to make a valuable draft : whereas we now hear of one-half of the dogs in certain localities being disabled by disease, and some masters of hounds compelled to be stopped in their work until their kennels are replenished ?" • Blaine (in ihe Diseases of the Dog, p. 140. Washing hounds when they come home after work must be injurious to them, although it has almost become the fashion of modern times. If they are not w^ashed at all, and we believe it to be unnecessary, yet the kennels in which the lameness has appeai-ed should be strictly avoided. It should be on the day following, and not in the evening of a hunting day, that washing should take place. Mr. Hodgson told Nimrod that the Quorn Pack never had a case of kennel lameness until his late huntsman took to washing his hounds after hunting, and then he often had four or five couples ill from this cause. He deprecated even their access to water in the evening after hunting, and we believe that he was quite right in so doing. The tongue of the dog, with the aid of clean straw, is his best and safest instrument in cleansing his person ; and, if he can be brought to his kennel with tolerably clean feet, as Mr. Foljambe enables him to be brought, he will never be long before he is comfortable in his bed, after his belly is filled. There is another mode as a preventive of kennel lameness, which we have the best authority for saying deserves particular attention, and that is, the frequently turning hounds off their benches dur- ing the day, even if it were to the extent of every two hours throughout the entire day. We do not mean to deny the existence of a disease, which, being produced in the kennel, is properly termed kennel lameness. Some kennels* are, no, doubt, more unhealthy and prone to engender rheumatic affections than others ; but, by proper management, and avoiding as much as possible all exciting causes, their effects may, at least, be very much lessened,- if not entirely obviated. LORD FITZHARDINGES MANAGEMENT. Lord Fitzhardinge's opinion of the situation of the kennel and the management of the hounds, as given in the New Sporting Magazine, is some- what different from that which has been just given. The following is the substance of it : * He states that the kennel should be built on a dry and warm situation. Of this there can be no doubt : the comfort and almost the existence of the dog depend upon it. To this he adds that it must not be placed on a gravelly or porous soil, over which vapours more or less dense are frequently or continually travelling, and thus causing a de- structive exhalation over the whole of the building. There must be no fluid oozing through the walls or the floor of the kennel, and producing damp and unhealthy vapours. When we have not a deep supersoil of clay, one or two layers of bricks or of stone may line the floor, and then not even the • See Hints to Young Masters of Fox-hounds — New Srort Mag., vol. viii. p. 174— 2«0. ~ . - • - ■ %7-4' most suLtile vapour can penetrate through the floor. A clean bed of straw should be allowed every second day, or oftener when the weather is wet. The lodging-houses should be ceiled, and there should be shutters to the windows. A thatched roof is preferable to tiles, being warmer in winter and cooler in summer. Stoves in the kennels are not necessary ; pro- bably they are best avoided ; for, if dogs are accustomed to any considerable degree of artificial heat, they are more easily chilled by a long expo- sure to cold. Their teeth and the setting-up of their backs will confirm this. Hounds, when they feel cold, naturally seek each other for warmth, and they may be seen lying upon the straw and licking each other, and that is by far the most wholesome way of procuring com- fort and warmth. On returning from hunting, their feet should be washed with some warm fluid, and especially the eyes should be examined, and their food got ready for them as soon as possible. The feeding in the morning should be an hour, or an hour and a half before they start for the field. It is truly observed by the noble writer to whom we have referred, that there is no pai't of an establishment of this kind that merits more attention than the boiling and feeding house. The hounds cannot perform their work well unless judiciously fed. Each hound requires particular and constitutional care. No more than five of them should be. let in to feed together, and often not more than one or two. The feeder should have each hound under his immediate observation, or they may get too much or too little of the food. Some hounds cannot run if they cany much flesh ; others are all the better for having plenty about them. The boilers should be of iron, two in number — one for meal and the smaller one for flesh. The large boiler should render it necessary to be used not more than once in four days or a week. The food should be stirred for two hours, then transferred to flat coolers, until suflficiently gelatinous to be cut with a kind of spade. By the admixture of some portion of soups it may be brought to any thickness requisite. The flesh to be mixed with it should be cut very small, that the greedy hounds may not be able to obtain more than their share. Four bushels and a half of genuine old oatmeal should be boiled with a hun- dred gallons of water. The flesh should be boiled every second or third day. Too great a proportion of soup would render the mixture of a healing nature. Mr. Delme Radcliffe very tmly observes that the feeding of hounds, as regards their condition, is one of the most essential jiroofsof a huntsman's skill in the management of the kennel. To pre- serve that even state of condition throughout the pack which is so desirable, he must be well ac- quainted with the appetite of every hound ; for some will feed with a voracity scarcely credible, and others will require every kind of enticement to induce them to feed. Mr. Meynell found that the use of dry unboiled oatmeal succeeded better than any other thing he had tried with delicate hounds. When once induced to take it, they would eat it greedily, and it seemed to be far more heartening than most kinds of aliment. Other hounds of delicate con- stitution might be tempted with a little additional flesh, and with the thickest and best of the trough, but they required to be watched, and often to be coaxed to eat. The dog possesses the power of struggling against want of food for an almost incredible period. One of these animals, six years old, was missing three-and-twenty days; at length some children wandering in a distant wood thought that they frequently heard the baying of a dog. The master was told of it, and at the bottom of an old quarry, sixty feet deep, and the mouth of which he had almost closed by his vain attempts to escape, the voice of the poor fellow was recognised. With much difficulty he was extricated, and found in a state of emaciation ; his body cold as ice and his thirst inextinguishable, and he scarcely able to move. They gave him at intenals small portions of bread soaked in milk and water. Two days afterwards he was able to follow his master a short distance. This occurrence is mentioned by M. Pinguin as a proof that neither hunger nor thirst could produce rabies. Messrs. Majendie and F. Cousins have carried their observations to the extent of forty days — a disgraceful period.* MANAGEMENT OF THE PACK. Sixty-five couples of hounds in full work wU consume the carcases of three horses in one week, or five in a fortnight. The annual consumption of meal will be somewhat more than two tons per month. In feeding, the light eaters should be let in first, and a little extra flesh distributed on the surface of the food, in order to coax those that are most shy. Some hounds cannot be kept to their work unless fed two or three times aday ; while others must not be allowed moi'e than six or seven laps, or they would get too much. In summer an extra cow or two will be of advantage in the dairy ; for the milk, after it has been skimmed, may be used instead of flesh. There must always be a little flesh in hand for the sick, for bitches with their whelps, and for the entry • Traite de la Folic des Animaux, torn. ii. 39. 275 of young hounds.* About Christmas is the time to arrange the breeding establishment. The number of puppies produced is usually from five to eight or nine ; but, in one strange case, eighteen of them made their appearance. The constitution and other appearances in the dam, will decide the number to be preserved. When the whelps are sufficiently grown to run about, they should be placed in a warm situation, with plenty of fresh grass, and a sufficient quantity of clean, but not too stimulating, food. They should then be marked according to their respective letters, tliat they may be always recognised. When the time comes, the ears of the dog should be rounded ; the size of the ear and of the head guiding tlie rounding- iron. This being passed, the master of the pack takes care that his treatment shall be joyous and playfid ; encouragement is always with him the word. The dog should be taught the nature of the fault before he is corrected: no animal is more grateful for kindness than a hound ; the peculiarities of his temper will soon be learned, and when he begins to love his master, he will mind, from his natural and acquired affection, a word or a frown from him more than the blows of all the whips that were ever put into the hands of the keepers. The distemper having passed, and the young hounds being in good health, they should be walked out every day, and taught to follow the horse, with a keeper who is selected as a kind and quiet person, and will bear their occasionally entangling them- selves in their couples. They are then taken to the public roads, and there exercised, and checked from riot, but with as little severity as possible; a frequent and free use of the whip never being allowed. No animals take their character from their master so much as the hounds do from theirs. If he is wild, or noisy, or nervous, so will his hounds be ; if he is steady and quick, the pack will be the same. The whip should never be applied but for some immediate and decided fault. A rate given at an improper time does more harm than good : it disgusts the honest hound, it shies and prevents from hunting the timid one, and it is treated with contempt by those of another character ■who may at some future time deserve it. It for- merly was the custom, and still is too much so, when a hound has hung on a hare, to catch him when he comes up, and flog him. The consequence of this is, that he takes good care the ue.xt time he indulges in a fault not to come out of cover at all. We will conclude this part of our subject by a short account of the splendid kennel at Goodwood, for which we are indebted to Lord W. Lennox, with the kind permission of the Duke of Richmond. It is described as one of the most complete estab- • Mr. D Radcliffe. ' lishmeuts of the kind in England. The original establishment of this building, although a little faulty, possesses considerable interest from its errors being corrected by the tliird Duke of Rich- mond, a man who is acknowledged to have been one of the most popular public characters of the day, and who in more private life extended his patronage to all that was truly honourable. It was to the Duke's support of native talent that we may trace the origin of the present Royal Academy. In 1758, the Duke of Richmond displayed, at his residence in Whitehall, a large collection of original plaster casts, taken from the finest statues and busts of the ancient sculptors. Every artist was freely admitted to this exhibition ; and, for the further encouragement of talent, he bestowed two medals annually on such as had exhibited the best models. We have thus digressed in order to give a slight sketch of the nobleman by whom tliis kennel was built, and we do not think that we can do better than lay before our readers the original account of it. Early in life the Duke built what was not then common, a tennis-coin-t, and what was more un- common, a dog-kennel, which cost him above £6000. The Duke was his own architect, assisted by, and under tlie guidance of, Mr. Wj'att; he dug his own flints, burnt his own lime, and conducted the wood-work in his own shops. The result of his labours was the noble building of which a plan is here given. The dog- kennel is a grand object when viewed from Goodwood. The front is handsome, the ground well raised about it, and the general effect good ; the open court in the centre adds materially to the noble appearance of the building. The entrance to the kennel is delineated in the centre with a flight of steps leading above. The huntsman's rooms, four in number, first present themselves, and are marked in the plan before us by the letter C ; each of them is fifteen feet four inches, by fourteen feet six inches. At each end of the side towards the court is one of the feeding-rooms, twenty-nine feet by fourteen feet four inches, and nobly constructed rooms they are ; they are designated by the letters B. At the back of the feeding-rooms are one set of the lodging-rooms, from thirty-five feet six; inches, to fourteen feet four inches, and marked hy the letters A, and at either extremity is another lodging-room, thirty-two feet six inches in length, and fourteen feet six inches in width; this is also marked by the letter A. Coming into the court we find the store-room, twenty-four feet by fourteen and a half, marked by the letter D, and the stable, of the same dimensions, by the letter E. At the top of tlie buildings are openings for the admission of cold air, and stoves to warm the m^ *7-7° air wheu too cold. There are pleiitiful supplies of water from tanks holding 10,000 gallons ; so that there is no inconvenience from tlie smell, and the whole can at any time be drained, and not be rendered altogether useless. Round the whole building is a pavement five feet wide ; air\- yards, and places for breeding, &c., making part of each wing. For the huntsman and whipper-in there are sleeping-rooms, and a neat parlour or kitchen. Soon after the kennel was erected it would contain two packs of hounds. THE ST.\G-HOUXD. The largest of the English hounds that has has been lately used, is devoted, as his name im- plies, to the ciiace of the deer. He is taller than the fox-hound, and with far more delicate scent, but he is not so speedy. He answers better than any other to the description given of the old English hound, so much valued when the country, less enclosed, and the forests, numerous and ex- tensive, were the harbours of the wild deer. The deer hound and the harrier were for many cen- turies the only hunting dogs. The fox-hound has been much more recently bred. The most tyrannic and cruel laws were en- forced for the preservation of this species of game, and the life of the deer, except when sacrificed in the chace, and by those who were privileged to join in it, was guarded with even more strictness than the life of the human being. When, however, the country became more generally cultivated, and the stag was confined to enclosed parks, and was seldom sought in his lair, but brought into the field, and turned out before the dogs, so much intei'est was taken from the affair, that this species of hunting grew out of fashion, and was confined to the neighbourhood of the scattered forests that remained, and enjoyed only by royalty and a few noblemen, of whose establishment a kennel of deer-hounds had, from time immemorial, formed a part. Since the death of George III., who was much attached to this sport, stag-hunting has rapidly declined, and the principal pleasure seems now to consist in the concourse of people brought together to an appointed place and hour, to witness the turning out of the deer. There is still maintained a royal establishment for the continuance of this noble sport ; but, unless better supported than it has of late years been, it will gradually decline. The stag-hounds are now a part of the regular Crown establishment. The royal kennel is situated upon Ascot Heath, about six miles from Windsor. At the distance of a mile from the the kennel is Swinley Lodge, the official residence of the Master of the Stag-hounds. The stag-hound is a beautiful animal. He is distinguished from the fox-hound by the apparent broadness and shortness of his head, his longer cheek, his straighter hock, his wider thigh and deeper chest, and better feathered and more beau- tifully arched tail. His appearance indicates strength and stoutness, in which indeed he is unequalled, and he has sufficient speed to render it difficult for the best horses long to keep pace with him ; while, as is necessary, when the dis- tance between the footmarks of the deer is con- sidered, his scent is most exquisite. He is far seldomer at fault than any other hound except the blood-hound, and rarely fails of running down his game. Of the stoutness of this dog the following anecdotes will be a sufficient illustration. A deer, in the spring of 1822, was turned out before the Earl of Derby's hounds at Hayes Common. The chace was continued nearly four hours without a check, when, being almost run down, the animal took refuge in some outhouses near Speldhurst, in Kent, more than forty miles across the countiy, and having actually ran more than fifty miles. Nearly twenty horses died in the field, or in con- sequence of the severity of the chace. A stag was turned out at Wingfield Park, in Northumberland. The whole pack, with the ex- ception of two hounds, was, after a long run, thrown out. The stag returned to his accustomed haunt, and, as his last effort, leaped the wall of the park, and lay down and died. One of the hounds, unable to clear the wall, fell and expired, and the other was found dead at a little distance. They had run about forty miles. When the stag first hears the cry of the hounds, he rans with the swiftness of the wind, and continues to ran as long as any sound of his pursuers can be distinguished. That having ceased, he pauses and looks carefully around him ; but before he can determine what course to pursue the cry of the pack again forces itself upon his attention. Once more he darts away, and after a while again pauses. His strength perhaps begins to fail, and he has recourse to stratagem in order to escape. He practises the doubling and the crossing of the fox or the hare. This being useless, he attempts to escape by plunging into some lake or river that happens to lie in his way, and when, at last, every attempt to escape proves abortive, he boldly faces his pursuers, and attacks the first dog or man who approaches him.* * The late Lord Orford reduced four stags to so perfect a degree of submission, that, in his short excursions, he used to drive them in a phaeton made for the purpose. He was one day exercising his singular and beautiful steeds in the neighbourhood of New- market, when their ears were saluted with the unwelcome cry of a pack of hounds, which, crossing the road in their rear, had caught the scent, and, leaving their original object of pursuit, were now in rapid chace of the frightened stags. In vain his grooms exerted themselves to the utmost ; the terrified animals bounded away with ihe swiftness o' lightning, and entered Newmarket at full speed 278 THE SOUTHERN HOUND. There used to be in the south of Devon a pack or cry of the genuine old English or southern hounds. There is some reason to believe that this was the original stock of the island, or of this part of the island, and that this hound was used by the ancient Britons in the chace of the larger kinds of game with which the countiy formerly abounded. Its distinguishing characters are its size and general heavy appearance; its great length of body, deep chest, and ears remarkably large and pendulous. The tones of its voice were peculiarly deep. It answered the description of Shakspere — " So flewed, so sanded ; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep .iway the morning dew; Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapp'd, Hke Thessalian bulls; Slow in pursuit, but malch'd in mouth like bells, Each under each." It was the slowness of the breed which occa- sioned its disuse. Several of them, however, remained not long ago at a village called Aveton Gilford, in Devonshire, in the neighbourhood of They made immediately for the Earn Inn, to which his lordship was in the habit of driving, and, having fortunately entered the yard without any accident, the stable-keepers huddled his lordship, the phaeton, and the deer into a large bam, just in time to save them from the hounds, who came into the yard in full cry a few .seconds afterwards.— Annals of Sporting, vol. iii., 182.3. which some of the most opulent of the farmers used to keep two or three dogs each. When fox- hunting had assumed somewhat of its modem form, the chace was followed by a slow heavy hound, whose excellent olfactory organs enabled him to cany on the scent a considerable time after the fox-hound passed, and also over grassy fallows, and hard roads, and other places, where the modern high-bred fox-hound would not be able to recognise it. Hence the chase continued for double the duration which it does at present, and hence may be seen the reason why the old English hunter, so celebrated in former days and so great a favourite among sportsmen of the old school, was enabled to perform those feats wdaich were exultingly bruited in his praise. The foct is, that the hounds and the horse were well matched. If the latter pos- sessed not the speed of the Lleltonian hunter, the hounds were equally slow and stanch. THE BLOOD-HOUND. This dog does not materially differ in appear- ance from the old deer-hound of a larger size, trained to hunt the human being instead of the quadruped. If once put on the tract of a supposed robber, he would unerringly follow him to his retreat, although at the distance of many a mile. 2T9 Such a breed was necessary when neither the private individual nor the government had other means to detect the offender. Generally spealdng, however, the blood-hound of former days would not injure the culprit that did not attempt to escape, but would lie down quietly and give notice by a loud and peculiar howl what kind of prey he had found. Some, however, of a savage disposition, or trained to unnatural ferocity, would tear to pieces the hunted wretch, if timely rescue did not arrive. Hounds of every kind, both great and small, may be broken in to follow any particular scent, and especially when they are feelingly convinced that they are not to hunt any other. This is the case with the blood-hound. He is destined to one particular object of pursuit, and a total stranger with regard to eveiy other. In the border country between England and Scotland, and until the union of the two kingdoms, these dogs were absolutely necessary for the pre- sei-vation of property, and the detection of robbery and murder. A tax was levied on the inhabitants for the maintenance of a certain number of blood- hounds. When, however, the civic government had sufficient power to detect and punish crime, this dangerous breed of hounds fell into disuse and was systematically discouraged. It, never- theless, at the present day, is often bred by the rangers in large forests or parks to track the deer-stealer, but oftener to find the wounded deer. The blood-hound is taller and better formed than the deer-hound. It has large and deep ears, the forehead broad and the muzzle narrow. The expression of the countenance is mild and pleasing, when the dog is not excited ; but, when he is following the robber, his ferocity becomes truly alarming. The Thrapstone Association lately trained a blood-hound for the detection of sheep-stealers. In order to prove the utility of this dog, a person whom he had not seen was ordered to nin as far and as fast as his strength would permit. An hour afterwards the hound was brought out. He was placed on the spot whence the man had started. He almost immediately detected the scent and broke away, and, after a chace of an hour and a half, found him concealed in a tree, fifteen miles distant. Mr. John Lawrence says, that a servant, dis- charged by a sporting country gentleman, broke into his stables by night, and cut off the ears and tail of a favourite hunter. As soon as it was discovered, a blood-hound was brought into the stable, who at once detected the scent of the miscreant, and traced it more than twenty miles. He then stopped at a door, whence no power could move him. Being at length admitted, he ran to the top of the house, and bursting open the door of a garret, found the object that he sought in bed, and would have torn him to pieces, had not the huntsman, who had followed him on a fleet horse, rushed up after him. Somerville thus describes the use to which he was generally put, in pursuit of the robber : — " Soon the sagacious brute, his curling tail Flourished in air, low bending, plies aiound His busy nose, the steaming vapour snuffs Inquisitive, nor leaves one turf untried, Till, conscious of the recent stains, his heart Beats quick. His snuffing nose, his active tail. Attest his joj*. Then, with deep opening mouth. That makes the welkin tremble, he proclaims Th' audacious felon. Foot by foot he marks His winding way. Over the watery ford, Dry sandy heaths, and stony barren hills, Unerring he pursues, till at the cot Anived, and, seizing by his guilty throat The caitiff vile, redeems the captive prey." THE SETTER is evidently the large spaniel improved to his peculiar size and beauty, and taught another way of marking his game, viz., by setting or crouching. If the form of the dog were not sufficiently satis- factory on this point, we might have recourse to histoi-y for information on it. Mr. Daniel, in his Rural Sports, has preserved a document, dated in the year 1685, in which a yeoman binds himself, for the sum of ten shillings, fully and effectually to teach a spaniel to sit partridges and pheasants. The first person, however, who systematically broke-in setting dogs, is supposed to have been Dudley Duke of Northumberland, in 1335. A singular dog-cause was tried in Westminster, in July, 1822. At a previous trial it was deter- mined that the mere possession of a dog, generally used for destroying game, was sufficient proof of its being actually so used. Mr. Justice Best, how- ever, determined that a man might be a breeder of such dogs without using them as game-dogs : and Mr. Justice Bailey thought that if a game- dog was kept in a yard, chained up by day, and let loose at night, and, being so trained as to guard the premises, he was to be considered as a yard- dog, and not as a game-dog. The setter is used for the same purpose as the pointer, and there is great difference of opinion with regard to their relative value as sporting-dogs. Setters are not so numerous ; and they are dearer, and with great difficulty obtained pure. It was long the fashion to cross and mix them with the pointer, by which no benefit was obtained, but the Ijeauty of the dog materially impaired ; many Irish sportsmen, however, were exceedingly careful to preserve the breed pure. Nothing of the pointer can be traced in them, and they are useful and beautiful dogs, altogether different in appearance from either the English or Scotch setter. The Irish sportsmen are, perhaps, a little too much prejudiced with regard to particular colom's. Their a80 ';>sSi*4 THE SETTER. dogs are either veiy red, or red and white, or lemon- coloured, or white, patched with deep chestnut; and it was necessary for them to have a black nose, and a black roof to tlie mouth. This peculiar dye is supposed to be as necessary to a good and genuine Irish setter as is the palate of a Blenheim spaniel to the purity of his breed. A true Irish setter will obtain a higher price than either an English or Scotch one. Fifty guineas constituted no unusual price for a brace of them, and even two hundred guineas have been given. It is, never- theless, doubtful whether they do in reality so much exceed the other breeds, and whether, al- though stout and hard-working dogs, and with excellent scent, they are not somewhat too head- strong and unruly. The setter is more active than the pointer. He has greater spirit and strength. He will better stand continued hard work. He will generally take the water when necessaiy, and, retaining the character of the breed, is more companionable and attached. He loves his master for himself, and not, like the pointer, merely for the pleasure he shares with him. His somewhat inferior scent, however, makes him a little too apt to mn into his game, and he occasionally has a will of his own. He requires good breaking, and plenty of work ; but that breaking must be of a peculiar character: it must not partake of the severity which too often accompanies, and unnecessarily so, the tuition of the pointer. He has more animal spirit than the pointer, but he has not so much patient courage ; and the chastisement, sometimes unnecessary and cruel, but leaving the pointer perfect in his work, and eager for it too, would make the setter dis- gusted with it, and leave him a mere blinker. It is difficult, however, always to decide the claim of superiority between these dogs. He that has a good one of either breed may be content, but the hneage of that dog must be pure. The setter, with much of the pointer in him, loses something in activity and endurance ; and the pointer, crossed with the setter, may have a degree of wildness and obstinacy, not a little annoying to his owner. The setter may be preferable when the ground is hard and rough ; for he does not soon become foot-sore. He may even answer the pui-pose of a springer for pheasants and woodcocks, and may be valuable in recovering a wounded bird. His scent may fre- quently be superior to that of the pointer, and sufficiently accurate to distinguish, better than the pointer, when the game is sprung; but the steadi- ness and obedience of the pointer will generally give him the preference, especially in a fair and tolerably smooth country. At the beginning of a season, and when the weather is hot, the pointer will have a decided advantage. Of the difference between the old English setter and the setters of the present day, we con- fess that we are ignorant, except that the first was the pure spaniel improved, and the latter the spaniel crossed too frequently with the pointer. It must be acknowledged, that of companion- ableness, and disinterested attachment and grati- tude, the pointer knows comparatively little. If lie is a docile and obedient servant in the field, it S81 is all we want. The setter is anquestiomably his superior iu every amiable quility. Mr. iilaiiie says, that a large setter ill witli the distemper, had been nursed by a lady more than three weeks. At length he became so ill as to be placed in a bed, where he remained a couple of days iu a dying state. After a short absence, the lady, re- eutiriug the rojm, observed him to i'ls. his eyes attentively ou her, and make an effort to crawl across the bed towards her. This he accomplished, evidently for the sole purpose of licking her hand, after which he immediately expired. THt; POINIKR. The pointer is evidently descended from the hound. It is the fo.x-hound searching for game by the scent, but more perfectly under the control of the sportsman, repressing his cry of joy when he finds his game, and his momentaiy pause, and gathering himself up in order to spring upon it, artificially converted into a steady and deliberate point. There still remains a strong resemblance in countenance and in form between the pointer and tlie fox-hound, except that the muzzle is shorter, and the ears smaller, and partly pen- dulous. Seventy or eighty years ago the breed of pointers was nearly white, or varied with liver- coloured spots ; some, however, belonging to the Duke of Kingston, were perfectly black. This pecidiarity of colour was supposed to be connected with e.xquisite perfection of scent. That is notthe case with the present black pointers, who are not superior to any others. Mr. Daniel relates an anecdote of one of his pointers. He had a dog that would always go round clos;-; to the hedges of a field before he would quarter his ground. He seemed to have observed that he most frequently found his game in the course of this circuit." Mr. Johnson gives the following characteristic sketches of the different breeds of pointer : — THE SP.VNISH POINTER, originally a native of Spain, was once considered to be a valuable dog. He stood higher on his legs, but was too large and heavy in his limbs, and had widely spread, ugly feet, exposing him to frequent • The Author of Tlie Field Book s.iys thai he saw an extremely small pointer, whose lengih, Irom the tip of the nose to the point of the tail, was only two feit and half an nieh, the lengdi of the head being six inches, and round the chest one foot and three inches He was an exquisite miniauire of the English pointer, being in all respects similar to him, except in his size. His colour was white, with dark liver-coloured patches on each side of the head, extending half down the neck. The ears, wiih some patches on the back, were also of the same colour, and numerous small dark brown spots appeared over his whole body and legs. This beautiful lillle animal had an exquisite sense of smell. Some of the same breed, and bong the property of the Earl of Lauderdale, were broken-in and made excellent pornters, although, from IQeir minute size, it could not be expected that ihey would be able to do much work. When intent upon any object, the dog assumed the same attitude as other pointers, holding up one of his feet.— The Field Book, p. 399. 282 lameness. His muzzle and head were large, cor- responding with the acuteness of his smell. His ears were large and pendent, and his body ill- formed. He was naturally an ill-tempered dog, growling at the hand that would caress him, even although it were his master's. He stood steadily to his birds ; but it was difficult to break him of chasing the hare. He was deficient in speed. His redeeming quality was his excellent scent, un- equalled in any other kind of dog. THE PORTUGUESE POINTER, although with a slighter form than the Spanish one, is defective in the feet, often crooked in the legs, and of a quarelsome disposition. He soon tires, and is much inclined to chase the hare. The tail is larger than that of the spaniel, and fully fringed. THE FRENCH POINTER is distinguished by a furrow between his nostrils, which materially interferes with the acuteness of smell. He is better formed and more active than either the Spanish or Portuguese dog, and capable of longer continued exertion; but he is apt to be quarrelsome, and is too fond of chasing the hare. THE RUSSIAN POINTER is a rough, ill-tempered animal, with too much tendency to stupidity, and often annoyed by vermin. He runs awkwardly with his nose near the gi'ound, and frequently springs his game. He also has the cloven or divided nose. THE EARLY TRAINING OF THE DOG. The education of these dogs should commence at an early period, whether conducted by the breeder or the sportsman ; and the first lesson — that on which the value of the animal, and the pleasure of its owner, will much depend — is a habit of subjection on the part of the dog, and kindness on the part of the master. This is a sine qua non. The dog must recognise in his owner a friend and a benefactor. This will soon establish in the mind of the quadmped a feeling of gratitude, and a desire to please. All this is natural to the dog, if he is encouraged by the master, and then the process of breaking-in may commence in good earnest. No long time probably passes ere the dog com- mits some little fault. He is careless, or obstinate, or cross. The owner puts on a serious counte- nance, he holds up his finger, or shakes his head, or produces the whip, and threatens to use it. Perhaps the infliction of a blow that breaks no bones occasionally follows. In the majority of cases nothing more is required. The dog suc- cumbs ; he asks to be forgiven ; or, if he has been self-willed, he may be speedily corrected without any serious punishment. A writer under the signature of " Soho," in The New Sporting Magazine for 1833, gives an interesting account of the schooling of the pointer or setter, thus commenced. A short abstract from it may not be unacceptable : — " The first lesson inculcated is that of passive obedience, and this enforced by the infliction of seve- rity as little as the case will admit. We will suppose the dog to be a setter. He is taken into the gar- den or into a field, and a strong cord about eighteen or twenty yards long is tied to his collar. The sportsman calls the dog to him, looks earnestly at him, gently presses him to the ground, and several times, with a loud but not an angry voice, says, ' Down ! ' or ' Do\\ti charge ! ' The dog knows not the meaning of this, and struggles to get up ; but as often as he straggles, the cry of ' Down charge ! ' is repeated, and the pressure is contiimed or increased. "This is repeated a longer or shorter time, until the dog, finding that no harm is meant, quietly submits. He is then permitted to rise, he is patted and caressed, and some food is given to him. The command to rise is also introduced by the terms ' Hie up ! ' A little afterwards the same process is repeated, and he straggles less, or perhaps ceases altogether to struggle. " The person whose circumstances permit hira occasionally to shoot over his little demesne, may very readily educate his dog, without having re- course to keepei's or professional breakers, among whom he would often be subject to imposition. Generally speaking, no dog is half so well broken as the one whose owner has taken the ti'ouble of training him. The first and grand thing is to obtain the attachment of the dog, by frequently feeding and caressing him, and giving him little hours of liberty under his own inspection ; but, every now and then, inculcating a lesson of obedi- ence, teaching him that every gambol must be under the control of his master ; frequently check- ing him in the midst of his riot with the order of ' Down charge ! ' patting him when he is instantly obedient; and rating or castigating him, but not too severely, when there is any reluctance to obey. Passive obedience is the Jirst 2'rinciple, and from ivhich no deviation should be allowed.^'- "Much kindness and gentleness ai'e certainly requisite when breaking-in the puppy, whether it be a pointer or a setter. There is heedlessness in the ^oung dog which is not readily got rid of until age has given him experience. He must not, however, be too severely corrected, or he may be spoiled for life. If considerable correction is some- times necessary, it should be followed, at a little » Another writer in the same volume gives also an interesting account of the management of the setter. 283 distance of time, by some kind usage. The memory of the suffering will remain ; but the feel- ing of attachment to the master will also remain, or rather be increased. The temper of a young dog must he almost as carefully studied as that of a human being. Timidity may be encouraged, and eagerness may be restrained, but affection must be the tie that binds him to his master, and renders him subservient to his will. " The next portion of the lesson is more diffi- cult to learn. He is no longer held by his master, but suffered to run over the field, seemingly at his pleasure, when, suddenly, comes the warning ' Down !' He perhaps pays no attention to it,' but gambols along until seized by his master, forced on the ground, and the order of 'Down!' some- what sternly uttered. " After a while he is suffered again to get up. He soon forgets what has occurred, and gallops away with as much glee as ever. Again the ' Down !' is heard, and again little or no attention is paid to it. His master once more lays hold of him and forces him on the ground, and perhaps inflicts a slight blow or two, and this process con- tinues until the dog finds that he must obey the command of ' Down charge !' " The owner will now probably walk from him a little way backward with his hand lifted up. If the dog makes the slightest motion, he must be sharply spoken to, and the order peremptorily enforced. " He must then be taught to ' back,' that is, to come behind his master when called. When he seems to understand all this, he is called by his master in a kindly tone, and patted and caressed. It is almost incredible how soon he will aftei"- wards understand what he is ordered to do, and perform it. " It will be seen by this that no one should attempt to break-in a dog who is not possessed of patience and perseverance. The sportsman must not expect to see a great deal of improvement from the early lessons. The dog will often forget that which was inculcated upon him a few hours before ; but perseverance and kindness will effect much : the first lessons over, the dog, beginning to perceive a little what is meant, will cheerfully and joyfully do his duty. " When there is much difficulty in teaching the dog his lesson, the fault lies as often with the master as with him ; or they are, generally speak- ing, both in fault. Some dogs cannot be mastered but by means of frequent correction. The less the sportsman has to do with them the better. Others will not endure the least correction, but become either ferocious or sulky. They should be disposed of as soon as possible. The majority of dogs are exceedingly sagacious. They possess strong rea- soning powers ; they understand, by intuition, almost every want and wish of their master, and they deserve the kindest and best usage. " The scholar being thus prepared, should be taken into the field, either alone, or, what is consider- ably better, with a weH-trained, steady dog. When the old dog makes a point, the master calls out, 'Down!' or 'Soho!'and holds up his hand, and approaches steadily to the birds ; and, if the young one runs in, or prepares to do so, as probably he will at first, he again raises his hand and calls out ' Soho ! ' If the youngster pays no attention to this, the whip must be used, and in a short time he will be steady enough at the first intimation of game. " If he springs any birds without taking notice of them, he should be dragged to the spot from which they rose, and ' Soho !' being cried, one or two sharp strokes with the whip should be inflicted. If he is too eager, he should be warned to ' take heed.' If he rakes or runs with his nose near the ground, he should be admonished to hold up, and, if he still persists, the muzzle-peg may be resorted to. Some persons fire over the dog for nmning at hares : but this is wrong ; foi-, beside the danger of wounding or even killing the animal, he will for some time afterwards be frightened at the sound, or even at the very sight of a gun. The best plan to accustom dogs to the gun, is occasion- ally to fire one off when they are being fed. " Some persons let their dog fetch the dead birds. This is very wrong. Except the sports- man has a double-barrelled gun, the dog should not be suffered to move until the piece is again charged. The young one, until he is thoroughly broken of it, is too apt to run-in, whether the bird is lulled or not, and which may create much mis- chief by disturbing the game. " Although excessive punishment should not be administered, yet no fault, however small, should pass without reproof; on the other had, he should be rewarded, but not too lavishly, for every instance of good conduct. " When the dog is gro^vn tolerably steady, and taught to come at the call, he should also learn to range and quarter his ground. Let some clear morning, and some place where the sportsman is likely to meet with game, be selected. Station him where the wind will blow in his face ; wave your hand and cry, ' Heigh on, good- dog !' Then let him go off to the right about seventy or eighty yards. After this call him in by another wave of the hand, and let him go the same distance to the left. Walk straight forward, with your eye always upon him ; then let him continue to cross from right to left, calling him in at the limit of each range. "This is at first a somewhat difficult lesson, and requires careful teaching. The same ground is never to be twice passed over. The sportsman watches every motion, and the dog is never trusted S84 out of sight, or allowed to' break fence. When this lesson is tolerably learned, and on some good scenting morning early in the season he may take the field, and perhaps find. Probably, he will be too eager, and spring his game. Make him down immediately, and take him to the place wliere the birds rose. Chide him with ' Steady !' ' How dare you!' Use no whip; but scold him well, and be assured that he will be more cautious. If possible, kill on the next chance. The moment the bird is down, he will probably rush in and seize it. He must be met with the same rebuff, ' Down charge !' If he does not obey, he deserves to have, and will have, a stroke with the whip. The gun being again charged, the bird is sought for, and the dog suffered to see it and play with it for a minute before it is put into the bag. " He will now become thoroughly fond of the sport, and his fondness will increase with each bird that is killed. At every time, however, whe- ther he kills or misses, the sportsman should make the dog ' Down charge,' and never allow him to ■rise until he has loaded. " If a hare should be wounded there will, oc- casionally, be considerable difficulty in preventing him from chasing her. The best broken and steadiest dog cannot always be restrained from running hares. He must be checked with ' Wme clutse,' and, if he does not attend, the sportsman must wait patiently. He will, by-and-by, come slinking along with his tail between his legs, con- scious of his fiiult. It is one, however, that admits of no pardon. He must be secured, and, while the field echoes with the cry of ' Ware chase,' he must be punished to a certain but not tuo great extent. The castigation must be repeated as often as he offends; or, if there is much difficulty in breaking him of the habit, he must be got rid of." The breaking-in or subjugation of pointers and setters is a very important, and occasionally a difficult affair; the pleasure of the sportsman, however, depends upon it. The owner of any considerable property will naturally look to his keeper to furnish him with dogs oir which li£ may depend, and he ought not to be disappointed ; for those wliich belong to other persons, or are brought at the beginning of the season, whatever account the breaker or the keeper of them may give, will too often be found deficient. THE OTTER HOUND used to be of a mingled breed, between the southern hound and the rough terrier, and in size between the harrier and the fox-hound. The head should be large and broad, the shoulders and quarters thick, and the hair strong, wiry, and rough. They used to be kept in small packs, for the e.xpress purpose of hunting the otter. Two hundred and fifty years ago otter-hunting was a favourite amusement in several parts of Great Britain. IMany of our streams then abounded with this destructive animal ; but, since the population of our country has become moi-e dense, and game-keepers are more numerous, and many contrivances are adopted to ensnare and destroy otters, few are now to be found. THE TURNSPIT. This dog was once a valuable auxiliary in the kitchen, by turning the spit before jacks were in- vented. It had a peculiar length of body, with short crooked legs, the tail curled, its ears long and pendent, and the head large in proportion to the body. It is still used in the kitchen on various parts of the Continent. There are some curious stories of the artfulness with which he often attempted to avoid the taskimposed uponhim. There is a variety of this dog ; the crooked- legged turnspit. CHAPTER IV. THE VAEIETIES OF THE DOG. THIRD DIVISION. The muzzle more or less shortened, the frontal sinus enlarged, and the cranium elevated and diminished in capacity. At the head of this inferior or brutal division of dog stands THE BULLDOG. The round, thick head, turned-up nose, and thick and pendulous lips of this dog are familiar to all, while his ferocity makes him in the highest degree dangerous. In general he makes a silent i although a ferocious attack, and the persisting powers of his teeth and jaws enable him to keep his hold against any but the greatest efforts, so that the utmost mischief is likely to ensue as well to the innocent visitor of his domicile as the ferocious intruder. The bulldog is scarcely capable of any education, and is fitted for nothing but ferocity and combat. The name of this dog is derived from his being too often employed, until a few years ago, in baiting the bull. It was practised by the low and disso- SHO lute in many parts of the country. Dogs were bred and trained for the purpose ; and, while many of them were injured or destroyed, the head of the bull was lacerated in the most barbarous manner. Nothing can exceed the fury with whicli the bull-dog rushed on his foe, and the obstinacy with which he maintained his hold. He fastened upon the lip, the muzzle, or the eye, and there he hung, in spite of every effort of the bull to free himself from his antagonist. Bull-dogs are not so numerous as they were a few years ago ; and every kind-hearted person will rejoice to hear that bull-baiting is now put down by legal authority in every part of the kingdom. THE BULL-TERRIER. This dog is a cross between the bull-dog and the terrier, and is generally superior, both in appearance and value, to either of its progenitors. A second cross considerably lessens the under- hanging of the lower jaw, and a third entirely removes it, retaining the spirit and determination of the animal. It forms a steadier friendship than either of them, and the principal objection to it is its love of wanton mischief, and the dan- gerous irascibility which it occasionally exhibits. Sir Walter Scott, a warm friend of dogs, and whose veracity cannot be impeached, gives an interesting account of a favourite one belonging to him. " The cleverest dog T ever had was what is called a bull-dog terrier. I taught him to under- stand a great many words, insomuch that I am positive the communication between the canine species and ourselves might be greatly enlarged. Camp, the name of my dog, once bit the baker when bringing bread to the family. I beat him, and explained the enormity of the offence ; after which, to the last moment of his life, he never heard the least allusion to the story without creep- ing into the darkest corner of the room. Towards tlie end of his life, when he was unable to attend me while I was on horseback, he generally watched for my return, and, when the servant used to tell him his master was coming down the hill, or through the moor, although he did not use any gesture to explain his meaning, Camp was never known to mistake him, but either went out at the front to go up the hill, or at the back to get down to the moor-side ! ' THE MASTIFF. The head considerably resembles that of the bull-dog, but with the ears dependent. The upper lip falls over the lower jaw. The end of the tail is turned up, and frequently the fifth toe of the hind feet is more or less developed. The nostrils are 'm\ TiiK separated oue from another by a deep furrow. He has a grave and somewhat sullen countenance, and his deep-toned bark is often heard during the night. The mastiff is taller than the bull-dog, but not so deep in the chest, and his head is large compared with his general form. It is probable that the mastiff is an original breed peculiar to the British islands. He seems to be fully aware of the impression which his large size makes on every stranger ; and, in the night especially, he watches the abode of his master with the completest vigilance ; in fact, no- tliiiig would tempt him to betray the confidence wliich is rsposeJ in him Captain Brown states that, " notwithstanding his commanding appearance and the strictness with which he guards the property of his master, he is possessed of the greatest mildness of conduct, and is as grateful for any favours bestowed upon him as is the most diminutive of the canine tribe. There is a remarkable and peculiar warmth in his attachments. He is aware of all the duties required of him, and he punctually discharges them. In the course of the night he several times examines everything with which he is intrusted with the most scrupulous care, and, by repeated barkings, warns the household or the depredator that he is at the post of duty." * 'Li^ The mastiff from Cuba requires some mention, and will call up some of the most painful recollec- tions in the history of the human race. He was not a native of Cuba, but imported into the country. The Spaniards had possessed themselves of several of the South American islands. They found them peopled with Indians, and those of a sensual, brutish, and barbarous class — continually making war with tlieir neighbours, indulging in an irreconcileable hatred of the Spaniards, and deter- mined to expel and destroy them. In self-defence, they were driven to some means of averting the destruction with which they were threatened. They procured some of these mastitis, by whose assistance they penetrated into every part of the country, and destroyed the greater portion of the former inhabitants. Las Casas, a Catholic priest, and whose life was employed in endeavouring to mitigate the sufferings of the original inhabitants, says that "it was resolved to march against the Indians, who had fled to the mountains, and they were chased like wild beasts, with the assistance of bloodhounds, who had been trained to a thirst for * Brown's Biographical Sketches, p. 425. 2b7 human blood, so that before I had left the island it had become almost entirely a desert." THE ICELAND DOG. The head is rounder than that of the northern dogs ; the ears partly erect and partly pendent ; and the fur soft and long, especially behind the fore-legs and on the tail. It much resembles the Turkish dog removed to a colder climate. This dog is exceedingly useful to the Icelanders ■while travelling over the snowy deserts of the north. By a kind of intuition he rarely fails in choosing the shortest and the safest course. He also is more aware than his master of the approach of the snow-storms ; and is a most valuable ally against the attack of the Polar bear, wlio, drifted on masses of ice from the neighbouring continent, often commits depredations among the cattle, and even attacks human beings. When the dog is first aware of the neighbourhood of the bear, lie sets up a fearful howl, and men and dogs hasten to hunt down and destroy the depredator. The travelling in Iceland is sometimes exceed- ingly dangerous at the beginning of the winter. A thin layer of snow covers and conceals some of the chasms with which that region abounds. Should the traveller fall into one of them, the dog proves a most useful animal ; for he runs immediately across the snowy waste, and, by his howling, induces the traveller's friends to hasten to his rescue. THE TERRIER. The forehead is convex ; the eye prominent ; the muzzle pointed ; the tail thin and arched ; the fur short ; the ears of moderate size, half erect, and usually of a deep-black colour, with a yellow spot over the eyes. It is an exceedingly useful animal ; but not so indispensable an accompani- ment to a pack of fox-hounds as it used to be accounted. Foxes are not so often unearthed as they formerly were,, yet many a day's sport would be lost without the terrier. Some sportsmen used to have two terriers accompanying in the pack, one being smaller than the other. This was a very proper provision ; a large terrier might be incapable of penetrating into the earth, and a small one might permit the escape of the prey. Many terriers have lost their lives by scratching up the earth behind them, and thus depriving themselves of all means of retreat. The coat of the terrier may be either smooth or rough ; the smooth-haired ones are more delicate in appearance, and are somewhat more exposed to injury or accident ; but in courage, sagacity, and strength, there is very little difference if the dogs are equally well bred. The rough terrier possibly obtained his shaggy coat from the cur, and the smooth terrier may derive his from the hound. , The terrier is seldom of much service until he is twelve months old ; and then, incited by natural propensity, or the example of the older ones, or urged on by the huntsman, he begins to discharge his supposed duty. An old terrier is brought to the mouth of the earth in which a vixen fo.x — a fox with lier young ones — has taken up her abode, and is sent in to worry and drive her out. Some young terriers are brought to the mouth of the hover, to listen to the process that is going forward within, and to be excited to the utmost extent of which they are capable. The vixen is at length driven out, and caught at the mouth of the hole ; and the young ones are suffered to rush in, and worry or destroy their first prey. They want no after-tuition to prepare them for the discharge of their duty. This may be pardoned. It is the most ready way of training the young dog to his future busi- ness ; but it is hoped that no reader of this work will be guilty of the atrocities that are often prac- tised. An old fox, or badger, is caught, his under jaw is sawn off, and the lower teeth are forcibly extracted, or broken. A hole is then dug in the earth, or a barrel is placed large and deep enough to permit a terrier, or perhaps two of them, to enter. Into this cavity the fox or badger is thrust, and a terrier rushes after him, and drags him out again. The question to be ascertained is, how many times in a given period the dog will draw this poor tortured animal out of the barrel — an exhibition of cruelty which no one should be able to lay to the charge of any human being. It is a principle not to be departed from, that wanton and useless barbarity should never be permitted. The government, to a certain extent, has interfered, and a noble society has been established to limit, or, if possible, to prevent the infliction of useless pain. The terrier is, however, a valuable dog, in the house and the farm. The stoat, the pole-cat, and the weazel, commit great depredations in the fields, the barn, and granary ; and to a certain extent, the ter- rier is employed in chasing or destroying them ; but itisnotoftenthathe has afairchance to attack them. He is more frequently uesd in combating the fat. The mischief effected by rats is almost incredi- ble. It has been said that, in some cases, in the article of corn, these animals consume a quantity of food equal in value to the rent of the farm. Here the dog is usefully employed, and in his very element, especially if there is a cross of the bull-dog about him. There are some extraordinary accounts of the dexterity, as well as corn-age, of the terrier in destroying rats. The feats of a dog called " Billy " will be long remembered. He was matched to destroy one hundred large rats in eight and a half minutes. The rats were brought into the ring in bags, and as soon as the number was complete, he was put over the railing. In six minutes and s 2 thirty-five seconds they were all destroyed. In I another match he destroyed the same number in j six minutes and thirteen seconds. At length, I when he was getting old, and had hut two teeth and one eye left, a wager was laid of thirty sove- 1 reigns, by the owner of a Berkshire bitch, that I she would kill fifty rats in less time than Billy, j The old dog killed his fifty in five minutes and six ! second|s. The pit was then cleared, and the bitch let in. When she had killed thirty rats, she was completely exhausted, fell into a fit, and lay barking and yelping, utterly incapable of completinghertask. The speed of the terrier is very great. One has been known to run six miles in thirty-two minutes. He needs to be a fleet dog, if, with his comparatively little bulk, he can keep up with the foxhound. A small breed of wry-legged terriers was once ] in repute, and, to a certain degree, is retained for ! the purpose of hunting rabbits. It probably origi- nated in some rickety specimens, remarkable for the slow development of their frame, except in the I head, the belly, and the joints, which enlarge at the expense of the other parts. THE SCOTCH TERRIER. There is reason to believe that this dog is far older than the English terrier. There are three varieties : first, the common Scotch terrier, twelve or thirteen inches high ; his body muscular and compact— considerable breadth across the loins — the legs shorter and stouter than those of the English terriers. The head large in proportion to the size of the body — the muzzle small and pointed — strong marks of intelligence in the countenance — warm attachment to his master, and the evident devotion of every power to the fulfilment of his wishes. The hair is long and tough, and extending over the whole of the frame. In colour, they are black or fawn : the white, yel- low, or pied are always deficient in purity of blood. Another species has nearly the same confor- mation, but is covered with longer, more curly, and stouter hair : the legs being apparently, but not actually shorter. This kind of dog prevails in the greater part of the Western Islands of Scot- land, and some of them, where the hair has obtained its full development, ai'e much admired. Her Majesty had one from Islay, a faithful and affectionate creature, yet with all the spirit and determination that belongs to his breed. The writer of this account had occasion to operate on this poor fellow, who had been bitten under some- what suspicious cii-cumstances. He submitted without a cry or a struggle, and seemed to be perfectly aware that we should not put him to pain without having some good purpose in view. A third species of terrier is of a considerably 289 larger bulk, and three or four inches taller than either of the others. Its liair is shorter than that of the other breeds, and is hard and wiiy. THE SHOCK-DOG is traced by Buffon, hut somewhat erroneously, to a mixture of the small Danish dog and the pug. The head is round, the eyes large, but somewhat concealed by its long and curly air, the tail curved and bent forward. The muzzle resembles that of the pug. It is of a small size, and is used in this country and on the Continent as a lap-dog. It is very properly described by tlie author of "The Field Book" as a useless little animal, seeming to possess no other quality than that of a faithful attachment to his mistress. THE ARTOIS DOG, ■with his short, flat muzzle, is a produce of the shock-dog and the pug. He has nothing peculiar to recommend him. THE AND.\LUSIAN, OR ALICANT DOG, has the short muzzle of the pug with the long hair of the spaniel. THE EGYPTIAN AXD BARBARY DOG, according to Cuvier, has a very thick and round head, the ears erect at the base, large and move- able, and carried horizontally ; the skin nearly naked, and black or dark-tlesh colour, with large patches of brown. A sub-variety has a kind of mane behind the head, formed of long stiff hairs. Buffon imagines that the shepherd's dog — transported to different climates, and acquiring different habits, was the ancestor of the various species with which almost every country abounds ; but whence they originally came it is impossible to say. They vary in their size, their colour, their attitude, their usual exterior, and their strangely different interior construction. Trans- ported into various climates, they are necessarily submitted to the influence of heat and cold, and of food more or less abundant, and more or less suitable to their natural organization, but the reason or the derivation of these differences of structure it is not always easy to explain. CHAPTER V. THE GOOD QUALITIES OF THE DOG ; THE SENSE OF SMELL; INTELLIGENCE ; MOR.\L QUALITIES; DOG- CARTS ; CROPPING ; TAILING ; BKEAKING-IN ; DOG-PITS ; DOG-STEALING. In our history of the different breeds of the dog we have seen enough to induce us to admire and love him. His courage, his fidelity, and the degree in which he often devotes every power that he possesses to our service, are ciixumstances that we can never forget nor oveidook. His very foibles occasionally attach him to us. We may select a pointer for the pureness of his blood and the perfection of his education. He transgresses in the field. We call him to us ; we scold him well ; perchance, we chastise him. He lies motion- less and dumb at our feet. The punishment being over, he gets up, and, by some significant gesture, acknowledges his consciousness of deserving what he has suffered. The writer operated on a pointer bitch for an enlarged cancerous tumour, accom- panied by much inflammation and pain in the sur- rounding parts. A word or two of Idndness and of caution were all that were necessaiy, although, in order to prevent accidents, she.had been bound securely. The flesh quivered as the knife pursued its coui-se — a moan or two escaped her, but yet she did not stmggle ; and her first act, after all ■was over, was to lick the operator's hand. From the combination of various causes, the history of no animal is more interesting than that of the dog. First, Ms intimate association with man, not only as a valuable protector, but as a constant and faithful companion throughout all the vicissitudes of life. Secondly, from his natural endowments, not consisting in the exquisite deli- cacy of one individual sense— not merely combining memory with reflection — but possessing qualities of the mind that stagger us in the contemplation of them, and which we can alone account for in the gradation existing in that wonderful system which, by different links of one vast chain, extends from the first to the last of all things until it forms a perfect whole on the wonderful confines of the spiritual and material world. We here quote the beautiful account of Sir Walter Scott and his dogs, as described by Henry Hallam:— " But looking towards the grassy moimd ■Where calm the Douglas chieftains lie, ■Who, living, quiet never found, I straightway learnt a lesson high ; For there an old man sat serene, And well I knew that thoughtful mien Of him whose early lyre had thro\ra O'er mouldering walls the magic of its tone. It was a comfort, too, to see Those dogs that from him ne'er would rove, And always eyed him reverently, ■U'ith glances of depending love. t9d They know not of the ( Which marks him to my reasoning sense; They know but that he "is a man, And still to them is kind, and glads them all he can. And hence their quiet looks confiding; Hence grateful instincts, seated deep. By whose great bond, were ill betiding. They 'd loose their own, his Hfe to keep. "What joy to watch in lower creature Such dawning of a moral nature. And how (the rule all things obey) They look to a higher mind to be their law and stay ! " The suliject of the intellectual and moral qualities of the inferior animals is one highly in- teresting and somewhat misunderstood — urged perhaps to a ridiculous extent by some persons, yet altogether Jieglected by others who have no feeling for any but themselves. Anatomists have compared the relative hulk of the bi'ain in different animals, and the result is not a little interesting. In man the weight of the brain amounts on the average to l-oOlh part of the body. In the Newfoundland dog it does not amount to l-60th part, or to 1-lOOth part in the poodle and barbet, and not to more than l-300th part in the ferocious and stupid bull-dog. When the brain is cut, it is found to be com- posed of two substances, essentially different in constmction and function — the cortical and the medullary. The first is small in quantity, and principally concerned in the food and reproduction of the animal, and the cineritious in a great measure the register of the mind. Brute strength seems to be the character of the former, and superior intelligence of the latter. There is, com- paring bulk with bulk, less of the medullai-y sub- stance in the horse than in the ox — and in the dog than in the horse — and they are characterized as the sluggish ox, the intelligent horse, and the intellectual and companionable dog. From the medullary substance proceed certain cords or prolongations, termed nerves, by which the animal is enabled to receive impressions from sur- rounding objects and to connect himself with them, and also to possess many pleasurable or painful sensations. One of them is spread over the mem- brane of the nose, and gives the sense of smell ; another expands on the back of the eye, and the faculty of sight is gained ; a third goes to the in- tei-nal structure of the ear, and the animal is con- scious of sound. Other nerves, proceeding to different parts, give the faculty of motion, while an equally important one bestows the power of feeling. One division, springing from a prolonga- tion of the brain, and yet within the skull, wanders to different parts of the frame, for important pur- poses connected with respiration or breathing. The act of breathing is essential to life, and were it to cease, the animal would die. There are other nerves — the sympathetic — so called from their union and sympathy with all the others, and identified with life itself. They pro- ceed from a small ganglion or enlargement in the upper part .of the neck, or from a collection of minute ganglia within the abdomen. They go to the heart, and it beats ; and to the stomach, and it digests. They form a net-work round each vessel, and the frame is nourished and built up. They are destitute of sensation, and they are per- fectly beyond the control of the will. We have been accustomed, and properly, to regard the nervous system, or that portion of it which is connected with animal life— that which I'enders us conscious of suiTounding objects and susceptible of pleasure and of pain — as the source of intellectual power and moral feeling. It is so with ourselves. All oiir knowledge is derived from our perception of things around us. A cer- tain impression is made on the outward fibres of a sensitive nerve. That impression, in some mys- terious way, is conveyed to the brain ; and there it is received — registered — stored — and compared; there its connexions are traced and its conse- quences appreciated ; and thence a variety of in- teresting impressions are conveyed and due use is made of them. THE SENSE OF SMELL. Our subject — the intellectual and moral feel- ings of brutes, and the mechanism on which they depend — may be divided into two parts, the por- tion that receives and conveys, and that which stores up and compares and uses the impression. The portion that receives and conveys is far more developed in the brute than in the human being. Whatever sense we take we cleai'ly per- ceive the triumph of animal power. The olfactory nerve in the horse, the dog, the ox, and the swine, is the largest of all the cerebral nerves, and has much greater comparative bulk in the quadruped than in the human being. The sense of smell hearing proportion to the nen-e on which it depends, is yet more acute. In man it is connected with pleasure — in the inferior animals with life. The relative size of the nei-ve bears an invariable proportion to the necessity of an acute sense of smell in the various animals — large in the horse compared with the olfactoiy nerve in the human being — larger in the ox, who is often sent into the fields to shift for himself— larger still in the swine, whose food is buried under the soil, or deeply immersed in the filth or refuse — and still larger in the dog, the acuteness of whose scent is so connected with our pleasure. INTELLIGENCE. We find little mention of insanity in the do- mesticated animals in any of our modem authors, whether treating on agriculture, horsemanship, or 291 veterinary medicine, and yet there are some singu lar and very interesting cases of aberration of intellect. The inferior animals are, to a certain extent, endowed with the same faculties as our- selves. They are even susceptible of the same moral qualities. Hatred, love, fear, hope, joy, distress, courage, timidity, jealousy, and many varied passions influence and agitate them, as they do the human being. The dog is an illustra- tion of this — the most susceptible to every im- pression— approaching the nearest to man in his instincts, and in many actions that surpiise the philosopher, who justly appreciates it. What eagerness to bite is often displayed by the dog when labouring under enteritis, and espe- cially by him who has imbibed the poison of rabies ! How singular is the less dangerous malady which induces the horse and the dog to press uncon- eciously forward under the influence of vertigo ! — the eagerness with which, when labouring under phrenitis, he strikes at everything with bis foot, or rushes upon it to seize it with his teeth ! A kind of nostalgia is often recognised in that de- pression which notbing can dissipate, and the invincible aversion to food, by means of which many animals perish, who are prevented from returning to the place where tbey once lived, and the localities to which they had been accustomed. These are circumstances proving that the dog is endowed with intelligence and with affections like ours ; and, if they do not equal ours, they are of the same cbaracter. With regard to the foundation of intellectual power, viz., attention, memory, association, and imagination, the difference between man and ani- mals is in degree, and not in kind. Thus stands the account, — with the quadruped as well as the biped, — the impression is made on the mind; attention fixes it there ; memoiy recurs to it ; imagination combines it, rightly or erroneously, with many other impressions ; judgment deter- mines the value of it, and the conclusions that are to be drawn from it, if not with logical precision, yet with sufficient accuracy for every practical purpose. A hitch, natm-ally ill-tempered, and that would not suffer a stranger to touch her, had scirrhous enlargement on one of her teats. As she lay in the lap of her mistress, an attempt was repeatedly made to examine the tumour, in spite of many desperate attempts on her part to bite. All at once, bowever, something seemed to strike her mind. She whined, wagged her tail, and sprung from the lap of her mistress to the ground. It was to crouch at the feet of the surgeon, and to lay herself down and expose the tumour to his in- spection. She submitted to a somewhat painful examination of it, and to a far more serious opera- tion afterwards. Some years passed away, and whenever she saw the operator, she testified htr joy and her gratitude in the most expressive and endearing manner. A short time since, the following scene took place in a street adjoining Hanover Square. It was an exhibition of a highly interesting character, and worthy to be placed upon record. The editor of the Lancet having heard that a French geirtleman (M. Leonard), who had for some time been engaged in instructing two dogs in various performances that required the exercise, not merely of the natural instincts of the animal and the power of imitation, but of a higher intellect, and a degree of reflec- tion and judgment far greater than is commonly developed in the dog, was residing in London, obtained an introduction, and was obligingly f;i- voured by M. Leonard with permission to hold a conversazione with his extraordinary pupils. He thus describes the interview : — Two fine dogs, of the Spanish breed, were in- troduced by M. Jjeonard, with the customary French politesse, the largest by the name of M. Philax, the other as M. Brae (or spot); the former had been in training three, the latter two, years. They were in vigorous health, and, having bowed very gracefully, seated themselves on the hearth- rug side by side. M. Leonard then gave a lively description of the means he had employed to de- velop the cerebral system in these animals — how, from having been fond of the chace, and ambitious of possessing the best-trained dogs, he had em- ployed the usual course of training — how tbe con- viction had been impressed on his mind, that by gentle usage, and steady perseverance in inducing the animal to repeat again and again what was required, not only would the dog be capable of performing that specific act, but that part of the brain which was brought into activity by the men- tal effort would become more largely developed, and hence a permanent increase of mental power be obtained. This reasoning is in accordance with the kno^^^l laws of the physiology of the nervous system, and is fraught with the most important results. We may refer the reader interested in the subject to the masterly little work of Dr. Verity, " Changes produced in the Nervous System by Civilization." After this introduction, M. Leonard spoke to his dogs in French, in his usual tone, and ordered one of them to walk, the other to lie down, to run, to gallop, halt, crouch, &c., which they performed as promptly and correctly as the most docile chil- dren. Then he directed them to go through the usual exercises of the manege, which they performed as well as the best trained ponies at Astley's. He next placed six cards of different colours on the floor, and, sitting with his back to the dogs, directed one to pick up the blue card, and the other the white, &c., vaiying his orders rapidly, and 292 speaking in such a manner that it was impossible the dogs could have executed his commands if they had not had a perfect knowledge of the words. For instance, M. Leonard said, " Philax, take the red card and give it to Brae ; and. Brae, take the white card and give it to Philax ; " the dogs instantly did this, and exchanged cards with each other. He then said, " Philax, put your card on the green, and Brae, put yours on the blue;" and this was instantly performed. Pieces of bread and meat -were placed on the floor, with figured cards, and a variety of directions were given to the dogs, so as to put their intelligence and obedience to a severe test. They brought the meat, bread, or cards, as commanded, but did not attempt to eat or to touch unless ordered. Philax was then ordered to bring a piece of meat and give it to Brae, and then Brae was told to give it back to Philax, who was to return it to its place. Philax was next told he might bring a piece of bread and eat it ; but, before he had time to swallow it, his master forbade him, and directed him to show that he had not disobeyed, and the dog instantly protruded the crust between his lips. While many of these feats were being performed, M. Ijeonard snapped a whip violently, to prove that the animals were so completely under discipline, that they would not heed any interruption. After many other performances, M. Leonard invited a gentleman to play a game of dominos with one of them. The younger and slighter dog then seated himself on a chair at the table, and the writer and M. Leonard seated themselves opposite. Six dominos were placed on their edges in the usual manner before the dog, and a like number before the writer. The dog having a double number, took one up in his mouth, and put it in the middle of the table ; the writer placed a corresponding piece on one side ; the dog imme- diately played another correctly, and so on until all the pieces were engaged. Other six dominos were then given to each, and the writer intentionally placed a wrong number. The dog looked sur- prised, stared very earnestly at the writer, growled, and finally barked angrily. Finding that no notice was taken of his remonstrances, he pushed away the wrong domino with his nose, and took up a suitable one from his own pieces, and placed it in its stead. The writer then played correctly ; the dog followed, and won the game. Not the slightest intimation could have been given by M. Leonard to the dog. This mode of piny must have been entirely the result of his own observation and judgment. It should he added that the perform- ances were strictly private. The owner of the dogs was a gentleman of independent fortune, and the instruction of his dogs had been taken up merely as a curious and amusing investigation.* . * Plutarch relates that, at the theatre of Marcellus, a dog was exhibited before the emperor Vespasian, so well instructed as to j Another strange attainment of the dog is the learning to speak. The French Academicians mention one of these animals that could call in an intelligible manner for tea, coffee, chocolate, &c. The account is given by the celebrated Leibnitz, who communicated it to the Royal Academy of France. This dog was of a middling size, and was the property of a peasant in Saxony. A little boy, a peasant's son, imagined that he perceived in the dog's voice an indistinct resem- blance to certain vrords, and therefore took it into his head to teach him to speak. For this purpose he spared neither time nor pains with his pupil, who was about three years old when his learned education commenced, and in process of time he was able to articulate no fewer than thirty distinct words. He was, however, somewhat of a truant, and did not very willingly exert his talent, and was rather pressed than otherwise into the service of literature. It was necessary that the words should be pronounced to him each time, and then he repeated them after his preceptor. Leibnitz attests that he heard the animal talk in this way, and the French Academicians add, that unless they had received the testimony of so celebrated a person they would scarcely have dared to report the circumstance. It took place in Misnia, in Saxony. THE MOKAL QUALITIES OF TIIE DOG. We pass on to another division of our subject, the moral qualities of the dog, strongly developed and beautifully displayed, and often putting the biped to shame. It is truly said of the dog that he possesses "Many a good And useful quality, and virtue too. Attachment never to be weaned or changed By any change of fortune ; proof alike Against unkindness, absence, and neglect; Fidelity, that neither bribe nor threat Can move or warp ; and gratitude, for small And trivial favours, lasting as the life. And glistening even in the dying eye." It may here be noticed that, among the inferior animals with large nerves and more medullary substance, there are acuter senses ; but maii ex- celling them in the general bulk of his brain, and more particularly in the cortical portion of it, has far superior powers of mind. These are circum- stances that deserve the deepest consideration. In their wild state the brutes have no concern — no idea beyond their food and their reproduction. In their domesticated state, they are doomed to be the servants of man. Their power of mind is sufficient eicercise in every kind of dance. He afterwards feigned illness in a most singular manner, so as to strike the spectators with astonish- ment. He first exhibited various symptoms of pain ; he then fell down as if dead, and, afterwards seeming to revive, as if waking from a profound sleep, and then sported about and showed various demonstrations of joy. 293 to qualify them for this service ; but were propor- tionate intellectual capacity added to this — were they made conscious of their strength, and of the objects that could be effected by it — they would burst their bonds, and man would in his turn be the victim and the slave. There is an important faculty, tenned attention. It is that which distinguishes the promising pupil from him of whom no good hope could be formed, and the scientific man from the supei-ficial and ignor- ant one. The power of keeping the mind steadily bent upon one jmrpose is the great secret of indi- vidual and moral improvement. We see the habit of attention carried in the dog to a very considera- ble extent. The terrier eagerly watching for vermin — the sporting dog standing stanch to his point, however he may be annoyed by the blunders of his companion, or the unskilfulness of his master — the foxhound, insensible to a thousand scents, and deaf to every other sound, while he anxiously and perseveringly searches out the track of his prey — these are striking illustrations of the power of attention. Then, the impression having been received, and the mind having been employed in its examina- tion, it is treasured up in the storehouse of the mind for future use. This is the faculty of memoiy, and a most important one it is. Of the memory of the cloy, and the recollection of kindness received, there are a thousand stoi'ies, from the return of Ulysses to the present day, and we have seen enough of that faitliful animal to believe most of them. An officer was abroad with his regiment, during the American war. He had a fine Newfoundland dog, his constant companion, whom lie left with his family. After the lapse of several years he re- turned. His dog met him at the door ; leaped upon his neck, licked his face, and died. Of the accuracy and retentiveness of memoiy in the dog, as respects the instruction he has received from his master, we have abundant proof in the pointer and the hound, and it may per- haps be with some, as with men, that the lesson must sometimes be repeated, and even impressed on the memory in a way not altogether pleasant. DOG-CAETS. These were, and still are in the country, con- nected with many an act of atrocious cruelty. We do not object to the dog as a beast of draught. He is so in the northern regions, and he is as happy as any other animal in those cold and inhospitable countries. He is so in Holland, and he is as com- fortable there as any other beast that wears the collar. He is not so in Newfoundland : there he is shamefully treated. It is to the abuse of the thing — the poor, and half-star\-ed condition of the animal ; the scandalous weight that he is made to draw, and the infamous usage to which he is ex- posed, that we object. We would put him pre- cisely on the same footing with the horse, and then we should be able, perhaps, to afford him, not all the protection we could wish, but nearly as much as we have obtained for the horse. We would have every cart licensed, not for the sake of adding to the revenue, but of getting at the owner ; and therefore the taxing need not be any great sum. We would have the cart licensed for the carrj-ing of goods only ; or a separate licence taken out if it carried or drew a human being. It is here that the cruelty principally exists. Before the dog-carts were put down in the metro- polis, we then saw a man and a woman in one of these carts, drawn by a single dog, and going at full trot. Eveiy passenger execrated them, and the trot was increased to a gallop, in order the more speedily to escape the just reproaches that proceeded from every mouth. We would have the name and address of the owner, and the number of the cart, painted on some conspicious part of the vehicle, and in letters and figures as large as on the common carts. Every passenger who wit- nessed any flagrant act of cruelty would then be enabled to take the number of the cart, and sum- I mon the owner ; and the police should have the same power of interference which they have with regard to other vehicles. After a plan like this had been working a little while, the nuisance would be materially abated, and, indeed, the consciousness of the ease \vith which the offender might be summoned, would go far to get red of it. This is an infliction of too much torture for the gratification of a nonsensical fancy ; and, after all, in the opinion of many, and of those, too, who are fondest of dogs, the animal looks far better in his natural state than when we have exercised all our cruel art upon him. Besides, the effects of this absurd amputation do not cease with the healing of the ear. The intense inflammation that we have set up materially injures the internal stracture of this organ. Deafness is occasionally produced by it in some dogs, and constantly in others. The frequent deafness of the pug is solely attributable to the outrageous as well as absurd rounding of his ears. The almost invariable deaf- ness of the white wire-haired terrier is to be traced to this cause. TAILING. Then the tail of the dog does not suit the fancy of the owner. It must be shortened in some of these animals, and taken off altogether in others. If the sharp, strong scissors, with a ligature, were used, the operation, although still indefensible, 294 would not be a very cruel one, for the tail may be removed almost in a moment, and the wound soon heals ; but for the beastly gnawing off of the part — and the drawing out of the tendons aud nerves — these are the acts of a cannibal ; and he who orders or perpetrates a barbarity so nearly approach- ing to cannibalism deserves to be scouted from all society. DEW-CLAWS. Next comes the depriving of the dog of his deic-clmvs— the supplementary toes a little above the foot. They are supposed to interfere with hunting by becoming entangled with the grass or underwood. This rarely happens. The truth of the matter is, they are simply illustrations of the uniformity of structure which prevails in all ani- mals, so far as is consistent with tlieir destiny. The dew-claws only make up the number of toes in other animals. If they are attached, as they are in some dogs, simply by a portion of skin, they may be removed without any very great pain, yet the man of good feeling would not meddle with them. He would not unnecessarily inflict any pain that he can avoid ; and here in several of the breeds the toe is united by an actual joint ; and if they are dissected because they are a little in the way, it is a barbarous operation and nothing can justify it. BBEAKING-IN. The cruelties that are perpetrated on puppies during the course of their education or hreaking-in, are sometimes infamous. Young dogs, like young people, must be to a certain degree coerced ; but these animals receive from nature so great an aptitude for learning, and practising that which we require of them, and their own pleasure is so much connected with what they leam, that there is no occasion for one-tenth part of the correction that is occasionally inflicted ; and the frequent conse- quence of the cruelty to which they are subjected, is cowardice or ferocity during life. Not many years ago, as the author was going over one of the commons in the neighbourhood of the metropolis, now enclosed, he heard the loud sounds of the lash and the screams of a dog. He hurried on, and found two men, one holding a greyhound while another was unmercifully flogging him. He had inflicted many lashes, and was con- tinuing the correction. The author indignantly interfered, and the dog was liberated, but with a great deal of abuse from the men ; and a gentle- man galloping up, and who was the owner of the dog, and a Middlesex magistrate to boot, seemed disposed to support his people in no very measured temis. On being addressed, however, by name, and recognising the speaker, and his attention ■being directed to the uhalcd and even bloody state of the dog, he offered the best excuse that he could. We met again some months afterwards. "That hiding," said he, "that offended you so much, did Carlo good, for he has not been touched since." " No," was the reply ; " you were a little ashamed of your fellows, and have altered your system, and find that your dogs do not want this unmerciful negro-whipping." Stories are told of the kennel-hare — a hare kept on purpose, and which is sometimes shown to the fox or staghounds. The moment that any of them open, they are tied up to the whipping-post, and flogged, while the keepers at every stroke call out, " Ware hare ! " A sheep has also been shown to them, or still is, after which another unmerciful flogging is administered, amidst cries of " Ware sheep ! " If this is not sufficient, some of the wool is dipped in train oil, and put into the dog's mouth, which is sewed up for many hours in order to cure him of sheep-biting. There was an almost similar punishment for killing poultry ; and there was the puzzle and the check-collar, cruelly em- ployed, for killing other dogs. There is a great deal of truth, and there may occasionally be some exaggeration in these ac- counts ; but the sportsman who is indebted for the pleasures of the field to the intelligence and exertions of his horses and his dogs, is bound, by every principle that can influence an honourable mind, to defend them from all wanton and useless cruelty. There is a dog, and a faithful and valu- able one, that powerfully demands the assistance of the humane — the yard or watch-dog. He is not only for the most part deprived of his liberty, but too often neglected and made unnecessarily to suffer. How seldom do we see him in the enjoy- ment of a good bed of straw, or, rather, how fre- quently is everything about his kennel in a most fillthy and disgusting state ! The following hint not only relates to him, but to every dog that is tied up out of doors. " Their cribs or their kennels, as they are called, should be constructed so as to turn, in order to prevent their inmates from being exposed to the cutting blasts of winter. Where they have no other refuge, all animals seek I shelter from the weather by turning their backs to the wind ; but. as the dog thus confined cannot do so, his kennel should be capable of turning, or at least should be placed so as not to face the weather more than is necessary. The premises would be in quite as great security, for the dog depends as much upon his ear and sense of smell as upon his eye, and would equally detect a stranger's presence if he were deprived of sight." In the Zoological Gardens, an old blind dog used to be placed at the door of the dissecting- house. Few had any business there, and every one of them he, after a while, used to recognise and welcome full ten yards off, by wagging his 295 tail ; at thejsame distance, he would begin to growl at a stranger unless accompanied by a friend. From the authors long habit of noticing him, he used to recognise liis step before it would seem possible for its sound to be heard. He followed him with his sightless eyes in whatever direction he moved, and was not satisfied until he had patted and fondled him. DOG-PITS. Of the demoniacal use of the dog in the firfht- ing-pits, and the atrocities that wei-e committed there, I will not now speak. These places were frequented by few others than the lowest of the low. Cruelties were there inflicted that seemed to be a libel on human nature ; and such was the baneful influence of the scene, that it appeai-ed to be scarcely possible for any one to enter these pits without experiencing a greater or less degree of moral degradation. The public dog-pits have now been put down ; but the system of dog fighting, with most of its attendant atrocities, still continues. There are many more low public-houses than there used to be pits, that have roomy places behind, and out of sight, where there are regular meetings for this purpose. Tliose among the neighbours who cannot fail of being annoyed and disgusted by the frequent uproar, might give a clue to these dens of infamy ; and the depriving of a few of the landloi'ds of their licence would go a great way towards the efifectual suppression of the practice. Would it be thought possible that certain of our young aristocracy keep fighting-dogs at the repositories of various dealers in the outskirts of the metropolis ; and that these animals remain there, as it were, at livery, the owners coming at their pleasure, and making and devising what matches they think proper ? However disgraceful it may be, it is actually the fact. Here is a field for " the suppression of cruelty ! " DOG-STEALING. The practice of stealing dogs is both directly and indirectly connected mth a great deal of cruelty. There are more than twenty miscreants who are well known to subsist by picking up dogs in the street. There are generally two of them together with aprons rolled round their waists. The dog is caught up at the corner of one the streets, concealed in a moment in the apron, and the thieves are far away before the owner suspects the loss. These dogs, that have been used to every kind of luxuiy, are crowded into dark and filthy cellars, where they become infected by various diseases. The young ones have distemper, and the old ones mange, and all become filled with vermin. There they remain until a sufficient reward is oifered for their recovery, or they are sent far into the country, or shipped for France or some other foreign market. Little or nothing is done by punishing the inferior rogues in this traffic. The blow must be strack at those of a superior class. I will not assert that every dog- dealer is in league with, and profits by, the lower thieves ; but it is true of a great many of them, and it is the principal and most lucrative part of their trade. They are likewise intimately con- nected with the dog-fights, and encourage them, for the sake of their trade as dealers. An attempt should be made to bring the matter home to these scoundrels.* • Mr. Bishop, of Bond Street, has assured the public, that he is able to prove that money has recently been extorted from the owners of dogs, by dohed away. The dog is liable to polypi in the nasal cavity, in the anus, and in the vagina, which it will not be out of place to mention here. The polypi of the nasal and of the anal cavi- ties often show themselves under the form of rounded bodies, projecting from the nose or anus. Their size and consistence are variable — sometimes soft, tearing with the greatest facility, and bleed- ing at the slightest touch ; at other times, solid and covered with pituitary membrane. They are generally the result of ulcerations, wounds, frac- tures, perfoi-ations of the turbinated bones, sinuses, &c. These polypous productions obstract the passage of the air, and more or less impede the breathing. They are best extirpated by means of a ligatui'e, or circular compression, on the pedicle of the polypus, and tightened every second day. We may discover the presence of a tumour of this nature in one of the nasal passages, when, on putting our hand to the orifice of the nostril, there issues little or no air ; or when we sound the nos- tril with the finger or a probe, or examine it on a bright day. The methods of destroying polypi in the nasal cavity vary with the texture, size, form, and posi- tion of these excrescences. Excision with the bistoury, or with scissors, may be tried when the polypus is near the orifice of the nostril, and par- ticularly w^hen it is not large at the base. Excision should be followed by cauterization with the red- hot iron, by which a portion of the base of the tumour is destroyed, and which could not be reached by a sharp instrument. To succeed in these operations, it is frequently necessary to cut through the false nostril. The edges of the wound may afterwards be united by a suture. The ligature, or circular compression, exercised immediately on the pedicle of the polypus, by means of a wire or waxed string, and directed into the rtasal cavity by means of a proper instrument, may be tried when the polypusis deeply situated, and particularly when its base is narrow. But, for this operation, which is difficult to perform, and which may be followed by a new polypous production, when the base is not perfectly destroyed, we may substitute the forcible detachment, especially when we have to act on vascular and soft excrescences. The Italian greyhound is strangely subject to these polypi in the matrix or vagina. The reason it is difficult to explain. A bitch, ten years old, was brought to the author on the 20th December, 1843, with an oval substance, as large as a thrush's egg, occasionally protiiuling from the vagina. I advised that it should be removed by means of a ligature ; but the owner was afraid, and a fortnight was suffered to pass before she was brought again. The tumour had rapidly increased : it was as large as a pigeon's egg, considerably excoriated, and the pedicle being almost as large as the tumour itself. The opera- j tion was now consented to. I passed a ligature as i firmly round the pedicle and as high up as I could. ! The bitch scarcely seemed to suffer any pain. ord Jan. The circulation is evidently cut off, and the tumour is assuming a thoroughly black hue, but it appears to cause no inconvenience to the dog. I tightened the ligature, ith. The tumour is now comjDletely black, considerably proU'uded, and apparently destitute of feeling. I again tightened the ligature. bth. The tumour not appearing disposed to separate, and the uterus seeming to be drawn back by its weight, I cut off the tumour close to the ligature. Not the slightest pain seemed to be given, and the tumour was hard and black. There was, however, a very little oozing of bloody fluid, which continuing to the 8th, I injected a slight injection of alum into the vagina, and three days afterwards the discharge was perfectly stopped. CHAPTER X. AKATOMT OF THE NOSE AKD MOUTH ; AND DISEASES OF THE NOSE AND OTHER PAKT3 OF THE FACE. THE SENSE OF SMELL; THE TONGUE; THE LIPS ; THE TEETH; THE LARYNX; BKONCHOCELE ; PHLEGMONOUS TUMOUR. The Ethmoid Bones. — There is some difficulty in describing the ethmoid bones ; but we shall not, however, deviate far from the truth if we give the following account : — A great number of small hollow pedicles pro- ceed from and form around the cribriform plate ; as they move downwards, tliey project into distinct vesicles or cavities, smaller and more numerous behind, fewer in number and larger in front ; and each of them not a simple cavity, but more or less convoluted, while the long walls of those cells are of gossamer thinness, and as porous as gauze. They even communicate, and are lined, and exter- nally wrapped together, by the same membrane ; the whole assuming a pear-like form, attached by its base or greater extremity, and decreasing in. size as it proceeds downwards ; the cells becoming fewer, and terminating at length in a kind of apex. which passes under the superior turbinated bone, and forms a valve between the nasal cavity and the maxillary sinuses. If to this is added, that the olfactory or first pair of nerves abut on these cri- brifoiTn plates, and pass through their minute openings, and spread themselves over everj' one of these cells, we have a tolerably coi'rect picture of this portion of the ethmoid bones. This nerve has different degrees of development in different ani- mals, in proportion to their acuteuess of smell. There is comparatively but little necessity for acuteness in the horse. The ox has occasion for somewhat more, especially in the early part of the spring, when the plants are young, and have not acquired their peculiar scent. In the sheep it is larger, and fills the superior portion of the nasal cavity ; but in the dog it seems to occupy that cavity almost to the exclusion of the turbinated bones. It is also much more fragile in the dog than in the ox, and the plates have a considerably thinner structure. The ethmoid bone of the horse or the ox may be removed from its situation with little injury ; but that of the dog can scarcely be meddled with without fracture. Below it are the two turbinated bones ; but they are reduced to insignificance by the bulk of the ethmoid bone. The inferior tur- binated bone in the dog is very small, but it is curiously complicated. The meatus contains three distinct channels ; and the air, loitering, as it were, in it, and being longer in contact with the sensitive membrane by which it is lined, contributes to the acuter sense of smell. The larger cavity is along the floor of the nasal duct. It is the proper air-passage ; and because it has this important function to discharge, it is out of the waj^ of violence or injury. The lachrymal duct is the channel through which the superfluous tears are conveyed to the lower parts of the nostril. A long canal here commences, and runs down and along the maxillary bone. It is very small, and terminates in the cuticle, in order that the highly sensitive mem- brane of the nose may not be excoriated by the tears occasionally rendered acrimonious in inflam- mation of the eye. The oval teriuination of this duct is easily brought into view by lifting the nostril. From some occasional acrimony of the teai's, the lining of this duct may be inflamed and thickened, or some foreign body, or some unctuous matter from the ciliary glands, may insinuate itself into the duct, and the fluid accumulates in the sac and distends it, and it bursts ; or the ulcer eats through the integument, and there is a small fistulous opening beneath the inner canthus of the eye, or there is a constant discharge from it. It is this constant discharge that prevents the wound from healing. In some cases the lachrymal bone is involved in the ulcerative process and becomes carious. In the dog, and particularly in the smaller spaniel, the watery eje/jjstida lacrymalis, is of no unusual occurrence. The fistula will be recognised by a constant, although perhaps slight, discharge of pus. The structure and office of the velum palati, or veil of the palate, is in the horse a perfect inter- posed section between the cavity of the mouth and the nose, and cutting off all communication between them. In the dog, who breathes almost entirely through the mouth, the velum palati is smaller ; the tensor muscle, so beautifully described by Mr. Percivall, is weak, but the circumflex one is stronger and more developed. When coryza in the dog nuis on to catarrh, and the membrane of the pharynx partakes of the inflammation, the velum palati becomes inflamed and thickened, but will not act as a perfect communication between the mouth and the nose. When there is a defluxion from the nose, tinged by the colour of the food, and particles of food mingle with it, we have one of the worst symptoms that can present itself, because it proves the extent and violence of the inflammation. In inflammatory affections of the membrane of the nose in the dog, we often observe him snorting in a veiy pecifliar way, with his head protruding, and the inspiration as forcible as tlie expiration. An emetic will usually afford relief, or grain doses of the sulphate of copper. j The Nasal Bones. — The nasal bones of the dog j (see fig. 2, in the head of the dog, page 296) are very small, as they are in all carnivorous animals. j Instead of constituting the roof, and part of the ' outer wall of the cavity, as in other animals, the nasal bones form only a portion, and a small one, of the roof. j The superior ma.rillaries here swell into im- I portance, and constitute the whole of the outer wall, and, sometimes, a part of the roof. The jaws are the weapons of offence and defence ; and as much space as possible is devoted to the insertion of those muscles that will enable the animal to seize and to hold his prey. One of the most powerful of them, the 7nasseter, rises from the superior maxillary bone, and spreads over its whole extent : therefore, that bone is developed, while the nasal bone is compressed into a very small space. The substitiition of a portion of cartilage, instead of bone, at the posterior part of the orbital ring, in order to give more play for the coracoid process of the posterior maxillary, round which the temporal bone is wrapped, is a contrivance of the same nature. The scent of the dog is not sacrificed or im- paired by the apparent diminution of the nasals ; for the cavity enlarges considerably upward, and is occupied chiefly by the ethmoid bone, which, 830 having the greater portion of nervous pulp spread on it, seems to have most to do with the sense of smell. The nasal bones of the dog are essentially different from those of the horse, cattle, and sheep. They commence, indeed, as high up in the face as those of the horse, their superior extremities being opposite to the lachrymal gland ; but that com- mencement is an apex or point varying materially in different breeds. They form, altogether, one sharp jirojection, and are i-eceived within length- ened processes of the frontal bone on either side. In some breeds these processes extend nearly one- third of the length of the nasals. The superior maxillary (3,3) takes the situa- tion of the nasal ('2), pushes the lachrymal bone (4) out of its place, and almost annihilates it, reaches the frontal bone (7) and expands upon it, and forms with it the same denticulated suture which is to be seen in the nasal. The action of the muscle between these bones, and for the de- velopment of which all this sacrifice is made, is exceedingly powerful. The strength of this muscle in a large dog is almost incredible : the sutures between these bones must possess correspond- ing strength ; and so strong is the union be- tween them, that, in many old dogs, the suture between the superior maxillary and frontal bones is nearly obliterated, and that between the nasal and frontal maxillary quite effaced. As the nasal bones proceed downward they become somewhat wider. They unite with a long process of the anterior maxillaiy for the pui-pose of strength, and then terminate in a singular way. They have tlieir apexes or points on the outer edge of the bone ; and these apexes or points are so contrived that, lying upon, and seemingly losing themselves on. the processes of the anterior maxil- lary, they complete, superiorly and posteriorly, that elliptical bony opening into the nose which was commenced by the maxillaiy anteriorly and inferiorly. The nasal cavity of the dog, therefore, and of all carnivorous animals, terminates by a somewhat circular opening, more or less in the form of an ellipse. This bony aperture varies in size in different dogs, and, as we should expect from what we have seen of the adaptation of struc- ture to the situation and wants of the animal, it is largest in those on whom we are most dependent for speed and stoutness. The olfactory, or first pair of nerves, have a double origin — namely, fi'om the corpus striatum and the base of the corpus caUosum. They are prolongations of the medullary substance of the central portion of the brain. They are the largest of the cerebral nerves. Their course is exceed- ingly short ; and they have not a single anasto- mosis, in order that the impression made on them may be conveyed undisturbed and perfect to the brain. The olfactory nerve is a prolongation of the substance of the brain, and it abuts upon the cribiform bone, of which mention has been made. I will not speak of the singular cavities which it contains, nor of their function ; this belongs to the sensorial system : but its pulpy matter has already been traced to the base of the ethmoid bone, and the imder part of the septum, and the superior turbinated bone. Although we soon lose it in the mucous membrane of the nose, there is little doubt that in a more filmy form it is spread over the whole of the cavity, and probably over all the sinuses of the face and head. It is, however, so mingled with the mucous membrane, that no power of the lens has enabled us to follow it so far. It is like the portio nioUis of the seventh pair, eluding the eye, but existing in sufficient substance for the performance of its important functions. We have frequent cases of ozana in old dogs, and sometimes in those that are younger. The discharge from the nostril is abundant and con- stant, and sometimes fetid. The Schneiderian membrane, of more than usual sensibility in this animal, is exposed to many causes' of irritation, and debilitated and worn out before its time. Pugs are particularly subject to ozfena. I scarcely ever knew a very old pug that had it not to a greater or less degree. The peculiar depression between the nasal and frontal bones in this breed of dogs, while it almost totally obliterates the frontal sinuses, may narrow the air-passage at that spot, and cause greater irritation there from the unusual rush of the air, and especially if the mem- brane becomes inflamed or any foreign body in- sinuates itself. Little can be done in these cases, except to encourage cleanliness about the face and nostrils. It is, in the majority of these cases, a disease of old age, and must take its course. A terrier uttered a continual loud stertorous sound in breathing, which could be plainly heard in our parlour when the dog was in the hospital. The animal was evidently much oppressed and in considerable pain. He made continual, and gene- rally ineffectual, efforts to sneeze. When he did succeed, a very small quantity of pus-like fluid was discharged ; the dog was then considerably relieved, but a quarter of au hour afterwards lie was as bad as ever. I ordered a slight emetic every third day. There was some relief for seven or eight hours, and then he was as bad as ever. I could neither feel nor see any cause of obstruc- tion. The owner became tired, and the dog was taken away ; but we could not learn what became of it. Another terrier was occasionally brought for consultation. The dog breathed with consider- able difficulty, and occasionally snorted with the £31 greatest violence, and bloody purulent matter was discharged ; after which he was somewhat relieved ; but, in the course of a few days, the obstruction was as great as ever. I am not aware of a single instance of this affection of the pug being com- pletely removed. The discharge from the nostrils of the bull-dog is often considerable, and, once being thoi'oughly established, is almost as obsti- nate as in the pug. THE SENSE OF SMELL. In the dog we trace the triumph of olfactory poicer. How indistinct must be that scent which is communicated to, and lingers on, the ground by the momentary contact of the foot of the hare, the fox, or the deer ; yet the hound, of various breeds, recognises it for hours, and some sports- men have said for more than a day. He also can not only distinguish the scent of one species of animal from another, but that of different animals of the same species. The fox-hound, well broken in, will rarely challenge at the scent of the hare, nor will he be imposed upon when the crafty animal that he pursues has taken refuge in the earth, and thrusts out a new victim before the pack. The sense of smelling is, to a certain degree, acute in all dogs. It is a provision wisely and kindly made, in oi'der to guide them to their proper food, or to fit them for our service. It may possibly be the medium through which much evil is communicated. Certain panicles of a dele- terious nature may be, and doubtless are, arrested by the mucous membrane of the nose, and there absorbed, and the constitution, to a considerable degree, becomes affected. Hence appears the necessity for attention to ventilation, and especially to prevent the membrane of the nose from being habitually stimulated and debilitated by the effluvia generated in a close and hot kennel. M. Majendie instituted some curious experi- ments on the sense of smelling, and he was led to believe that it depended more on the fifth pair of nerves than on the olfactory nerve. He divided the fifth pair, and from that moment no odour, no puncture, produced the slightest apparent im- pression on the membrane of the nose. In another dog he destroyed the two olfactory nerves, and placed some strong odours beneath the nostrils of the animal. The dog conducted himself as he would have done in his ordinaiy state. Hence he concluded it probable that the olfactory nerve was not that of smelling. The simple fact, however, is, that there are two species of nerves here concerned — those of common and of peculiar sensation. The olfactory nerve is the nerve of smelling, the fiftli pair is that of common sensation. They are to a certain degree necessary to each other. Scent. — This leads us to the consideration of the term " scent." It expresses the odour or effluvium which is constantly issuing from every animal, and especially when that animal is in more than usual exercise. In a state of heat or excite- ment, the pores of the skin appear relaxed, and a fluid or aqueous vapour is secreted, which escapes in small or large quantities, adheres to the persons or substances on which it falls, and is, particularly, received on the olfactory organs. The hound, at almost the earliest period, begins to comprehend the work which he has to perform. The peculiar scent which his nostrils imbibe urges him eagerly to pursue ; but the moment lie ceases to be con- scious of the presence of the effluvium, he is at a perfect loss. Mr. Daniel, in his work on the Chace, very properly observes, that " the scent most favourable to the hound is when the effluvium, constantly perspired from the game as it runs, is kept by the gravity of the air at the height of his breast. It is then neither above his reach, nor does he need to stoop for it. This is what is meant when the scent is said to be breast-high." When the leaves begin to fall, the scent does not lie well in the cover. It frequently alters materially in the same day. This depends princi- pally on the condition of the ground and the temperature of the air, which should be moist but not wet. When the ground is hard and the air diy, there will seldom be much scent. The scent rarely lies with a^ north or east wind. A southerly wind without i-ain is the best. Sudden storms are sure to destroy the scent. A fine sunshiny day is not good ; but a warm day without sun is always a good one. If, as the morning advances, the drops begin to hang on the bushes, the scent will not lie. During a white frost, the scent lies high, and also when the frost is quite gone ; but at the time of its going off the scent never lies. In a hard rain, if the air is mild, the scent will sometimes be very good. A wet night often pro- duces the best chaces. In heathy countries, where the game brushes the grass or the boughs as it goes along, the scent seldom fails. It lies best on the richest soils ; but the countries that are favour- able to horses are not always so to hounds. The morning usually affords the best scent, and the game is then least able to escape. The want of rest, added perhaps to a full belly, gives the hounds a decided superiority over an early-found fox ; and the condition of the ground and the temper- ature of the air are circumstances of much importance. Such are the results of the best observations on scent; but, after all, we have much to learn concerning it. Many a day that predicated to be a good one for scent has turned out a very bad one, and vice versa. An old or e.xperienced sportsman, 332 knowing tliis, will never presume to make sure of his scent. We shall be forgiven if we pursue this subject a little at length. There is not only a constant appropriation of new matter to repair the losses that animals are continually sustaining, but there is a constant ela- boration of gaseous or fluid matter maintaining the balance of the different systems, and essential to the continuance of life. This effluvium, as the animal moves from place to place, is attracted and detained for a while by the substances with which it comes into contact, or it remains floating in the atmosphere. There is a peculiar smell or scent belonging to each individual, either generally or under peculiar circumstances. The sportsman takes advantage of this ; and, as most sjjecies of dogs possess great acuteness of olfactory power, they can distinguish, or are readily taught to distinguish, not only the scent of the hare from that of the fox, but that of the hare or fox which they are pursuing from that of half a dozen others that may be started during the chace. The dogs that are selected for this purpose are those the conformation of whose face and head gives ample room for the development of the olfac- tory apparatus, and these are the different species of hounds ; but a systematic education, and too often a great deal of unnecessary cruelty, is resoi'ted to, in order to make them perfect in their work. The distinction between the scent of the fox and that of the hare is soon learned by the respective packs ; and, when it is considered that the hunted hare is perspiring at every pore, and her strength being almost exhausted, she is sti'aining every limb to escape from her pursuers, the increasing quantity of vapour which exudes from her will prevent every other newly-started animal from being mistaken for her. It has been well observed that when the atmo- sphere is loaded with moisture, and rain is at hand, the gas is speedily dissolved, and mingles with the surrounding air. A storm dissipates it at once, while the cessation of the rain is preceded by the return and increased power of scent. A cold, dry, easterly wind condenses and absorbs it, and this is even more speedily and irretrievably done by superabundant moisture. On fallows and beaten roads the scent rarely lies well, for there is nothing to detain it, and it is swept away in a moment ; while over a luxuriant pasture, or by the hedge-row, or on the coppice, it lingers, clinging to the grass or the bushes. In a sunshiny day the scent is seldom strong ; for too much of it is eva- porated by the heat. The most favourable period is a soft southerly wind without rain, the scent being of the same temperature and gravity with the atmosphere. Although it spreads over the level, it rises not far above the ground, and, being - breast Iwjli, enables the hound, keeping his muzzle in the midst of it, to run at his greatest speed. The different manners or attitudes in which the dog runs afford pleasing and satisfactory illustra- tions of the nature of the scent. Sometimes they will be seen galloping with their noses in the air, as if their game had flown away, and an hour or two afterwards every one of them will have his muzzle on the ground. The specific gravity of the atmosphere has changed, and the scent has risen or fallen in proportion. A westerly wind stands next to a southerly one, for a hunting morning. This is all simple enough, and needs not the mystification with which it has been surrounded. A valuable account of this may be found in Johnson's Shooting Com- panion, a work that is justly and highly approved. Mr. Delme Radcliffe has also, in his splendid work on " the noble science," some interesting remarks on the scent of hounds. He says that there is an idiosyncracy, a peculiarity, in their several dispositions. Some young hounds seem to enter on their work instinctively. From their first to their last appearance in the field they do no wrong. Others, equally good, will take no notice of anything; they will not stoop to any scent during the first season, and are still slack at entering even at the second ; but are ultimately distinguished at the head of the pack ; and such usually last some seasons longer than the more precocious of the same litter. THE TONGUE. The manner of drinking is different in the different animals. The horse, the ox, and the sheep, do not plunge their muzzles into the water, but bring their lips into contact with it and sip it gradually. The dog, whose tongue is longer, plunges it a little way into the fluid, and, curving its tip and its edges, laps, in the language of Johnson, with a "quick reciprocation of the- tongue." The horse sucks the water that is placed before him, the dog laps it; and both of them are subject to inflammation of the tongue, to enlarge- ment of that organ, and to a considerable or con- stant flow of saliva over it. Extending from the base to the tip of the tongue there is on either side a succession of ten- dons, which help to retain the tongue in the mouth, and to curve the edge of it, so as to convey the food or the water to the posterior part of the mouth. These all spring from one central cord, and ramify over the membrane of the tongue. On opening the mouth, and keeping it open by means of two pieces of tiipe, one behind the upper canine teeth, and the other behind the lower ones, and drawing the tongue from the mouth and exposing its under surface, a cuticular fold or ridge will. 335 present itself, occupying a middle line from the base of the tongue to its very point. If this is opened with the lancet, a minute fibrous cord will be exposed through its whole extent. It is the cord which governs the motion of the tongue. This cord is, sometimes, foolishly and uselessly detached from its adhesions, so far as we can effect it, and drawn forward with a tenaculum and divided. There is one abominable course pursued in effecting this. The violence used in stripping down the tendon is so great, and the lacerated fibrous substance is put so much on the stress, and its natural elasticity is so considerable, that it re- coils and assumes the appearance of a dying worm, and the dog is said to have been wormed. For the sake of humanity, as well as to avoid the charge of ignorance, it is to be hoped that this practice will speedily cease. The Blain. — The blain is a vesicular enlarge- ment on the latei'al and under part of the tongue in horses, oxen, and dogs, which, although not of unfrequent occurrence, or peculiarly fatal result, has not been sufficiently noticed by veterinary authors. In the horse and the dog it is often un- accompanied by any previous indisposition, or by other disease ; but suddenly there is a copious dis- charge of saliva, at first limpid and without smell, but soon becoming purulent, bloody, and exceed- ingly foetid. On examination, the tongue is found apparently enlarged. It is elevated from its base between the maxillary bones, and on the side and towards the base of it are seen large vesicles, pellucid, red, livid, or purple ; and, if the discharge is foetid, having near their bases ulcers, irregular, unhealthy, and gangrenous. in the horse and the dog the progress of the disease is slow, and seldom extends beyond the sides of the tongue. The vesicles are not of such magnitude as to interfere with respiration, and the ulcers are neither many nor foul. In cattle it is sadly different. The vesicles attain an enormous size. They quickly break and form deep ulcerations, which are immediately suc- ceeded by other vesicles still larger. The whole membrane of the mouth becomes affected; the inflammation and swelling extend to the cellular substance of the neighbouring parts, and the head and neck are considerably, and sometimes enor- mously enlarged; the respiratory passages are obstructed ; the animal breathes with the greatest difficulty, and is, iii some cases, literally suffo- cated. The primaiT seat of blain is the cellular sub- stance beneath the integument of the part. As the sublingual glands sti-etch along the under part of the tongue, and their ducts open on the side of the frfEuum, it is possible that this disease may [ proceed from, or be connected with, obstruction or inflammation of these ducts. Dissection, however, has not proved this ; and the seat of the disease, when the swellings are first discovered, is chiefly the cellular tissue between the integument and the lateral parts of the tongue, and also that between the membrane of the mouth and the sublingual glands. Post-mortem examination shows intense dis- ease : the small intestines are highly inflamed with red and black patches, which are also found in the coscum, colon, and rectum. The blain is more frequent in spring and summer than at other seasons of the year. These are the times when the animal is debilitated by the process of moulting, and is then more than usually disposed to inflammatory complaints. It is usually an epidemic disease. Many cases of it occur about the same time in certain districts, and over a great tictent of country. When it appears in towns, the country is rarely exempt from it. I am not prepared to say that it is con- tagious either in the horse or the dog. I have not seen any instance of it. At all events, it is not so virulent in these animals as it is in cattle. The vesicles should be freely lanced from end to end. There will not, perhaps, be much imme- diate discharge ; for the vesicle will be distended by a substance imperfectly organized, or of such a glassy or inspissated nature as not readily to escape. It will, however, soon disappear ; and in four-and-twenty hours, in the majority of cases, the only vestige of the disease will be an incision, not, perhaps, looking very healthy, but that will soon become so and heal. If there have been any previous ulcerations, or the slightest fetor, the mouth should be frequently washed with a diluted solution of the chloride of lime ; one part of the saturated solution, and eleven of water. This will act as a powerful and useful stimulus to the foul and indolent ulcer. When all unpleasant smell is removed, the mouth should be bathed with a lotion composed of equal parts of tincture of myrrh and water, or half an ounce of alum dissolved in a quart of water, and two ounces of the tincture of catechu added to the solution. I do not recollect a case in the horse or dog, in which these medi- cines were not employed with advantage. In cattle, before there has been fetor attending the discharge, or the constitution has been materi- ally affected, these simple means will perfectly succeed. If the practitioner is consulted somewhat too late, when the constitution has become affected, and typhoid fever has ensued, he should still lance the tumours, and apply the chloride of lime and tlie tincture of myrrh, and give a gentle aperient. He should endeavour to rouse and support the :334 THE system by tonic medicines, as gentian and calumba with ginger, adding to two draclims of the first two and one drachm of the last, half an ounce of nitre ; but he should place most dependence on nourishing food. Until the mouth is tolerably sound, it is probable [that the animal will not be induced to eat; but "it will occasionally sip a little fluid, and therefore gruel should be always within its reach. More should occasionally be given, as thick as it will flow, with a spoon or small horn. of the dog discharge, with somewhat less efficiency, the same office as in the horse, cattle, and sheep ; and are usefully employed in gathering together the food, and conveying it to the mouth. The lips also secrete the saliva, a fluid that is indis- pensably necessary for the proper comminution of the food. Swellings on the inside of the cheek or upper lip, and extending nearly to the angle of the lip, are of frequent occurrence. A superficial sore spreads over it, slightly covered by a yellowish mattery pellicle ; and on the teeth, and extending down the gums, there is a deposition of hardened tartarous matter, which is scaled off with a greater or less degree of difficulty. It must be removed, or the sore will rapidly spread over the cheek. A lotion of equal parts of tincture of myrrh and water, with a few drops of the tincture of cantha- i-ides, will be usually sufficient to cause the swelling to subside, and the pellicle to be detached. The lip, however, will generally remain slightly thick- ened. A little soreness will sometimes return, but be easily reduced. THE TEETH next claim attention. According to the dentition of the dog by M. Girard and Linnaeus, the following is the acknow- formula : — Incisors -, canines ~^^, molars - I— 1 =42. The following cuts exhibit the front teeth of the dog in various stages of growth and decay : Fig. 1. Fig. 3. Fig. 4. 333 The full-grown dog Las usually 20 teeth in the upper, and 22 in the lower jaw, with two small supernumerary molars. All of them, with the exception of the tushes, ai-e provided with a bony neck, covered by the gums, and separating the body of the tooth from the root. The projecting portion of the teeth is moi'e or less pointed, and disposed so as to tear and crush the food on which the dog lives. They are of a moderate size when compared with those of other animals, and are subject to little loss of substance compared with the teeth of the horse. In most of them, however, there is some alteration of form and substance, both in the incisors and the tushes ; but this depends so much on the kind of food on which the animal lives, and the consequent use of the teeth, that the indication of the age, by the altered appearance of the mouth, is not to be depended upon after the animal is four or five years old. The incisor teeth are sis in number in each jaw, and are placed opposite to each other. In the lower jaw, the pincers, or central teeth, are the largest and the strongest ; the middle teeth are somewhat less ; and the corner teeth the smallest and the weakest. In the upper jaw, however, the corner teeth are much larger than the middle ones ; they are farther apart from their neighbours, and they terminate in a conical point curved somewhat inwards and backwards. As long as the teeth of the full-grown dog are whole, and not injured by use, they have a healthy appearance, and their colour is beautifully white. The surface of the incisors presents, as in the ruminants, an interior and cutting edge, and a hollow or depression within. This edge or border is divided into three lobes, the largest and most projecting forming the summit or point of the tooth. The two lateral lobes have the appearance of notches cut on either side of the principal lobe ; and the union of the three resembles the fleur de lis, which, however, is in the process of time effaced by the wearing out of the teeth, (figs. 3- & 4.) While the incisor teeth are young, they are flattened on their sides, and bent somewhat back- wards, and there is a decided cavity in which a pulpy substance is enclosed. This, however, is gradually contracted as the age of the dog increases. M. F. Cuvier speaks of certain supernumerary teeth occasionally developed in each of the jaws. There is much irregularity accompanying them ; and they have even been supposed to have extended to seven or eight in number. The Indications of Age. — The dog displays natural indications of age. The hair turns gi-ay to a certain extent as in the human being. This commences about the eyes, and extends over the face, and weakens the sight ; and, at ten years old, or earlier, in the majority of dogs, this can scarcely be mistaken. At fifteen or sixteen years the animal is becoming a nuisance, yet he has been known to linger on until he has reached his two- and-twentieth year. Among the diseases from which the dog suffers, there are few of more frequent occurrence than decayed teeth, especially in towns, or in the habitations of the higher classes of society : the carious teeth, in almost every case, becoming insufferably fetid, or so loose as to prevent masti- cation ; or an immense accumulation of tartar growing round them. The course which the veterinary surgeon pur- sues is an exceedingly simple one. If any of the teeth are considerably loose, they must be removed. If there is any deposit of tartaric acid, it must be got rid of by means of the proper instraments, not veiy different from those which the human surgeon employs. The teeth must be perfectly cleaned, and eveiy loose one taken away. With- out this the dog will be an almost insufferable nuisance. The decayed and loose teeth being removed, chlorinated lime, diluted with 15 or 20 times its bulk of water, should be applied to the gums. By the use of this the ulcers will quickly heal ; the fetor will be removed, and the deposition of the tartar prevented. Mr. Blaine first introduced the chlorinated lime for the accomplishment of these purposes. Two little histories out of a great number will sufficiently illustrate these cases. A terrier had scarcely eaten during more than a week. He dropped his meat after attempting to chew it, and the breath was very offensive. Several of the teeth were loose, and the rest were thickly en- crusted with tartar. The gums had receded from the teeth, and were red, sore, and ulcerated. I removed all the loose teeth ; for experience had taught me that tliey rarely or never became again fixed. I next, with the forceps and knife, cleaned the others, and ordered the diluted V 3 836 chlorinated lime to be alternated with tincture of myrrh and water. The extraction of the loose teeth, and the removal of the tartar from those that were sound, occupied a full hour ; for the dog- resisted with all his might. He, however, soon began to eat ; the lotions were continued ; and five months afterwards, the mouth of the dog was not in the slightest degree offensive. An old dog should not be quite abandoned. A pug had only four teeth remaining beside the canines. They were all thickly covered with tartar, and two of them were very loose. The gums and lips were in a dreadfully cankerous state, and the dog was unable to eat. All that he could do was to lap a little milk or broth. I extracted the two loose teeth, cleaned the others, and ordered a lotion of equal parts of tincture of myrrh and water to be applied. 13th August, I84'2. — A very considerable dis- charge of pus was observed, with blood from the mouth, apparently proceeding from the cavity whence one of the teeth had been extracted. The dog is exceedingly thirsty, and walks round and round the water-dish but is afraid to lap. He has not eaten for two days. Use the lotion as before, and force him with strong soup. 15f/i. The dog has not voluntarily eaten, but is still forced with soup. He is very costive. Give two grains of calomel and an equal quantity of antimonial powder. 18f/i. He has eaten a very little, but gets thin- ner and weaker. Continue the lotion. •27f/t. The ulcers are nearly healed, and the discharge of pus has ceased. 31sf. The mouth is clean, the gums are healed, and there is no longer anything offensive about the dog. THE LARYNX is placed at the top of the windpipe, the exit from the lungs, and is also connected with the Schnei- derian membrane. At its upper part is the epi- glottis, the main guard against the passage of the food into the respiratory tubes, and, at the same time, of tlie instrument of the voice. It consists of five cartilages united together by a ligamentous substance, and, by distinct and perfect articulations, adapting itself to every change of the respiratory process and the production of the voice. At the base is the cricoid cartilage, the support and bond of union of the rest. Above are the arytenoid cartilages, resting on the cordm vocales and influencing their action. The epiglottis is placed at the extremity of the opening "into the windpipe, with its back opposed to the pharynx, so that when a pellet of food passes from the pharynx in its way to the oesophagus, the epiglottis is applied over the glottis, and by this means closes the aperture of the larynx, and prevents any portion of the food from passing into it. The food having passed over the epiglottis, that cartilage, from its elastic power, again.rises and resumes its former situation. The thyroid cartilage envelopes and protects all the rest, and particularly the lining membrane of the larynx, which vibrates from the impulse of the air that passes. The vibrations spread in every direction until they reach the delicate mem- brane of the tympanum of the ear. That membrane responds to the motion without, and the vibration is carried on to the pulp of the auditory nerve, deep in the recesses of the ear. The loudness of the tone — its acuteness or graveness — 'depends on the force of the expired air and the shortening or lengthening of the chord. Hence it is, that the tone of the bark of the dog, or the neighing of the horse, depends so much on the age or size of the animal. Thus we compare the shrill bark of the puppy with the hoarse one of the adult dog ; the high-toned but sweet music of the beagle with the fuller and lower cry of the fox- hound, and the deep but melodious baying of the mastiff. I may, perhaps, be permitted to add to these, the whin- nying of the colt and the neighing of the horse. Each animal has his peculiar and intelligible language. He who has long lived among them will recognise tlie tone of delight at meeting, rising into and terminating in a sharper sound; the strong and elevated tone when they are calling to or challenging each other at a distance ; the short expression of anger — the longer, deeper, hoarser tone of fear ; the murmur almost as deep, but softer, of habitual attachment, and the elevated yet melodious token of sudden recognition. I could carry on a conversation with a dog that I once possessed for several minutes, and one per- fectly intelligible to both. Inflammation of the laiynx is a frequent and dangerous comjDlaint. It usually commences with, a7Kl can scarcely be distinguished from, catarrh, except that it is attended by cough more violent and painful, and the dog expectorates considerably. Acute laryngitis is not so frequent an occuiTence ; but there is much danger attending it. Blood must be abstracted to as great an extent as the pulse will bear, or until it becomes evidently affected. To this must follow digitalis, nitre, tartar emetic, and aloes, and to these must be added a powerful blister. A considerable quantity is effused and organized, the membrane is thick- ened, perhaps permanently so, and the whole of the submucous cellular tissue becomes oedematous. The dog is subject to sudden attacks o{ angina. It has been imagined, from the appearances that are manifested, that some strange body is arrested in the windpipe or the throat. There is no dread of water or of the usual fluids ; the dog will lap once or twice from that fluid which is placed before 33r him, and turns slowly away from it ; and this circumstance gives rise to what is called dumb madness. The dog harks in a particular manner, or rather howls like a rabid dog: he is out of spirits, has a strange, anxious, altered countenance, and is alternately cold and hot. Frequently added to this is redness of the buccal and nasal mem- branes. He refuses all solid food, and either will not drink or tiuds it difficult to swallow anything. His mouth is generally open, and contains a spumy matter exhaling an offensive smell. His tongue, charged with a great quantity of saliva, protrades from his mouth, and the submaxillary glands are enlarged. To these appearances are added a yellow tint of the eyes, constipation, and a small quantity of urine, surcharged with a deep yellow colour. At this period the disease has generally reached a considerable degree of virulence. Often the in- flammation extends to the back part of the mouth and larynx ; and in this last case the respiration is attended by a hoarse, hissing kind of sound. The progress of the disease is rapid, and in a few days it reaches its highest degree of intensity. It is [always fatal when it is intense ; and, when its influence is widely spread, it is a very dangerous complaint. Somewhat rarely the subjects of it recover. After death we find great redness and injection in all the affected nervous surfaces, and indications of abscesses in which suppuration was not fully established. BKONCHOCELE OR GOITRE in the dog is almost daily forced upon our notice. If a spaniel or pug-puppy is mangy, pot-bellied, licketty, or deformed, he seldom fails to have some enlargement of the thyroid gland. The spaniel and the pug are most subject to this disease. The jugular vein passes over the thyroid gland ; and, as that substance increases, the vein is sometimes brought into sight, and appears between the gland and the integument, fearfully enlarged, varicose, and almost appearing as if it were bursting. The trachea is pressed upon on either side, and the cesophagus by the left gland, and there is difficulty of swallowing. The poor animal pants distressingly after the least exertion, and I have known absolute suffocation ensue. In a few cases ulceration has followed, and the sloughing has been dreadful, yet the gland has still preserved its characteristic structure. Although numerous abscesses have been formed in the lower part of it, and there has been considerable discharge, viscid or purulent, the upper part has remained as hard and almost as scirrhous as before. Cause of Goitre. — In many cases this enlarge- ment of the thyroid glands is plainly connected with a debilitated state of the constitution gene- rally, and more particularly with a disposition lo rickets. I have rarely seen a puppy that has had mange badly, and especially if mange was closely followed by distemper, that did not soon exhibit goitre. Puppies half-starved, and especially if dirtily kept, are thus affected ; and it is generally found connected with a loose skin, flabby muscles, enlarged belly, and great stupidity. On the other hand, I have seen hundreds of dogs, to all appear- ance otherwise healthy, in whom the glands of the neck have suddenly and frightfully enlarged. I have never been able to trace this disease to any particular food, whether solid or liquid ; although it is certainly the frequent result of want of nutriment. Some friends, of whom I particularly inquired, assured me, that it is not to any great extent pre- valent in those parts of Derbyshire where goitre is oftenest seen in the human being. It is periodical in the dog. I have seen it under medical treatment, and without medical treatment, perfectly disappear for a while, and soon afterwards, without any assiguable cause, return. There is a breed of the Blenheim spaniel, in which this periodical goitre is very remarkable ; the slightest cold is accompanied by enlargement of the thyroid gland, but the swelling altogether dis- appears in the course of a fortnight. I am quite assured that it is hereditary ; no one that is accustomed to dogs can doubt this for a moment. Treatment. — 1 am almost ashamed to confess how many inefficient and cruel methods of treat' ment I many years ago adopted. I used mercurial fi-iction, external stimulants, and blisters ; I have been absurd enough to pass setons through the tumours, and even to extii-pate them with the knife. The mercury salivated without any advan- tage, the stimulants and the blisters aggravated the e^'il ; the setons did so in a tenfold degree, so that many dogs were lost in the irritative fever that was produced ; and, although the gland, when dissected out, could not be reproduced, yet I have been puzzled with the complication of vessels' around it, and in one case lost my patient by hemorrhage which I could not arrest. When the power of iodine in the dispersion of glandular tumours was first spoken of, I eagerly tried it for this disease, and was soon satisfied that it w^as almost a specific. I scarcely recollect a case in which the glands have not very materially dimi- nished ; and, in the decided majority of cases, they have been gradually reduced to their natural size. I first tried an ointment composed of the iodide of potassium and lard, with some, but not a satisfactory result. Next I used the tincture of iodine, in doses of from five to ten drops, and with or without any external local application ; but I found, at length, that the simple iodine, made into pills with powdered gum and syrup, effected almost all that I could wish. It is best to com- 338 mence -with the eighth of a grain for a small dog, and rapidly increase it to half a grain morning and night. A larger dog may take from a quarter of a grain to a grain. In a few instances, loss of appe- tite and slight emaciation have been produced ; hut then, the medicine being suspended for a few days, no permanent ill effect has ever followed the exhibition of iodine. PHLEGMOKOUS TUMOUR. A phlegmonous tumour under the throat, and accompanied by constitutional disturbance, with the exception of there being little or no cough, often appears in the dog. Comparing the size of the animals, these tumours are much larger than in either the horse or ox ; but they ai-e situated higher up the face, and do not press so much upon the windpipe, nor is there any apparent danger of suffocation from them. The whole head, however, is sometimes enlarged to a frightful degree, and the eyes are completely closed. More than a pint of fluid has sometimes escaped from a middle-sized dog at the first puncture of the tumour. The mode of tj-eatment is, to stimulate the part, in order to expedite the suppuration of the tumour, and to lance it freely and deeply, as soon as matter is evidently formed. The wound should be dressed with tincture of aloes, and a thick bandage placed round the neck, to prevent the dog from scratching the part, which often causes dreadful laceration. These tumours in the throat of the dog are not always of a phlegmonous character. They are cysts, sometimes rapidly formed, and of con- siderable size, and filled with a serous or gelatinous fluid. CHAPTER XL anatomy and diseases of the chest : the diaphragm ; the pericardium ; the heart ; pleurisy; pneumonia; spasmodic cough. The chest is the superior, or in quadrupeds the anterior, cavity of the trunk of the body : it is divided into two cavities by a membranous parti- tion, termed mediastinum ; and separated fi'om the abdomen, or cavity which contains the liver, spleen, pancreas, and other abdominal viscera, by the diaphragm, which is of a musculo-membranous nature. This membrane may be described, as it is divided, into the main circular muscle, with its central tendinous expansion forming the lower part, and two appendices, or crura, as they are termed from their peculiar shape, constituting its superior portion. We trace the fleshy origin of the grand muscle, laterally and inferiorly, com- mencing from the cartilage of the eighth rib anteriorly, and following somewhat closely, as we proceed backward, the union of the posterior ribs with their cartilages, excepting, however, the two last. The attachment is peculiarly strong. It is denticulated : it encloses the whole of the latter and inferior part of the chest as far as the sternum, where it is connected with the ensiform cartilage. The diaphragm is the main agent, both in ordinary and extraordinary respiration. In its quiescent state it presents its convex surface towards the thorax, and its concave one towards the abdo- men. The anterior convexity abuts upon the lungs ; the posterior concavity is occupied by some of the abdominal viscera. Thus far we have described the diaphragm as found in the horse, ox, and sheep. There is some difference with regard to the dog. The muscular part of the diaphragm is tliick and strong in every species of dog, while the aponeurotic expansion is comparatively smaller. From the smaller expanse of the thorax of the dog, and the consequent little expansion of the diaphragm, the action, although occasionally rapid and violent — for he is an animal of speed — is not so extensive, and more muscle and less tendon may be given to him, not only without detriment, but with evident advantage. Therefore although we have occasional rupture of the heart of the dog, oftener perhaps than in the horse, there is no case of rupture of the diaphragm on record. The cavity of the thorax is lined by a mem- brane, termed pleura, which covers the surface of the lungs. The lungs on either side are enclosed in a separate and perfect bag, and each lung has a dis- tinct pleura. The heart lies under the left lung ; and, more perfectly to cut off all injurious con- nexion or communication of disease between the lungs and the heart, the heart is enclosed in a distinct pleura or bag, termed the pericardium. This membrane closely invests the heart, supports it in its situation, prevents too great dilatation when it is goi'ged with blood, and too violent action when it is sometimes unduly stimulated. Not- withstanding the confinement of the pericardium, the heart, when under circumstances of unusual excitation, beats violently against the ribs, and, were it not thus tied dowi, would often braise and injure itself, and cause inflammation in the neigh- bouring parts. The heart is composed of four cavities ; two above, called auricles from their shape, and two below, termed ventricles, occup^-ing the bulk of the heart. In point of fact, there are two hearts — the one on the left side propelling the blood through the frame, and the other on the right side conveying it through the pulmonary system ; but, united in the manner in which they are, their junction contributes to their mutual strength, and both circulations are carried on at the same tiuie. The beating of the heart in the dog is best examined behind the elbow on the left side. The hand, applied flat against the ribs, will give the number and character of the pulsations. The pericardium or outer investing membrane of the heart, is frequently liable to inflammation, indi- cated by a quickened and irregular respiration, and an action of the heart, bounding at an early period of the disease, but becoming scarcely recognisable as the fluid increases. The patient is then begin- ning gradually to sink. A thickening of the substance of the heart is occasionally suspected, and, on the other hand, an increased capacity of the cavities of the heart ; the parietes being considerably thinner, and the frame of the animal emaciated. The pulse of the greater part of our domestic animals has been calculated by Mr. Vatel, in his excellent work on Veterinary Pathology, to be nearly as follows: — ox or cow, 35 „ 42 ass, , 48 „ 54 sheep, , 70 „ 79 goat, 72 „ 76 dog. 90 „ 100 no „ 120 rabbit, 120 guinea-pig, 140 136 duck! 136 hen. 140 heron, 200 The piflse of the dog may be easily ascertained by feeling at the heart or the iuside of the knee, and it varies materially, according to the breed, as well as the size of the animal. This is very strikingly the case with some of the sporting dogs, with whom the force as well as the rapidity of the pulse vary materially according to the character and breed of the dog. There is, occasionally, in the dog as in the human being, an alteration of the quantity as well as of the quality, of the blood. Anasmia is the term used to designate a deiiciency in quantity ; plethora the opposite state of it. M. D'Arbor relates a very curious account of the former : — Two dogs were sent into the hospital of the veterinary school at Lyons. They did not appear to suff"er any considerable pain. Their skin and mucous membranes that were visible had a peculiar appearance. They had also comparatively little power over their limbs ; so little, indeed, that they rested continually on one side, without the ability to shift their posture. When they were placed on their feet, their limbs gave way, and they fell the moment they were quitted. In despite of the care that was taken of them, they died on the second day. Incisions were made through the skin, but in opening them no blood flowed. The venoe cavse themselves did not contain any — there were only two clots of blood in the cavities of their hearts. One of them, of the size of a small nutmeg, occu- pied tiie left ventricle ; the other, which was still smaller, was found at the base of the right ven- tricle. The chest of one of them enclosed a small quantity of serosity ; a similar fluid was between the dura mater and the arachnoid membrane, and the same was the case in the larger ventricles of the encephalon. The other viscei'a did not ofter anything remarkable, except the paleness and llaccidity of their tissue. The great fatigues of the chace, and the immersion of these animals in water at the time that they were very much heated, ap- peared to have been the causes of this singular disease. In the Report of the labours of the School of Alfort, in the year 1825, the same anaemia was remarked in two dogs that died there ; one of them had lately undergone a considerable hemorrhage, and in the other anaemia had developed itself spontaneously. It is in fact among dogs that this extreme anaemia has been principally observed, and is ordi- narily fatal. It has been remarked by M. Crusal in a bullock attacked with gastro-enteritis. This disease, according to M. Vatel, is gene- rally the symptom of a chronic malady, or the instantaneous effect of an excessive hemorrhage. It is rarely primary. The extreme discoloration of the tissues, and of the mucous membrane more particularly ; the disappearance of the subcuta- neous blood-vessels ; and the extreme feebleness of the animal, are the principal symptoms. There also often exists considerable swelling of the limbs. The following singular case of a wound pene- trating into the chest and pericardium of a dog is recorded by Professor Delafond : — A mastiff dog, fighting with another, was stabbed in the chest by the master of his antago- nist. Five hours after the accident the Professor was sent for. On the exterior of the sternum was a laceration an inch and a half in length, covered by a spumy fluid, from the centre of which was heard a gurgling noise, showing that a wound had penetrated into the sac of the pleura. The respiration was quick, and evidently painful ; the beating of the heart was also strong and precipi- 840 tate. The finger being introclucecl into the ■wound, penetrated bet^yeen the fourth and fifth rib on the left side. " Having arrived at the pleuritic sac," says the Professor, " I gently tapped the surface of the lung, in order to assure myself that it -was not injured ; my finger penetrated into the peri- cardium, and the point of the heart beat against it." He bathed the wound with a little diluted ■wine, and brought the edges of it as near together as he could, and confined them with a suture, administering a mild aperient. On the following day, the animal walked slowly about, seeking for something to eat ; he gave him some milk. On changing the dressing he tried whether he could again introduce any sound into the wound ; but it would only penetrate a veiy little way; indeed reunion by adhesion had already taken place. On the fifth day the animal was in good spirits ; the wound had a healthy red appearance, and all tended to a speedy cure. On the eighth day he was sent home to his master, a distance of two leagues from his house. He saw the dog eighteen months afterwards, and he was as eager as ever after his game. The following is a case of rupture of the heart: — A black pointer, of the Scotch breed, had every appearance of good health, except that she frequently fell into a fit after ha-s-ing run a little way, and sometimes even after playing in the yard. She was several times bled during and after these fits. When I examined her, I could plainly perceive considerable and violent spasmodic motion of the heart, and the sounds of the beating of the heart were irregular and convulsive. She was sent to the infinnaiy, in order to be cured of an attack of mange ; but during her stay in the hos- pital she had these fits several times : the attack almost always followed after she had been playing with other dogs. She appeared as if struck by lightning, and remained motionless for several minutes, her gums losing their natural appearance and assuming a bluish hue. After the lapse of a few minutes slie again arose as if nothing had been the matter. She was bled twice in eight days, and several doses of foxglove were administered to her. The fits appeared to become less frequent : but, playing one day with another dog, she fell and expired immediately. The post-mortem examination was made two hours after death. The cavity of the pericardium contained a red clot of blood, which enveloped the whole of the heart ; it was thicker in the parts that corresponded with the valve of the lieart ; and on the left ventricle, and near the base of the left valve of the heart, and on the external part of that ■viscus, was an irregvilar rent two inches long. It crossed the wall of the valve of the heart, which was veiy thin in this place. The size of the heart was vei7 small considering the height and bulk of the dog. The walls of the ventricles, and particu- lariy of the left ventricle, were verj- thick. The cavity of the left ventricle was veiy small ; there was evidently a concentric hyperti'ophy of these ventri- cles ; the left valve of the heart was of great size. The immediate cause of the rupture of the valve of the heart had evidently been an increase of circulation, brought on by an increase of exer- cise ; but the remote cause consisted in the remark- able thinness of the walls of the valve of the heart. This case is remarkable in more than one respect ; first, because examples of nipture of the valve of the heart are very rare; and, secondly, because this rupture had its seat in the left valve of the heart, while, usually, in both the human being and the quadniped, it takes place in the right, and this, without doubt, because the walls and the valves of the right side are thinner. Diseases of the investing membrane of the lungs, and the pleui'a of the thoracic cavity, and of the substance of the lungs, are more frequent than those of the heart. PLEURISY, or inflammation of the membrane of the chest and the lungs of the dog, is not unfrequent. There are few instances of inflammation of the lungs, or pneumonia, that do not ultimately become con- nected with or terminate in pleurisy. The ten- derness of the sides, the curious twitching that is obsen-ed, the obstinate sitting up, and the presence of a short, suppressed, painful cough, which the dog bears with strange impatience, are the symp- toms that principally distinguish it from pneu- monia. The exploration of the chest by auscul- tation gives a true picture of it in pleurisy ; and, by placing the dog alternately on his chest, his back, or his side, we can readily ascertain the ex- tent to which effusion exists in the thoracic cavity ; and, if we think proper, we can get rid of the fluid. It is not a dangerous thing to attempt, although it is very problematical whether much advantage would accrue from the operation. With a favourite dog it may, however, be tried ; and, to prevent all accidents, a veterinary surgeon should be intrusted with the case. PNErMONIA, or inflammation of the substance of the lungs, is a complaint of frequent occurrence in the dog, and is singularly marked. The extended head, the protruded tongue, the anxious, bloodshot eye, the painful heaving of the hot breath, the obstinacy with which the animal sits up hour after hour until his feet slip from under him, and the eye closes, and the head droops, through extreme fatigue, yet in a moment being roused again by the feeling of 341^ instant suffocation, are symptoms tliat cannot be mistaken. Here, from the comparative tliinness of the integument and tlie parietes, ^ye have the progress of the disease brought completely under our view. The exploration of the chest of the dog by auscul- tation is a beautiful as well as wonderful thing. It at least exhibits to us the actual state of the lungs, if it does not always enable us to ai-rest the impending evil. Mr. Blaine and myself used cordially to agree ■with regard to the treatment of pneumonia, mate- rially different from the opinions of the majority of sportsmen. Epidemic pneumonia was generally fatal, if it was not speedily arrested in its course. The cure was commenced by bleeding, and that to a considerable extent, when not more than four- and-twenty or six-and-thirty hours had passed ; for, after that, the progress of the disease could seldom be arrested. Blistering the chest was sometimes resorted to with advantage ; and the cantharides ointment and the oil of tuii^entine fonued one of the most convenient as well as one of the most efficacious blisters. A purgative was administered, composed of mutton broth with Epsom salts or castor oil ; to which followed the administration of the best sedatives that we have in those cases, namely, nitre, powdered foxglove, and antimonial powder, in the proportion of a scruple of the first, four grains of the second, and two grains of the third. Congestion of the lungs is a frequent termina- tion of pneumonia ; and in that congestion the air- cells are easily ruptured and filled \yith blood. That blood assumes a black pulpy appeai-ance, commonly indicated by the terra of rottenness, an indication or consequence of the violence of the disease, and the hopelessness of the case. A difference consequence of inflammation of the lungs is the formation of tubercles, and, after that, of suppuration and abscess, when, generally speak- ing, the case is hopeless. A full account of this is given in ' The Horse.' Two cases of pneumonia will be useful : — Oct. '2^nd, 18-20. A black pointer bitch that had been used to a warm kennel, was made to sleep on fiat stones without straw. A violent cough followed, under which she had been getting worse and worse for a fortnight. Yesterday I saw her. The breathing was laboi-ious. The bitch was constantly shifting her position, and, whether she lay down or sat up, was endeavouring to ele- vate her head. Her usual posture was sitting, and she only lay down for a minute. The eyes were surrounded and the nose nearly stopped with mucus. V. S. iviij. Emet. Fever-ball twice in the day. 23 erf. Breathing not quite so laborious. Will not eat. Medicine as before. Apply a blister on the chest. flUh. Neai'ly the same. V. S. 3vj. Bol. utheri. 26<7i. Decided amendment. She breathes with much less diffi- culty. Less discharge both from eyes and nose. Bol. utheri. Nov. 1th. Sent home well. A singular and not uninstructive case came before me. A lady in the counti-y wrote to me to say that her terrier was thin, dull, husking, and perpetually tiying to get something from the throat ; that her coat stared, and she frequently panted. I replied, that I apprehended she had caught cold ; and recommended bleeding to the extent of four ounces, a grain each of calomel and emetic tartar to be given every fourth morning, and a fever-ball, composed of digitalis, nitre, and tartrate of antimony, on each inter- mediate day. A few days after this I received another letter from her, saying, that the dog was bled as ordered, and died on the following Thursday. That another veterinaiy surgeon had been called in, who said that the first one had punctured the rena cava in the operation, and that the dog had bled to death internally ; and she wished to know my opinion. I replied, that the charge pi'oceeded from ignorance or malice, or both. That in one sense he was right — the jugular, which the other had probably opened, runs into the vena cava, and may, with some latitude, be considered a superior branch of it ; therefore, thus far the first man had punctured the vena cava, which I had done many hundred times ; but that the point of union of the four principal veins that form the vena cava was too securely seated in the upper part of the thorax for any lancet to reach it. That the rupture of some small arterial vessel might have caused this lingering death, but that the puncture of a vein would either have been speedily fatal, or of no consequence ; and that, probably, the animal died of the disease which she had described. SPASMODIC COUGH is a troublesome disease to manage. Dogs, and especially those considerably petted, are subject to frequent cough, requiring a material difference in the treatment. Sometimes there is a husky cough, not to so great a degree as in distemper, but fol- lowed by the same apparent effoi't to get something from the throat, the same attempt to vomit, and the ejection of mucus, frothy or adhesive, and occa- sionally discoloured with bile. It proceeds from irritability or obstruction in some of the air-pas- sages, and oftenest of the superior ones. An emetic will clear the fauces, or at least force out a portion of the adhesive matter which is clogging the bron- chial tubes. A cough of this kind, and attended in its early stages by little fever, seldom requires anything more for its cure than the exhibition of a few gentle emetics, consisting of equal portions of 342 calomel and emetic tartar, given in doses varying from half a grain to one grain and a half of each. A harsh hollow cough is attended by more inflammatory action. The depletive system must be adopted here. A loud and harsh cough will yield only to the lancet and to purgatives, assisted by sedative medicines composed of nitre, antimo- nial powder, and digitalis, or small doses of syrap of poppies, or more minute doses of the hydro- cyanic acid; this last medicine, however, should be carefully watched, and only given under surgical advice. 2Sth October, 1832. A spaniel was apparently well yesterday, but towards evening a violent cough suddenly came on. It was harsh and hollow, and terminated in retching. There was a discharge of water from the eyes ; but the nose was cool and moist. Give an emetic, and then two grains of the James's powder. 29«/i. The animal coughed almost the whole of the night. There was more watery discharge from the eyes, which appeared to be red and impatient of light ; the nose continued cool, and the dog did not refuse his food. An aperient ball was given ; and twice afterwards in the day, the nitre, antimonial powder, and digitalis. QOth. The cough is as frequent, but not very loud. Give a mixture of syrup of poppies and prussic acid morning and night, and the ball as yesterday. 31s(. Nearly in the same state as yesterday, except that he is not so thirsty, and does not eat so well. Give the mixture three times daily. Nov. 1st. He had an emetic in the morning, which produced a large quantity of phlegm, bnt the cough is no better. No evacuation during the two last days. Give an aperient ball, and the mixture as before in the evening. The prussic acid has been fairly tried ; it has not in the least mitigated the cough, but begins to make the dog sick, and altogether to destroy his appetite. Give three times in the day a mixture consisting of two-thirds of a drachm of syrup of poppies, and one-third of syrup of buckthorn. The sickness ceased, and the cough remained as before. I then gave twice in the day half a grain of calomel, the same of opium, two each of pulvis antimonialis and digitalis, and four grains of nitre, morning and noon, with six grains of the Dover's powder at night. This was continued on the 3rd, 4th, and 5th of November, when there were longer intervals of rest, and the dog did not cough so harshly when the fit was on him. On the 6th, however, no medicine was given ; but towards evening the dog coughed as much as ever, and a decided mucous discharge commenced from the nose and the eyes, with considerable snorting. An emetic was given, and the balls resorted to as before. Ith. He appeared to be much relieved by the emetic. The cough was better, the dog ate well, and had regained his usual spirits. The" ball as before. Qth. Slight tenesmus now appeared. . It quickly became frequent and violent. The dog strained very much ; but the discharge was small ill quantity, and consisted of adhesive mucus Give two drachms of castor oil, and the fever-ball with opium. The cough is worse, and the dog still continues to strain, no blood, however, appear- ing, llth. The opium and oil have had their desired effect, and the cough is better. 12t/i. Except the animal is kept under the influence of opium, the cough is dreadfully troublesome. I- have, however, obtained one point. I have been permitted to subtract four ounces of blood ; but blood had been mingled with the expectorated mucus before I was permitted to have recourse to the lancet. IQth. The dog is better, and we again have recourse to the fever mixture, to which, on the lith, I added a very small portion of the carbo- nate of iron, for the dog was evidently getting weak. The sickness has returned, and the cough is decidedly worse. 16//i. Rub a small quantity of rheumatic embrocation, and tincture of cantharides. 17 th. The first application of the blister had not much effect ; but this morning it began to act. The dog ran about the house as cross as he could be for more than an hour ; there was considerable redness on the throat and chest. The cough, however, was decidedly better. 18^^.: The cough is better. Again apply the embrocation; IQth. The cough and huskiness have I'eturned, Employ an emetic, and continue the embrocation. 20th. The cough is decidedly worse. Continue the embrocation, and give the fever mixture. 23r(Z. The embrocation and medicine have been daily used ; but the cough is as bad as ever. Balls of assafa3tida, squills, and opium were had recourse to. 25f/i. The second ball produced the most distressing sickness, but the cough was evidently relieved. The assafoetida was discontinued. 28th. The cough, during the last two days, has been gradually getting worse. It is more laborious and longer, and the intervals between it are shorter. Give another emetic and continue the other medicine. 30th. The effect of the emetic was temporary, and the cough is again worse. Dec. 2nd. Very little change, bth. The cough appears to be stationary. Again have recourse to the antimony, digitalis, and nitre. 8th. The cough is certainly better. Try once more the assafcetida. It again produces sickness, but of a very mild character. I2th. The assafiptida was again used morning and night. The cough continues evidently to abate. lith. The dog coughs very little, not more than half-a-dozen times in the day. Notwithstanding the quantity of medicine that has been taken, the appetite is excellent, and the spirits good. 16th. The cough is still less frequent, but when it occurs it is 343-, attended with retelling. 19^7i. The cough is daily getting better, and is not heard more than three or four times in the four-and-twenty hours, and then very slight. 30th. At length I can say that the cough has ceased. It is seldom that so much trouble would have been taken with a dog. It is the neglect of the medical attendance which is often the cause of death. Professor Delafond, of Alfort, gives a most interesting and complete table of the usual diag- nostic symptoms of pleurisy and pneumonia. Pleurisy. Commeneement of the In- flammation.— Shivering, usually accompanied by slight colicky pains, and followed by general or partial sweating. Inspira- tion always short, unequal, and interrupted ; expiration full ; air expired of the natural tempera- ture. Cough unfrequent, faint, short, and without expectora- tion. Artery full. Pulse quick, small, and wiry. Auscultation. — A respirato- ry murmur, feeble, or accompa- nied by a slight rubbing through the whole extent of the chest, or in some parts only. Percussion.— Slight, dead, grating sound. Distinct reson- ance through the whole of the chest, and pain expressed when the sides are tapped or com- pressed. TV nninaiiorts. -Delitescence. Cessation of pain ; moderate temperature of the skin ; some- times profuse general perspira- tion. Respiration less accelera- ted ; inspiration easier and deeper. Pulse fuller and softer. Breath of the natural tempera- ture. Return of the natural respiratory murmur and reson- ance. The walls of the chest cease to exhibit increased sensi- bility. Effusion, faUe Membranes. — Inspiration more and more full. Auscultation a7id Percussion. — Complete absence of the res- piratory murmur, with the crepi- tating wheezing always at the bottom of the chest ; sometimes a gurgling noise. Vesicular Pneumonia. Commencement of the In- flammation.— General shiver- ing, rarely accompanied by coUcky pains,followed by partial sweats at the flanks and the inside of the thighs. Inspira- tion full, expiration short. Air expired hot. Cough frequently followed by slight discharge of red-coloured mucus. Artery full. Pulse accelerated, strong, full, and soft. Auscultation. — Absence of respiratory murmur in places where the lung is congested ; feebleness of that sound in the inflamed parts, -nith humid crepitating wheezing. The res- piratory murmur increased in the sound parts. Percussion. — The dead gra- ting sound confined to the inflamed parts. Distinct reson- ance at the sound parts; in- creased sensibility of the walls of the chest slight, or not existing at all. Zermina/ioJis.— Resolution. Temperature of the skin mode- rate. Sometimes profuse partial sweats. Laborious respiration subsiding; inspiration less deep. Artery less full. Pulse yielding. Breath less hot. Gradual and progressive disappearance of the crepitating rule. Slow retiun of the Hed Hepatization. — Respi- ration irregular and interrupted. Auscultation and Percus- sion.— Circumscribed absence of the respiratory murmur, without any determined place, in one point, or in many dis- tinct parts of the lung. The Pleueist. respiration very strong in the upper region of the chest, or in the sac opposite to the effusion. Continuanceof the Effusion. — Absence of the respiratory murmur gains the middle region of the chest, following the level of the fluid. These symptoms may be found on only one side ; a circumstance of frequent occurrence in the dog, but rare in other animals. The respira- tory murmur increases in the superior region of the chest, or on the side opposite to the efifusion. Inspiration becomes more and more prolonged. Breath always cold. Cough not existing, or rarely, and always suppressed and inter- rupted. Exercise producing much difiiculty of respiration. Resolution, or Re-absorp- tion of the effused Fluid, and Organization of false Mem- brane, the consequence of Pleurisy. — Slow butprogrcssive re-appearance of the respiratory murmur, and disappearance of the sounds produced by the fluid. Diminution of the force of the respiratory murmur in the superior part of the chest, or of the lung opposite to the sac in which the effusion exists. Gradual return of the respira- tory murmur to the inferior part of the chest. Inspiration less deep, and returning to its natural state. Chronic Pleurisy, with Uydrothorax. — Inspiration al- ways deep, expiration short. Cough dry, sometimes with ex- pectoration; frequent or caprici- ous; always absence of com- plete respiratory murmur in the inferior portion of the chest. Sometimes the gurgling noise during inspiration and ex- piration. Strong respiratory murmur in the superior portion. In dogs these symptoms some- times have existence only on one side of the chest. The mucous membranes are infiltra- ted ; serous infiltration on the lower part of the chest and belly ; sometimes of the scrotum or the inferior extremities ; generally of the fore legs. The animal lies down frequently, and dies of suffocation. Pneumonia. respiratory murmur increased in one or more of the sound parts of the Imigs, or in the soimd lung if one is inflamed. Passage to a State of Gray Induration. — The absence of respiratory murmur indicates extensive hepatization of one lung ; a circumstance, however, of rare occurrence When the induration is of both lungs, and equally so, the respiratory mur-" mur and the inspiration remain the same, except that they become irregular. The cough dry or humid, frequent, and sometimes varying. Exercise accompanied by difliculty of respiration, without dyspnoea, j Resolution, or Jte-ahsorp' Hon of the Products of Inflamn mation of the Parenchymaiout Substance of the Lungs.— Bi- minution of the force of the respiratory murmur in the sound parts. Cessation of the crepita- ting wheezing. Slow return of the respiratory murmur where it had ceased. Respiration ceases to be irregular or inter- rupted, and returns slowly to its natural state, or it remains interrupted. This indicates the passage from red to giay indura- tion. Chronic Pneumonia {Gray Induration.) — Inspiration or expiration interrupted. Cough unfrequent ; suppressed ; rarely with expectoration ; always in- terrupted. Complete absence of respiratory murmur. (Softening of the Indura- tion, Ulcerations, Vomicce,S^c.) — Mucous and wheezing ; mu- cous rale in the bronchial; dis- charge from the nostrils of purulent matter, white, gi-ay, or black, and sometimes fetid. Paleness of the mucous mem- branes. The animal seldom lies down, and never long at a time. Death by suffocation, when the matter proceeding from the vomicae, or abscesses, ob- structs the bronchial passages, or by the development of an acute inflammation engrafted upon the chronic one. 344 CHAPTER XII. ANATOMY OF THE GUrXET, STOMACH, AND INTESTINES; TETANUS; ENTERITIS; PERITONITIS; COLIC; CALCULUS IN THE INTESTINES ; INTUSSUSCEPTION ; DIARHHCEA ; DYSENTERY ; COSTIVENESS ; DROPSY ; THE liver; jaundice; the SPLEEN AND PANCREAS; INFLAMMATION OF THE KIDNEY; CALCULUS; INFLAMMATION OF THE BLADDER; RUPTURE OF THE BLADDER; WORMS; FISTULA IN THE ANUS. The cesoj^har/us, or gullet, of the dog, is con- structed in nearly the same manner as that of the horse. It consists of a similar muscular tube passing down the neck and through the chest, and terminating in the stomach, in which the process of digestion is commenced. The oritice by which the gullet enters the stomach is termed the card'ui, probably on account of its neighbour- hood to the heart or its sympathy with it. It is constantly closed, except when the food is passing through it into the stomach. The stomach has three coats : the outermost, which is the common covering of all the intestines, called the peritoneum ; the second or muscular coat, consisting of two layers of fibres, by which a constant motion is communicated to the stomach, mingling the food, and preparing it for digestion ; and the mucous or villous, where the work of digestion properly commences, the mouths of numerous little vessels opening upon it, which exude the gastric juice, to mix with the food already softened, and to convert it into a fluid called the chyme. It is a simpler apparatus than in the horse or in cattle. It is occasionally the primary seat of inflammation; and it almost invariably sympathizes with the afi'ections of the other intestines. The successive contractions of each portion of the stomach, expose by turns every portion of the alimentaiy mass to the influence of the gastric juice, and each is gradually discharged into the alimentary canal. As the chyme is formed, it passes out of the other orifice of the stomach, and enters the first intestine or duodenum. It may he naturally supposed that this process will occasionally be interrupted by a variety of circumstances. Inflammation of the stomach of the dog is very difficult to deal with. It is pro- duced by numerous different causes. There is great and long-continued sickness : even the most harmless medicine is not retained on the stomach. The thirst is excessive ; there are evident indica- tions of excessive pain, expressed by the counte- nance and by groans : there is a singular disposi- tion in the animal to hide himself from all observation ; an indication that should never be neglected, nor the frequent change from heat to cold, and from cold to heat. The mode of treatment is simple, although too often inefficient. The lancet must be immediately resorted to, and the bleeding continued until the animal seems about to fall ; and to this should quickly succeed repeated injections. Two or three drops of the croton oil should be injected twice or thrice in the day, until the bowls are thoroughly opened. The animal will be considerably better, or the disease cured, in the course of a couple of days. There is a singular aptitude in the stomach of the dog to eject a portion of its contents ; but, almost immediately afterwards, the food, or a portion if not the whole of it, is swallowed again. This is a matter of daily occurrence. There is a coarse rough grass, the cijnosurus cristatm, or crested dog's-tail. It is inferior for the purposes of hay, but is admirably suited for permanent pas- tures. It remains green after most other grasses are burnt by a continuance of dry weather. The dog, if it be in his power, has frequent recourse to it, especially if he lives mostly in a town. The dry and stimulating food, which generally falls to his share, produces an irritation of his stomach, from which he is glad to free himself; and for this purpose he has recourse to the sharp leaves of the cynosunis. They irritate the lining membrane of the stomach and intestines, and cause a portion of the food to be occasionally evacuated ; acting either as an emetic or a purgative, or both. They seem to be designed by nature to be substituted for the calomel and tartar emetic, and other drugs, which are far too often introduced. An interesting case of the retention of a sharp instrument in the stomach, is related by Mr. Kent of Bristol. On the 23rd of February, Mr. Harford, residing in Bristol, when feeding a pointer dog, happened to let the fork tumble with the flesh, and the dog swallowed them both. On the following morning, Mr. Kent was desired to see the animal : and, although he could feel the projection of the fork outwardly, which convinced hira that the dog had in reality swallowed it, yet, as he appeai-ed well, and exhibited no particular symptoms of pain or fever, Mr. Kent gave it as his opinion that there was a possibility that he might sumve the danger, and the animal was sent to hira, in order to be more immediately under his care. The treatment he adopted was, to feed him on cow's liver, with a view to keep the stomach distended and the bowels 345 open ; and lie gave him three times a-day half a pint of water, with sufticient sulphuric acid to make it rather strongly sour to the human tongue, with the intention of assisting the stomach in dissolving the iron. On the following Sunday, the skin at the pro- jecting point began to exhibit some indication of ulceration ; and on Monday a prong of the fork might be touched with the point of the linger, when pressed on the ulcer. Mr. Kent then deter- mined on making an effort to extract the fork on the following morning, which he accordingly did, and with but little difficulty, assisted by a medical friend of the owner. The dog was still fed on cow's liver ; his appetite remained good, and with very little medical treatment the external wound healed. The animal improved rapidly in flesh during the whole time. He left the inlirmaij in perfect health, and i-emained so, with one incon- venience only, a very bad cough, and his being obliged to lie at length, being unable to coil him- self up in his usual way. The fork was a three-pronged one, six and a half inches long. The handle, which was of ivory, was digested ; it was quite gone ; and either the gastric fluid or the acid, or both conjointly, had made a very apparent impression on the iron. Dogs occasionally swallow various strange and unnatural substances. Considerable quantities of hair are sometimes accumulated in the stomach. Half-masticated pieces of straw are ejected. Straw mingled with dung is a too convincing proof of rabies. Dog-grass is found irritating the stomach, or in too great quantities to be ejected, while col- lections of earth and dung sometimes threaten suffocation. Pieces of money are occasionally found, and lead, and sponge. Various species of polypus irritate the coats of the stomach. Portions of chalk, or stone, or condensed matters adhere to each other, and masses of strange consistence and form are collected. The size which they assume increases more and more. M. Galy relates an extraordinary account of a dog. It was about three years old when a tumour began to be perceived in the flank. Some sharp-pointed substance was felt ; the veteri- nary surgeon cut down upon it, and a piece of iron, six inches in length, was di'awn out. The following fact was more extraordinary : it is related by M. Noiret. A hound swallowed a bone, which rested in the superior part of the seso- phagus, behind the pharynx, and caused the most violent efforts to get rid of it. The only means by which it could be made to descend into the stomach was by pushing it with the handle of a fork, which, escaping from the hand of the opera- tor, followed the bone into the stomach. Two months afterwards, on examining the stomach, the fork was plainly felt lying in a longitudinal direc- tion, parallel with the position of the body ; the owner of the dog wishing mechanically to accelerate the expulsion of this body, endeavoured to push it backwards with his hands. When it was drawn as far back as possible, he inserted two fingers into the anus, and succeeded in getting hold of the handle, which he drew out nearly an inch; but, in order fully to effect his object, it was necessary to make an incision into the rectum, and free the substance from every obstacle tliat could retain it. This he did not venture to do, and he was therefore compelled to allow the fork to pass back into its former position. About three months after the accident, M. Noiret made an incision, three inches from above to below, and the same from the front backwards. He also made an incision through the muscular tissue. Having ai-rived at the peritoneum, he made another incision, through which he drew from the abdomen a part of the floating portion of the large intestines, and introduced his fingers into the abdominal cavity. He seized the handle of the fork which was among the viscera, and free about half way down, and drew it carefully towards the opening made in the flank. The other half of the fork was found to be closely enveloped by the origin of the mesocolon, which was red, hard, and inflamed. The operator freed it by cutting through the tissues which held the fork, and then drew it easily out. The animal was submitted to a proper course of treatment, and in thi-ee weeks afterwards was perfectly cured. The food having been converted into chyme by the digestive power of the stomach, soon undergoes another and veiy important change. It, or a por- tion of it, is converted into chyle. It is mixed with the bile and a secretion from the pancreas in the duodenum. The white thick liquid is separated, and contains the nutritive part of the food, and a yellow pulpy substance is gradually changed into excrement. As these substances pass on, the separation between them becomes more and more complete. The chyle is gradually taken up by the lacteals, and the excrement alone remains. The next of the small intestines is the jejunum, so called from its being generally empty. It is smaller in bulk than the duodenum, and the chyme passes rapidly through it. Next in the list is the ileum ; hut it is difficult to say where the jejunum terminates and the ileum commences, e.xcept that the latter is usually one-fifth longer than the former. At the termination of the ileum the cacum makes its appearance, with a kind of valvular opening into it, of such a nature that everytliing that passes along it having reached the blind or closed end must return in order to escape ; or rather the office of the cajcum is to permit certain alimentary matters and all fluids to pass from the ileum, but to oppose their return. 346 The colon is' an intestine of very large size, being one of the most capacious, as well as one of the longest, of the large intestines. It commences at the cfficum caput coli, and soon expands into a cavity of greater dimensions than even that of the stomach itself. Having attained this singular bulk, it begins to contract, and continues to do so during its course round the caecum, until it has completed its second flexure, where it grows so small as scarcely to exceed in calibre one of the small intestines ; and though from about the middle of this turn it again swells out by degrees, it never afterwards acquires its former capacious- ness ; indeed, previously to its junction with the rectum, it once more materially diifers in size. At the upper part of the margin of the pelvis the colon terminates in the rectum, which differa from the caecum and colon by possessing only a partial peritoneal covering, and being destitute of bands and cells. It enlarges towards its posterior extremity, and is furnished with a circular muscle, the sphincter ani ; adapted to preserve the anus closed, and to retain the feculent matter until so much of it is accumulated in the rectum as to excite a desire to discharge it. a disease of great fatality, often depends upon the condition of the stomach ; but it is not frequent in dogs. Why the dog is so little subject to tetanus, or lock-jaw, I am unable to explain. Sportsmen say that it sometimes attacks him when, being heated in the chace, he plunges into the water after the stag. The French give it the name of mal de cerf, from stags being supposed to be attacked in a similar way, and from the same cause. In the course of nearly forty years' practice, I have seen but four cases of it. The first arose from a wound in the foot. The cause of the second I could not learn. In both the spasmodic action was dreadful as well as universal. The dogs lay on their sides, the neck and legs stretched out, and the upper legs kept some inches from the ground by the intensity of the spasm. They might be taken up by either leg, and not a portion of the frame change its direction. At the same time, in their counte- nance, and by their hoarse cries, they indicated the torture which they endured. In the third case, which occurred 12th June, 1822, the head was drawn permanently on one side, and the whole body formed a kind of bow, the dog walking curiously sideways, often falling as it walked, and frequently screaming violently. I ordered him to be well rubbed with an ammo- niacal liniment, and balls of tonic and purging medicine to be given twice in the day. The dog gradually recovered, and was dismissed cured on the 20th. On the 1 6th November, in the same year, a bull-terrier had a similar complaint. He had been tried in the pit a fortnight before, and severely injured, and the pain and stiffness of his joints were increasing. The head was now permanently drawn on one side. The dog was unable to stand even for a moment, and the eyes were in a state of spasmodic motion. He was a most savage brute ; but I attempted to manage him, and, by the assist- ance of the owner, contrived to bleed him, and to give him a physic-ball. At the same time I ad- vised that he should be destroyed. His master would not consent to this ; and, as the dog occasionally ate a little, we contrived to give a grain each of calomel and opium every sixth hour. In the course of three days he was mate- rially recovered. He could stand, but was exceed- ingly weak. I ordered the calomel to be omitted, but the opium to be continued. Three days after- wards he was sent into the country, and, as I heard, perfectly recovered. The following is a very interesting case of tetanus, detailed by M. Debeaux, of the Royal French Chasseurs : — A favourite dog was missing. Four days had passed, and no intelligence could be obtained with regard to him until he returned home fatigued and half-staned. He had probably been stolen. In the excess of their joy, the owners crammed him with meat until he became strangely ill. His throat was filled with froth, the pupils of his eyes were dilated, the conjunctiva was strongly injected, his neck was spasmodically contracted, and the spine of the back was bowed, and most highly sensible to the touch. M. Debeaux was sent for ; it was an hour before he could attend. The dog was lying on his belly ; the four limbs were ex- tended and stiff. He uttered the most dreadful and prolonged howling every two or three minutes. The surgeon ordered the application of a dozen leeches to the chest and belly ; laxative medicines were given, and embrocations applied to the spine and back. Three days passed, and the symptoms evidently augmented. The excrement was dark and fetid, and the conjunctiva had a strong yellow tint. Leeches were again employed ; emollient lotions and aperient medicines were resorted to. The sensibility of the spine and back was worse than ever ; the animal lay on his belly, stretching out his four limbs, his neck fixed, his jaws immovable, his voice hoarse, and he was utterly unable to move. The bathings, lotions, and aperients were continued, with very few intermissions, until the 14th day, when the muscles began to be a little relaxed ; but he cried whenever he was touched. On the 15th, for the first time, he began to eat a little, and his natural voice returned ; still, how-. .547 ever, the spasms occasionally appeared, but very much mitigated, and on the 20th the pain had entirely ceased. On the 5th of the next month he travelled two leagues with his master. It was cold, and the snow fell. On his reaching home, all the horrible spasms returned, and it was eleven days before he was completely cured.* Mr. Blaine gives the following account of his experience of this disease : — " It is remarkable, that although dogs are subject to various spasmodic affections, yet they are so little subject to lock- jaw that I never met with more than three cases of it among many thousands of diseased dogs. Two of these cases were idiopathic ; one being appa- rently occasioned by exposure to cold air all night; in the other the cause was obscure. The third ■was of that kind cHiledi sympathetic, and arose from extreme injury done to one of the feet. In each of these cases the convulsive spasm was extreme, and the rigidity universal but not intense. In one case the jaw was only partially locked. Both warm and c«ld bathings were tried. Large doses of opium and camphor were given by the mouth, and also thrown up in clysters. The spine of one w'as blistered. Stimulating fi'ictions were applied to all, but in neither case with any salutary effect."! ENTERITIS. Enteritis, or inflammation of the intestines, is a disease to which dogs are very liable. It may be produced by the action of several causes. The intestines of the dog are peculiarly irritable, and subject to take on inflammatory action, and this tendency is often much increased by the artificial life which they lead. It is a very frequent com- plaint among those dogs that are much petted. A cold temperature is also a common cause of disease in these dogs. I was consulted with regai'd to a dog who was hiding himself in a cold, dark corner, paved with stone. Every now and then he lifted his head and uttered a howl closely resembling that of a rabid dog. He fixed his gaze intently upon me, with a peculiarity of expression which many would have mistaken for rabid. They, however, who have had the opportunity of seeing many of these cases will readily perceive the difference. The conjunctiva is not so red, the pupil is not so dilated, and the dog appears to implore pity and not to menace evil. In this state, if the dog is approached, he will not permit himself to be touched until he be con- vinced that no harm is intended. A peculiar slowness attends each motion ; his cries are fre- * Tetanus observed on a Dog, by M. Debeaux. — Praci. Med. Vet. 1829, p. 543. + Blaine's Canine Pathology, p. 151. quent and piteous ; his belly hot and tender ; two cords, in many cases, seem to run longitudinally from the chest to the pubis, and on these he can- not bear the slightest pressure. He abhors all food ; but his thirst for water, and particularly cold water, is extreme ; he frequently looks round at his flanks, and the lingering gaze is terminated by a cry or groan. In the majority of cases there is considerable costiveness, but in others the bowels are freely opened from the beginning. The peritoneal hiflammation is sometimes pure, but oftener involves the muscular coat of the intestines. Its prevailing cause is exposure to cold, especially after fatigue, or lying on the wet stones or grass. Now and then it is the result of neglected rheumatism, especially in old and petted dogs. The treatment is simple. Bleed until the pulse falters, put the animal in a warm bath, and let the belly be gently rubbed while the dog is in the water, and well fomented afterwards ; the drink should consist of warm broth, or warm milk and water. The bleeding should be repeated, if little or unsatisfactory relief is obtained ; and the examination of the rectum with the finger, and tlie removal of any hardened faeces that may have accumulated there, and the cautious use of ene- mata, neither too stimulating nor too forcibly injected, should be resorted to. No medicine should be employed until the most urgent symp- toms are abated. Castor oil, the mildest of our purgatives — syrup of buckthorn assisthig the pur- gative property of the oil, and containing in its composition as much stimulating power as is safe — and the spirit of white poppies — the most con- venient anodyne to mingle with the other medi- cines— will generally be successful in allaying the irritation already existing, and preventing the de- velopment of more. Even this must not be given in too large quantities, and the effect must be assisted by a repetition of the enemata every fifth or sLxth hour. On examination after death the nature of the disease is sufiiciently evident: the peritoneum, or portions of it, is highly injected with blood, the veins are turgid, the muscular membrane corrugated and hardened, while often the mucous membrane displays not a trace of disease. In violent cases, however, the whole of the intestines exhibit evidence of inflammation. I was much gratified a few years ago in wit- nessing the decided manner in which Professor Spooner expressed himself with regard to the treatment of enteritis in the dog. " I should deem it advisable," said he, " to administer a purgative ; but of what would that consist '? Calomel ? Cer- tainly not. I was sui-prised to hear one gentle- man assert that he should administer it to the extent of from five to ten grains, and another to say that he should not hesitate to exhibit a scruple 348 of calomel to a dog, and to all carnivorous animals. I should never think of exhibiting it as a cathar- tic. I should only administer it in small doses, and for the purpose of producing its specific effect on the liver, which is the peculiar property of this drug. Given in larger doses it would not be retained, and if it got into the intestines it would act as a powerful drastic purgative."* In our treatment of the horse we have got rid of a great proportion of the destructive urine-balls and drastic purgatives of the farrier. The cow is no longer drenched with half-a-dozen deleterious stimulants. A most desirable change has been effected in the medical treatment of these animals. Let us not, with regard to the dog, continue to pursue the destructive course of the keeper or the huntsman. The following case of enteritis, with rapture of the colon, may be useful : — On March 15, 1840, 1 was requested to attend a large dog of the bull breed, three years old, who had not appeared to be well dmiug the last four or five days. 1 had scarcely arrived ere I recognised it to be a case of enteritis. He had a dreadful shivering fit, to which succeeded heat of the skin and rest- lessness. The muzzle was dry and hot, as also was the tongue. The eyes were sunken and redder than usual ; the breathing was accelerated, but not very laborious ; the extremities were cold, while the surface of the body was hot and painful to the touch. The bowels were constipated, and had been so during the last week ; some dung, however, was evacuated, but it was hard and diy, and in small quantities. The pulse was quick, but full ; and there was a slight pain and con- siderable irritation in the rectum. I took from him § X. of blood before the desired effect was produced, and then gave him tinct. opii gr. xiv., et spt. ether, nit. gutt. viij., cum ol. ricini giij., and an opiate enema to allay the irritation of the rectum. This was about 8 o'clock a.m. 11 A.M. — The bowels have not been moved, and the pain is more intense; his countenance expresses great anxiety ; he frequently lies on his stomach, and the pulse is small but quick. I gave him a little broth, and ordered the abdomen to be fomented with hot flannels. 2 P.M. — He has had distressing sickness, and is extremely anxious for water. I introduced my finger into the rectum, but could not discover any hardened fjeces. Enemata, composed of mag- sulphas and warm water, were frequently thi'own into the intestines ; as soon as one came away another was thrown up. 4 P.M. — No better : gave him pulv. aloes 3j. ; calomel, gr. vj. et pulv. opii gr. viij. The fomen- * Proceedings of the Veterinary Medical Association, 1839-10. tations to be continued, and the abdomen rubbed with a lin. terebinthinse. 5 P.M. — A great change has taken place within the last hour ; the hind extremities are paralyzed ; the mouth and ears are cold ; the pulse is more hur- ried and irregular, and almost imperceptible ; the respiration is laborious and irregular, as is the pulse ; and the dog is frequently sick. To be kept quiet. 6 P.M. — Another change ; he lies panting and groaning piteously ; his limbs are bathed in sweat, with convulsive struggles. At twenty minutes past six he died. A post-mortem examination presented general marks of inflammation ; the small intestines were extremely red, while the large ones were in a gan- grenous state and most offensive, with a rupture of the colon. I did not expect to meet with the rup- ture, and am at a loss to account for it. The liver was of a pale ashen colour and very light. I put a piece of it into some water and it floated on the surface. The other contents of the abdomen did not show the slightest appearance of disease. Sept. 2nd, 1843. — A black pug-hitch, eighteen months old, was yesterday taken violently sick; the vomiting continued at intervals the greater part of the day, and she had not eaten during the last twenty -four hours. I could not possibly get at her on account of her ferocity : as she had not had the distemper, and, as I was misled by her age and the watery discharge from her eyes, and, as she had had several motions yesterday, I imagined that the attack might be the beginning of that disease. Learning that she was fond of sweet things, I pre- pared an emetic containing a grain of calomel and a grain of tartar emetic : she took it readily, and I promised to call on the following day. Sept. 3, The weakness at the eyes had disap- peared, but there had been no motion. On getting at her by main force I found her belly very tense and rather hot ; she had again been sick, was very eager for water, and still refused to eat. The dis- ease was now evident. As she appeared too un- manageable for anything else, I produced a physic- ball, in giving which I was bitten. Six hours afterwards I again went : no foeces had passed ; I administered two enemas, the second of which was returned with a small quantity of har- dened fiEces and an intolerable smell. I ordered the water to be removed, and broth to be substituted. Se2>t. 4. The dog is in good spirits, has eaten heartily, and had no motion, probably because it was habitually cleanly, and had not been taken out of doors. Her owner considered her as quite well, and dismissed me. Three days afterwards a ser- vant came to say that all was going on very well. PEEITONITIS. Chronic inflammation of the ])erit07ieal mem- brane is a frequent disease among dogs. The ani- 349 mal loses his appetite and spirits : he sometimes eats a Uttle and sometimes not ; he becomes thin, his belly is tucked up, and when we closely examine him we find it contracted and hard, and those lon- gitudinal columns of which I have already spoken are pecuUarly dense and almost unyielding. He now and then utters a half-suppressed whine, and he occasionally seeks to hide himself. In the greater number of cases he after a while recovers ; but he too often pines away and dies. On exami- nation after death the case is plain enough. There is inflammation of the peritoneal membrane, more indicated by undue congestion of the bowels than by the general blush of the membrane. The in- flammation has now spread to the muscular coat, and the whole of the intestine is corrugated and thickened. There is another peritoneal affection, aggra- vated by combination with a rheumatic tendency, to which the dog is more disposed than any other domesticated animal. It has its most frequent origin in cold, or being too much fed on stimulating and acrid food, and probably from other causes which have not yet been sufficiently developed. Here also no drastic purgative is to be ad- mitted ; it would be adding fuel to fire ; not a grain of calomel should be used if the life of the animal is valued. The castor-oil mixture will afford the most certain relief, a drop or two of the oil of peppermint being added to it. The dog is also subject to fits of colic, princi- pally to be traced to improper food, or a sudden change of food, or exposure to cold. This is par- ticularly the case with puppies. There is no red- ness of the eye, no heat of the mouth, no quickened respiration ; but the animal labours under fits of pain. He is not quiet for a minute. He gets into one corner and another, curling himself closely up, but he does not lie there more than a minute or two ; another fit of pain comes on ; he utters his peculiar yelp, and seeks some new place in which he may possibly find rest. It is with considerable diffidence that I offer an opinion on this subject contrary to that of Mr. Blaine. He states that the treatment of this species of colic is seldom successful, and that which has seemed the most efficacious has been mercurial purgatives : namely, calomel one grain, aloes a scruple, and opium a quarter of a grain, until the bowels are opened. I have seldom found much difficulty in relieving the patient suffering under this affection ; and I gave no aloes nor calomel, but the oleaginous mixture to which I have so often referred. I should not so much object to the aloes, for they constitute an excellent purgative for the dog; nor to a dog that I was preparing for work, or that was suffering from worms, should I object to' two or three grains of calomel intimitely mixed with the aloes: from the combined effect of the two some good might be obtained. CALCULUS IN THE INTESTtNES. Many persons have a very foolish custom of throwing stones, that their dogs may dive or run after them, and bring them to their owner's feet : the consequence is, that their teeth are soon worn down, and there are too many cases on record in which the stone has been swallowed. It has been impeded in its progress through the intestinal canal, inflammation has ensued, and the animal has been lost, after having suffered the most dreadful torture. Professor Simonds relates a case in which a dog was thus destroyed. The animal for some daj's previous to his admission into the hospital had refused his food, and there was obstinate constipation of the bowels, to remove which aperient medicine had been given. The pulse was accelerated, there was distention of the abdo- men ^vith evident tenderness on pressure, the extremities were cold, no faeces were voided, and he occasionally vomited. Some aperient medicine was given, which was retained on the stomach, and enemas and external stimulants were resorted to, but two days afterwards he died. The intesthies were examined, and the offend- ing body was found to be a common pebble. The dog had long been accustomed to fetch stones out of the water. One of these stones had passed through the stomach into the mtestines, and, after proceeding some distance along them, had been impacted there. The inflammation was most intense so far as the stone had gone ; but in the part of the intestine to which it had not reached there was not any. This was an interesting and instructive case, and should make its due im- pression. Another account of the strange contents of the intestines of a bitch may be here introduced. A valuable pointer-bitch was sent to the infirmary of Mr. Godwin of Lichfield. She pre- sented a very emaciated appearance, and had done so for four or five months. Her evacuations for a day or two were very thin and copious, and after- wards for several days nothing was passed. When pressing the abdomen with both hands, a hard substance was distinctly felt in the inferior part of the umbilical region. She was destroyed, and, upon post-mortem examination, a calculus was discovered in the ilium about the size and shape of a hen's egg, the nucleus of which was a portion of hair. The coats of the intestines were con- siderably thickened and enlarged, so as to form a kind of sac for its retention. Anterior to this was I another substance, consisting of a ball of hair, 350 covered with a la_yer of earthy matter about the eighth of an inch thick, and next to this another ball of hair of less dimensions, intermixed with a gritty substance. The stomach contained a large quantity of hair, and a portion of the omentum, about the size of a crown piece, was thickly studded with small white calculi, the largest about the size of a pea, and exceedingly hard. INTUSSUSCEPTION. If peritonitis — inflammation — is neglected, or drastic purgatives are too often and too plentifully administered, a peculiar contraction of the muscu- lar membrane of the intestine takes place, and one portion of the bowl is received within another — there is iiitussusception. In most cases, a portion of the anterior intestine is received into that which is posterior to it. Few of us have opened a dog that had been labouring under this peculiar affec- tion without being struck with the collapsed state of the canal in various parts, and in some much moi'e than in others. Immediately posterior to this collapsed portion, it is widened to a considera- ble extent. The peristaltic motion of the intestine goes on, and the consequence is, that the constricted portion is received into that which is widened, the anterior portion is invaginated in the posterior: obstruction of the intestinal passage is the necessary consequence, and the animal dies, either from the general disturbance of the system which ensues, or the inflammation which is set up in the invaginated part. I will say nothing of medical treatment in this case ; for I do not know the symptoms of intussus- ception, or how it is to be distinguished from acute inflammation of the bowels. Acute inflammation will not long exist without producing it ; and, if its existence should be strongly suspected, the treatment would be the same as for inflammation. The domesticated dog, from the nature of his food, more than from any constitutional tendency, is liable to constipation. This should never be neglected. If two or three days should pass with- out an evacuation, the case should be taken in hand ; otherwise inflammation will be very soon established. In order to procure an evacuation, the aloetic ball, with one or two grains of calomel, should be given. Beyond that, however, I should not dare to go ; but, if the constipation continued, I should have recom'se to the castor-oil mixture. I should previously examine and empty the rectum, and have frequent recourse to the enema-syringe ; and I should continue both. It would be my object to evacuate the intestinal canal with as little increased action as possible. IS the discharge of faeces more frequently than usual, and thinner than their natural consistence. but otherwise not materially altered in quality ; and the mucous coat of the intestines being some- what congested, if not inflamed. It is the conse- quence of over-feeding, or the use of improper food. Sometimes it is of very short continuance, and disappears without any bad consequence ; the health being unaffected, and the character of the faces no otherwise altered than by assuming a fluid character. It may not be bad practice to wait a day, or possibly two, as it is desirable for the action of the intestines to be restored without the aid of art. I should by no means give a phy- sic ball, or a grain of calomel, in simple diarrhcea. I should fear the establishment of that species of purging which is next to be described. The castor-old mixture usually affords the best hope of success. Habitual diarrhcea is not an unfrequent disease in petted dogs : in some it is constitutional, in others it is the effect of neglected constipation. A state of chronic inflammation is induced, which has become part of the constitution of the dog ; and, if repressed in the intestines, it will appear under a more dangerous form in some other place. DYSENTERY is a far more serious complaint. In most cases a considerable degree of inflammation of the mucous coat exists, and the mucus is separated from the membrane beneath, and discharged per anum. The mucus thus separated from the intestinal membrane assumes an acrid character. It not only produces inflammation of the membrane, dangerous and difficult to treat, but it excoriates the anus and neighbouring parts, and produces pain and tenesmus. This disease has sometimes been fatally mis- understood. A great deal of irritation exists in the intestinal membrane generally, and in the lower part of the rectum particularly. The faeces passing over this denuded surface causes a consider- able degree of pain, and there is much straining, and a very small bit or portion of faeces is evacu- ated. This has often been seen by the careless observer ; and, as he has taken it as an indication of costiveness, some drastic purgative has been administered, and the animal quickly killed. No one that had ascertained the real nature of the disease would administer calomel in any form or combination ; but the anodyne mixture as an enema, and also administered by the mouth, is the only medicine from which benefit can be expected. is a disease when it becomes habitual. It is con- nected with disease of the intestinal canal. Many dogs have a dry constipated habit, often greatly in- creased by the bones on which they are too frequently 351 fad. This favours the disposition to mange and to many diseases depending on morbid secretions. It produces indigestion, encourages worms, blackens the teeth, and causes fetid breath. The food often accumulates in the intestines, and the consequence is inflammation of these organs. A dog should never be suffered to remain costive more tlian a couple of days. An aloetio ball or some Epsom salts should then be administered ; and this failing to produce the desired effaot, the castor-oil mix- ture, with spirits of buckthorn and white poppies, should be administered, and the use of the clyster- pipe resorted to. It may be necessary to intro- duce the finger or the handle of a spoon when the f;ecal matter is more than usually hard, and it is with ditiiculty broken down : small doses of castor oil should be afterwards resorted to, and recourse be occasionally had to boiled liver, which the dog will rarely refuse. The best means, however, of •preventing costiveness in dogs, as well as in men, is regular exercise. A dog who is kept chained up in a kennel should be taken out and have a certain quantity of exercise once in the twenty-four hours. When this cannot be done, the food sliould consist chiefly of well-boiled fari- nacious matter. DROPSY. Another disease, which is not confined to the abdominal cavity, is dropsy ; but as in the dog it most commonly assumes that form which is termed ascites, or dropsy of the abdomen, it may be noticed in this place. It is seldom an idiopathic or primary affection, but is generally the conse- quence of some other disease, most commonly of an inflammatory kind. Dropsy is a collection of fluid in some part of the frame, either from increased exhalation, or from diminished absorption, the consequence of inflammation. The divisions of dropsy are into active and passive, or acute and chronic. The causes are also very properly arranged as predis- posing and exciting. The diseases on which dropsy most frequently supervenes are fevers and visceral inflammations and obstructions. The dog is pecu- liarly subject to ascites or dropsy of the belly, and the quantity of fluid contained in the abdomen is sometimes almost incredible. It is usually accom- panied or characterized by a weak, unequal, small, and frequent pulse— paleness of the lips, tongue, and gums — flaccidity of the muscles, hurried breathing on the least exertion, feebleness of the joints, swellings of the lower limbs, effusion of fluid into the integuments or among the muscles, before there is any considerable effusion into the thorax or the abdomen, and an unhealthy appear- ance of the cutaneous surface. The urine seldom coagulates. This form of dropsy is usually in the abdomen or cellular tissue. The treatment of ascites is seldom perfectly successful. Tlie great extent of the peritoneum, the number and importance of the viscera with which it is connected, and of the absorbent glands which it encloses, the number and weakness of the veins which transmit their blood to the portal vessels, and the absence of valves, in some maasure account for the frequent accumulation of fluid in this cavity. It appears in both sexes from the usual causes of inflammatory disease. Unwholesome diet, the drastic operation of purga- tives, external injuries, the suppression of accus- tomed secretions and discharges, all are exciting causes of dropsy. The animal has suffered materially from mange, which has been apparently cured ; the itchiness and eruption altogether disappear, but many weeks do not elapse ere ascites begins to be seen, and the abdomen is gradually distended with fluid. When this appears in young and healthy animals, it may be conquered ; but when there has been previous disease of almost any kind, comparatively few patients permanently recover. Irritability of the stomach, and a small and accelerated pulse are unfavourable. If the operation of tapping has taken place, at all times there is danger; but if there is a thick, brown, albuminous, or fetid dis- charge, it is very unlikely that any permanent advantage will result from the operation. We will introduce a few cases as they occur in our clinical records. November 1th, 1821. — A spaniel, nine years old, had been, during four months, alternately asthmatic or mangy, or both. Within the last few days she had apparently increased in size. I was sent for. The first touch of the abdomen betrayed considerable fluctuation. She likewise had piles, sore and swelled. I ordered an altera- tive ball to be given morning and night. Qth. One of the balls has been given, and two doses of castor oil ; but no effect has been produced. An injec- tion was administered. Qth. A small evacuation of water has been produced, and the bowels have, been slightly opened. Give a dose of the castor- oil mixture. lOth. The obstruction has been re- moved ; the enlargement is somewhat diminished ; much water has passed. Give an alterative ball every morning. lUh. The alteratives have been continued, and there is a slow but evident decrease of the abdomen. 18tained, and the weight depends upon the size of the head and the muscular development of the neck and shoulders. " When," says Sir Charles Bell, " we look upon the boar's head, we comprehend sometbing of bis habits, and see what must be the direction of bis strength. He feeds by digging up loots, and the instruments by which he does this are also those of his defence. The position of the tusk defends the eye in rushing through the underwood ; and the formation of the skull, and the spine, and the mass of muscle in the neck, all show the intention that he shiill drive onward with his whole weight and strength, so that he may I'end with his tusks. Accordingly we see that the bat k part of the sluiU rises in remarkable sjiines or ridges for the attiich- nient of muscles, and that corresponding ^\ilh these the sjiinous processes of the verlebrae of the back are of extraordinary length and strength. These processes distinctly indicate the power of the muscles which pass from the neck to the head. We now understand the reason of the shortness and inflexibility of the neck ; because the power of the shoulders is directed to the head, and we may say to these large tusks. An elongated and flexible neck would have rendered these provisions useless. The characteristic form of the wild-boar then consists in the shortness and thickness of the ^# 4*-yi^- Ski I L It y 803 Di^ck, the wedge-shape of the lieail, tlie projet'tion of the tusk, and the shortness of the fore-legs, whieli must always be in proportion to the neck." — Betl on the Hand. In the hog the two frontal and two parietal bones, at first distinct, unite early together. The temporal fossa is deep and bounded above by an acute ridge ; it gives lodgment to the temporal muscle. The zygomatic arch is bold and strong. The area of the cerebral cavity is only half that of the cranium as it appears externally, so much is its volume augmented by the extensive frontal sinuses, which are carried even to the occiput. The existing suida are resolvable into several distinct genera, of which one genus is peculiar to South America, the others belong to the older continents and the adjacent islands. The genera in question are, Siis, Linn.; Babinissa. F. Cuvier (Labi, in Malay, a hog, rttssa, a stag); PhacocJicerus. F. Cuvier (<(>a/cos, a wart, and x"''P'>^- a hog) ; and Dicotyh's, Cuvier (5is, double. kotvAij, a pit, dimple, or navel). Dentition. — Vpper jaw — Incisors six. Of these the two middle are the largest, and incline obliquely towards each other ; the next incisor on each side leans towards its predecessor, and is flattened and trenchant, with a notched edge. The next on each side is a little removed from the others, and is small. In the milk teeth the second pair are larger than the first. After an interval succeed the canines on each side, commonly called tusks ; they are prismatic, pointed, and curved, with a sudden sweep, the socket standing out from the line of the other teeth and being rather averted. Their anterior aspect is worn by the action of the huge canines of the lower jaw. The molars are seven on each side. The first is small, simple, compressed, and removed from the succeeding one ; it is often lost ; the next three gradually increase in size and are compressed ; the next three (true molars) also gradually increase in size, their crowns are furnished with obtusely pointed tuber- cles ; the last molar is longer than broad. Loiri'i- jaw — Incisors long, cylindrical, blunt at the point, advancing oblicjuely forwards so that they almost form a right angle with those of the upper jaw, which they do not meet directly, point opposed to point, but with an oblique bearing. The canines are very large and strong, and advance before those of the upper jaw, against which they wear. These tusks grow, if not during life, to aii advanced period of existence ; they sometimes attain to the length of eight or ten inche-^, and are most formidable weapons. In the female, the tusks are comparatively small. The molars are seven on each side in number, and resemble in character those of the upper jaw. TEETH OF The species of the restricted genus siis are more numerous than has been hitherto supposed ; recent researches and examinations have demon- strated the distinctness of many which had previously been confounded together and regarded as identical with the ordinary wild boar [Sus scrqfa, Linn. ; Sus aper. Buff.) We may here refer to Miiller's work on the Zoology of Borneo (Leyden, 1839), to Smuts (Mamm. Cap.}, to Wagner in the Munich Transactions, vol. ix., to Schreber [Sduffe- thier, Suppl, iv.), and to other zoologists who have greatly added to our information respecting tlie )iresent group. Many of the species are admiralily figured by Miiller, and comparative views of their skulls are given. The following species appear to be determined : 1. The Common Wild Hog (Shs Scrofa). Le SanrjUer of the French ; he Marcassin, while young ; La Laie. female. — This species, once common in our island, attains to a large size ; its snout is thick and elongated ; and its general form is massive and robust. The ears ai-e mode- rate and erect. A fine specimen in the British Museum is thickly covered with coarse bristles of a grizzled black colour ; the back of the neck and spine are maned with longer bristles, and the cheeks are bearded with bushv dark-black whiskers 394 of long bristles. The yoniiL; are marked with alternate but irregular longitudinal ribands of brown and j-ellowish white. According to Cuvier [Ler^ons d'Aiiatomie com- jiaree), the number of vertebnie in this species is as follows: — cervical- 9, dorsal 14, lumbar 5, sacral 4, caudal 20. The wild hog is extensively spread throughout Europe and Asia, e.xtending to Japan : at least the Japanese species has not been proved to be distinct. It appears also to inhabit the Atlantic chain of mountains in North Africa. Colonel Sykes regards the Dookur, or Dukhun Wild Hog, as identical with the sus scrofa. "Wild hogs," he s^ys, "abound in Dukhun (Deccan), and the males attain to a very great size. I am not satisfied that there is any specific diffe- rence between the Eui'opean and Asiatic wild hog. Every village abounds with hogs, but any property in them is equally abjured by individuals and the community. They live in the streets, are the public scavengers, and dispute with the Pariah dogs the possession of offal matters thrown out from the houses. They certainly are of the same species as the wild hog. The flesh of the latter is eaten by almost all castes of Hindoos excepting the Brahmins and Buneeas ; but the flesh of the village hog is not even touched by the carrion- devouring outcast, the Mahr. The village hog is of the same colour as the wild animal, mostly a rusty black, and the only variations are slate black, or slate intense brown ; but it is not above two-thirds of the size of the latter. Tail never curled or spirally twisted." — Catalogue of Mam- malia observed in Dulhun. According to Mr. M'Clelland the common wild hog exists in Assam. " The size to which the wild boar attains in Assam may be conceived from one of the skulls of the animal in my collection, containing a tusk which measures in length twelve inches." — M'Clelland's MS. Proceedings Zool. Hoc. 1839, p. 150. We here forbear to enter into a history of the wild hog, reserving our details until we come to the consideration of the domestic breed which has descended from it. Our principal object, at pre- sent, is to give a clear view of the various species as now established. At the same time, while we omit for the present farther notice of the sus scrofa, we shall not so closely bind ourselves with respect to other species, and this the rather as we shall not be necessitated to intermix their history hereafter with that of the species to which our chief attention is necessarily called in the work before us. We might indeed, without much blame, pass over all the species excepting that from which our domestic stock is derived, but in so doing we should, in our own estimation, commit an egre- gious error, and for the following reasons : — First, we are not certain that every domesticated breed of hog IS derived from one and the same source, consequently no wild species should be disregarded. Secondly, a professed work on the domestic hog would not only lose much interest, but much in- trinsic value, were it divested of that information, relative to the tribe, which has been the result of modern researches. And, thirdly, no mongraph of the suidce has yet appeared in an English form. It is by diligence only that, from the writings of various foreign travellers and zoologists, as Boie, Miiller, Wagner, Sclu-eber, and others, we are enabled to lay before our readers a more distinct and clear view of this long neglected group, than has yet appeared in a popular form. By the kindness of the officers of the British Museum (and we thank Mr. Gray and Mr. Waterhouse), the specimens of the suidce there preserved, both extant and fossil, have been unreservedly submitted to our inspection ; while works and splendid en- gravings, little known to the public, have been brought forward to aid us in our researches. To neglect such advantages would be worse than error. '2. The Crested Wri.D Hog [Sus cristatus, Wagner in the Munich Transactions, ix. p. 535 ; and in Schreber's Sciugeth. SuppL, iv. p. 297). This species is a native of Southern India, and is less than the European wOd hog in size. It is of a yellowish brown intermixed with black, passing on the under parts into dirty white. A distinct beard or tuft of bristles occupies the cheeks ; and the bristles of the forehead, top of the head, and back are elongated, so as to constitute a sort of mane. Wagner observes that this species is pecu- liar to "Fore-India," and that the "Hinder- Indian" wild hog is as yet undetermined. As we have already observed. Colonel Sykes considers the wild hog of Duklnin to be identical with the common species, as Mr. M'Clelland does that of Assam. 3. The Bearded Wild Hog {Sus barbatus, IMiiller in Vcmder Hoeven's Tydschr., v., p. 149, and Verhandel, p'. 42, tab. 30). Bahi-utan of the Malays. The bearded wild hog is a very well marked species, which appears to be peculiar to Borneo. The upper part of the body is dusky ochre yellow ; the sides and under parts have black bristles, in- termixed with those of a lighter colour ; the feet are dusky black ; the top and back of the head are covered with smooth hairs ; but the sides of the head, the lower jaw, and the cheeks to the ears, are covered by a rough curly beard, giving to the animal a singular appearance. This species is liable to some variation of colour. Captain the Hon. H. Keppel, R.N., speaking of the wild hog of Borneo {Expedition to Borneo of Her Majesty's ship Dido, uith Extracts from th<.- Journal of J. THK HOG. 3!) 5 Brooke, Esq., 1846), says, " the jaws are long, and the tusks also, and as sharp as a razor ; and when once wounded the animals evince a strong inclination to return the compliment. They are active, cunning, and very fast." Mr. Brooke de- scribes these wild hogs as dirty white, with a black head, but observes that he saw several young wild pigs black. In another place Mr. Brooke says, " We left Tungong — we saw many wild hogs, and on one occasion 1 was able to get within twenty yards of some ten of them together amongst some large drift-wood, on the beach of the Sampudian river. Just as I was crawling over a tree, and balancing, I found myself confronted by these animals, but they were out of sight almost before I could cock my gun and fire. They were of a large size, and most of them we saw during the evening were either dirty white or white and black." 4. The Warted Wild Hog {Sus verrucosus, Mijller, Verhandel, i., p. 42, tab. 28). — The colour of this species is dusky brown, paler on the under parts ; a short tufted beard occupies the cheeks ; a warty protuberance is placed below the eye ; the tail is curly. This species is a native of Java, hut a blacker variety, regarded by Miiller as dis- tinct, is found in the Celebes Islands. It is termed by Miiller Sus Celebensis (^Verhandel, tab. 28 bis). 5. The Banded Wild Hog (Sus vittatus, Miiller, Verhand., i., p. 42, tab. 29).— General colour blackish brown ; a whitish transverse bar crosses the top of the snout, and spreading over the cheeks in a wing-like form, extends to the sides of the throat. This species is a native of Java, Sumatra, and Banca. A smaller variety (Sus Timoriensis, Miiller, 1. c, p. 42, tab. 31, fig. 1-3) inhabits Timor. 6. The Papuan Wild Hog (Sus Papuensis, Less, and Garn., Zool. de la Coquille). — This species, the Bene of the Papuans, is thus described by Lesson : — " This new species, which we have figured in plate viii. of our atlas, is remarkable for its small size, and its lipht and agreeable con- tour. The canines of the upper jaw are very small, and almost of the same form as the incisors. The bristles are tolerably thick, yellow and brown below, white above, and ringed with black. The tail is very short. The young are of a brown colour, more or less intense, and have on the back five stripes of a clear yellow. The length of this species is three feet. It is common in the forests of New Guinea. The Papuans esteem its flesh (which we foiuid excellent), and catch the young ones in the woods, in order to rear them in a state of partial domestication. The Sus Papuensis exhi- bits many points of analogy with the peccaries, and seems to be intermediate between them and the hogs. The individual which we have described presented only thirty-six teeth : perhaps there were four molars yet to be developed, which would bring them to forty, the total number." — Lesson, Manuel de Zoologie. 7. The Masked Wild Hog (Sus larvatus, F. Cuvier ; Smuts, Mamm. Cap., p. 59; Sus Africanus, Schreb., tab. 327 ; Sanglier de Mada- gascar, Daubenton ; Bosch-vark or wood-swine of the Dutch; Choiropotamus Africanus iu Catal. of Mamm. in the British Museum. This savage and formidable species is a native of the eastern districts of Southern Africa, and also, it is said, of Madagascar. The aspect is singular and repulsive, owing to a huge protube- rance on each side of the head, crowned with a pendent warty mass, concealing the lower part of the face. Two other separate and smaller tubercles are placed above this mask, immediately beneath the eyes. Iu this species, the zygomatic arches extend more outwards, and take a more horizontal direction than in the common wild boar ; and a great elevated apophysis rises above the alveolus of the upper canine tooth, ascends obliquely, and terminates by a large rough tubercle. It is to these osseous prominences that the huge warts or mammiform excrescences, which give this animal so hideous an aspect, adhere. In general con tour, the masked wild hog resembles the ordi- nary species ; its neck, however, is shorter, and its snout broader, and its head is altogether larger in proportion. Prompt and vicious, this animal is much to be dreaded in close combat ; its great strength, and the size of its tusks, render it a match for the most daring enemy. Like its European relative, however, it does not begin the assault ; it does not seek the contest, but it does not decline it. It is said to dwell in excavations in the ground, whence it rushes out on its assailants. We are informed by Dr. Smith that this species is subject to great variety of colour, scarcely any two specimens being precisely alike. Some are of a brownish black variegated with white, and others are of an almost uniform light reddish brown, or rufous without any white markings, and it is scarcely possible to say which is the most prevailing style of colouring. The bristles are long, particularly upon the upper parts of the neck and back ; the canines are very strong ; the ears are short, and thinly covered without and within with coarse black hair, which is longest at the tips. The tail is thinly covered with bhick bristles. Average length of the body, between four and five feet ; of the tail, one foot. Of two specimens in the British Museum, one (that of a young animal) is sandy- red, with cheek- tufts ; another (apparently that of an adult) is of a grizzled black, with white linear cheek-tufts ; the eyes are encircled by white, and a black triangular patch is above each cheek-tuft. It is, we consider, z 2 390 of tllif BpariT tlie fo '■'I'l.e tllLV 11 pccics, aiul not ui the ]>Ju((ti,h(cn(s, that 11 gives some iiiten stin^- details; and wing desci-i])tion. we tlimk, pnAcs it: — 1 is flattened at tlie li]!, apd tins apjiendage er fail, either old or young, to hold quite ei( ct in the air during the whole time they are ]M!rsueil. With respect to taste, I found the tlesh very uiucli to resemble that of the ordinary pig. I never observed the animals to be of that dark hue aserilied lo them by M. Pallas, and which M. Vos niaer has given them in the coloured figures he has imldislied, those that I saw being of a bright ytlluu- culoiir, like the greatest part of our domestic swine. Neither did 1 hear any body in the colony call them haartloopers, as M. Vosmaer pretends tliey are termed ; though, on the other hand, I have frequently heard the Hottentots call them kdiuiaha, and have likewise been informed by the same people that these creatures are fond of walking in the mire, and are wont to grub after the root of a shrub of the mesembi^anthemum kind, which they call da-t-kai." The animals noticed by Pallas and Vosmaer were doubtless the Tlaclc-vark or black hog (phacochcerus) and not the huHch-vark, of which Sparrman saw only yellow or sandy-rufous varieties, and of the existence of which only he appears to have been aware, conse- quently the observations he makes respecting the details given , by Pallas and Vosmaer (and which details refer to the vlacke-vark or phacochcerus) are altogether foreign to the matter. I'lie masked wild hog, or hosch-vark, is to a cer- tain e.xient gregarious ; at least, the females with their young associate together for mutual defence, as is the case with the ordinary wild swine of Europe. Sparrman (Travels. English traii->lati()iO says, " This day ] saw for the first time a hcnl of boschvarkens, or, as they are likewise called, irildv- varkens (wood-swine or wild swine), in their wild uncultivated state ; for I had seen only one of this species of animals in the menagerie of the Cape. He was confined there with a strong iron chain, and was very wild and vicious In a head of this animal, salted and dried, which I gave to the Pioyal Academy of Sciences in Sweden, the Tjpper tusks stand nine inches out of the jaws, and measure full five inches in circumference at the base. The two other tusks, which come from the lower jaw, project but three inches from the mouth, being flat on the inside, and corresponding with another plain surface similar to it on the upper These the beasts make use of, not so tusks. much for biting, as for goring and butting with. A little pig of this species, which I afterwards caught at Fish River and had tied up, thinking to bring it alive along with me, had already got this trick, so that I was soon obliged to let it'be killed. It was terribly vicious, and quick in all its motions, and though at that time not absolutely dangerous, yet my boschmen were very much afraid of it. "\^'e had rather, said they, nttack a lion on the plain than an African wild boar ; for this, though much smaller, comes rushing on a man as swift as an arrow, and throwing him down, snaps his legs in two, f r rips up his belly, before he can get to strike it and kill it with his javelin The dwel- ing-place of this same species of wild boar, to which the avenues seemed to be very narrow, is underground. I have been told, indeed, that the bosch-varkens go down into them backwards and place themselves in a row, one behind the other ; but this is not very likely, for probably these pas- sages are widened lower down. Thus much, however, is certain, that people dare not attack them in their holes, for fear of their coming out upon them on a sudden. The body of this ani- mal is small in comparison with its head, a con- formation which facilitates its burrowing and living underground. " It would not be adviseable for a man on horse- back to approach too near, or to hunt this animal, as it will often turn round on a sudden, and striking with its tusks at the horse's legs, after- wards kill both him and his rider. " This day I pursued several young pigs with the old sows with a view to shoot one of tliem, but in vain ; nevertheless, the chase of them afforded me peculiar pleasure. On a sudden the heads of the old ones, which before were of a tolerable size, seemed to have grown still larger and more shape- less than they were before, which wonderful and momentary change astonished me so much the more, as my hard riding over a country full of bushes and pits had hitherto prevented me from giving sufficient attention to the manner in which it was brought about. The secret, however, con- sisted in this ; each of the old ones while they were making off took a pig in its mouth, a circum- stance that also explained to me another subject of my surprise, namely, that all the pigs (young) which I was just before chasing along with the old ones vanished all on a sudden. In this action we find a kind of unanimity among the wood-swine, in which they resemble the tame species, and which they have in a greater degree than many other animals. It is very astonishing that the pigs should be carried about in this maimer, between such large tusks as those of their mothers, without being hurt, or crying out in the least. I saw the same done on two other occasions as I was chasing them. The cry of the young is like that of our common pigs, as I found by some we after- wards caught." "Whether this species will breed with the com- mon swine (and the same observation applies to the preceding species, the sus scrofa excepted) remains to be proved. Sparrman indeed informs us iliat he heard of a farmer in South Africa who 307 had a brood between the wood-swine and the ordiuary race, but he does not voucli for the accu- racy of the statement. Occasionally it would appear that these wood- swine are caught and rendered tame. The same traveller thus writes : — " I observed a peculiar circumstance on my return home through Lange Kloof, which was that two tame pigs (young wood- swine), at a farmers in that province, not only went down on their knees to graze, but even successively changed their posture to that of standing with the greatest ease. This faculty the animal seems to have acquired in its subterranean caverns, and it proceeds from the creature's neck being too short to be conveniently lowered to the ground." Most probably, as it uses its mouth in digghig, it requires full play in order to bring the tusks into etiicient action ; but, that the animal acquires this faculty from its habit of living in burrows is an idea unworthy of the slightest entertainment. The phacochcerus is also in the habit of kneeling, and we have frequently seen the common domestic hog do the same. The masked hog has by many authors been confounded with the phacochcerus; both have hideous heads and wrinkled fleshy lobes on the cheeks, and perhaps their general habits are the same, but the dentition of phacochcerus is ver^' different and peculiar, and the protuberances on the face are not similar in situation. 8. Sos Fasciatos. — In the British Museum is the specimen of a very young wild hog, differing in its markings from the young of the common wild hog, or, as far as can be at present ascertained, of any other species. It is striped, and has a dark mark along the neck and over the withers. In the catalogue of the mammalia of the British Museum it is termed ( provisionally we suppose) s us fascia t us, but granting it the representative of a distinct species, how far the term fasciatus will apply to the adult is very doubtful. The country whence the specimen in question came is unknown. GE>'DS BABIRUSSA. The genus bcdiirussa, F. Cuv.; 2^orcus, Wag- ler; though allied to sus, is distinguished by certain peculiarities, one of which is the upward direction of the alveoli of the upper tusks or canine teeth ; these tusks in the male are enormously developed as to length, and are extraordinary both in their form and position. They do not pass out between the lips as in the hog, but cut through the skin of the snout, so as to appear like horns growing in an unusual situation. Instead of being stout and strong they are slender, and rising vertically cui-ve backwards with a slight indication outwards, so as to form part of a circle, and often touch the skin of the forehead. The tusks of the lower jaw are sharp and powerful, and emerge from between the lips ; they bend upwards and outwards, and are sufficiently formidable weapons. The upper tuslw are wanting in the female, and the lower are small. The incisors are four in number in each jaw. The molars are five on each side, above and below. The first upper molar on each side is a false molar, and the first two below ou each side have tiie same character ; so that the dental formula will stand thus ; — 4 -,„„ 1 — 1 Incisors - canines male, fals 4' 1 — 1 niolai 1-J-, true molars I -i = 34 1. The Babirussa Alfurus, Lesson; Porcus Babirussa, Wagner, Schreh., Sauijet.h. Supp..\v.,]). 301; Sus Babinissa. Linn., Desmarest, and others ; Le Bahyroussa, Buffon ; Le Sanglicr cles Indes Orientales, Brisson. The babirussn is the only known species of the present genus, and though limited in its habitat to the Moluccas and a few other islands of the Indian Archipelago, was apparently known to the ancients. Desmarest regards it as the 2s TerpoKcpas or four-homed hog of ^lian. We may add that the term swine-deer ( xoipe^atpos) was used by Cos- mas, a w'riter in the six'h centuiy, as the designation of an anim:il from India : nnd, as the meaning of the term coincides with the character of Pliny's homed boar, we have some grounds for suspecting that this animal was tlie species intended by each. Piso, in his edition of the Natural and Medical History of the East Indies, by Bontius, remarks that sedulous as Bontius was, be had made no mention of this animal. Piso, however, supplies the deficiency, and gives in the page no very bad figures of the animal and its skull. In the frontis- piece, however, where tbe hahirussa occupies a conspicuous place on the foreground, the painter has evidently had the hog-deer* in bis mind, and has taken a few liberties with the animal's muzzle, aspect, and bearing (though the tusks are tolerably correct), lengthening its neck not a little. The Indians, Piso tells us, ascribe these animals to a union of the hog and the deer. He says they are only found in the island of Booro, thirty miles distant from Amboyna, and adds that the hahirussa is swift and fierce, and that its flesh is highly prized both by natives and foreigners. Specimens of the hahirussa are rare in the museums, and still more rare are living animals in the menageries of Europe. Skulls indeed of the animal are often imported into our country, brought over by vessels trading among the Moluc- cas, or touching at Java and Sumatra, and of these our museums possess numerous specimens. SKULL OF BABIEUSSA. The few opportunities which have thus been afforded to zoologists have rendered their descrip- tions of this animal, until within the last few years, more or less erroneous or defective. For example, in Shaw's General Zoology (1801), the hahirussa is described as being covered not by bristles, but by a fine, short, and somewhat woolly hair of a deep brown or blackish colour, inter- spersed with a few bristles on the upper and hinder part of the back. In a preserved specimen which we had the opportunity some years since of examin- ing, we found that the skin, which was black and Cervua Porcinus, Zii It is a native of India. granulated, was almost utterly destitute of covering, being sparingly beset with very short bristly hairs, not very perceptible even to a bystander, unless he took the trouble to make a somewhat close ex- amination. The skin, moreover, exhibited traces of wrinkles or furrows ; the specimen was that of an adult individual. Lesson, who informs us that he examined many specimens at Sourabaya, in the island of Java, describes the skin as hard, black, wrinkled, or furrowed, and furnished only with a few scattered hairs ; but he says that the general contour of the body is robust and massive, and that the limbs are thick, whereas the specimen in question (making every allowance for the shrink- ing of the skin while in the process of curing) appeared to differ from tbe hog in being less heavily built, in having the bead nai'rower and more acute, and in the limbs being comparatively longer and moi'e slender. Perhaps Lesson took the Papuan hog as his model of comparison. The tail was of moderate length, and tapered to a slender point, and the ears were short, erect, and pointed. Still more recently a young male hahirussa, living in the gardens of the Zoological Society, came under our notice, and enabled us to form a more precise and correct idea of tbe animal than even tbe best preserved specimen could afford. The following are the observations we made : — " This animal is hog-like in figure, and much resembles a small pig of the Chinese breed. It is roundly formed, like a young well-bred hog, and the skin lies close, giving a compactness to its appearance. Tbe head is small, and high between the ears ; the snout is elongated ; the ears are small, erect, and pointed ; the eyes in their form and expression are moi-e deer-like than pig-like ; tbe iris is brown ; the skin, which is thinly clothed with short black bi'istly hairs, is everywhere dotted with small granulations, which spread and become rougher, coarser, and more decided about the limbs and feet, and especially on the anterior part of the head, the sides of the face, and the under jaw. Closely as the skin lies, it becomes thrown into a series of regular and prettily-arranged wrinkles, or furrows, with the different movements of the body, and varying in direction accordingh'. As the animal turns to one side these furrows are trans- verse ; in other attitudes they become more or less oblique ; but none are to be seen when tbe animal stands still, or lies quietly on its straw. The tail is moderate, slender, and tapering ; the limbs are well proportioned, rather slender, but not much longer in relation to the size of the body than in the hog. The tusks of the upper jaw in the present individual are as yet small, but are at the same time curved backwards. " In its state of captivity, this young hahirussa seems as contented as a pig in its sty ; it is not only quiet, but disposed to familiarity, raising itself up on its hind legs and putting its snout to the wooden bars of its pen or enclosure, evidently soliciting food. It turns the straw over and over with its snout, and champs in eating, but utters, t Lesson describes the bahirussa as restless and fierce ill confinement; but. this individual is per- fectly gentle and contented. It is very fond of burying itself beneath the straw, and it generally far as we could learn, no grunt, as does the hog, reposes thus covered over and concealed. It is nor has it the unpleasant smell of the latter, partial to Indian corn. " A male and female bahirussa, brought to France by the Astrolabe, lived for about three years in the menagerie of Paris. Very good figures and a lively description of these individuals have been given by M. F. Cuvier. The female was much younger and more active than the male, which was aged, very fat, and very indolent, spending his life in eating, drinking, and sleeping. The female bred once after her arrival in Europe. When the male retired to rest, she would cover him com- pletely over with litter, and then creep under the straw to him, so that both were concealed from sight. They died of diseased lungs about three years after their arrival. The babinissa is found in the marshy forests of Booro, and other of the Molucca Islands, as Amboyna, etc., and also in Java, where it associates in troops. It is said to feed principally upon maize, and is partial to the water, smmming with the greatest ease, and often crossing narrow straits without difficulty. The female is considerably inferior to the male in size. With respect to the utility of the upper curled tusks in the male — which, from their situation and figure, cannot be employed as weapons — much has been said. It has passed current, on insufficient authority, that they serve the animal as hooks, by means of which, when applied to some low branch, it supports its head while reposing in the dense forest — an explanation evidently suggested by their hook-like shape, and not deduced from personal observation ; for when, as is often the case, the curling tusks press on the forehead, how is it then possible for the animal to hook them on a branch, unless it be so aptly placed and formed as to allow of being threaded through them ? This use of the upper tusks as hooks appeai-s first to have been suggested by Valentyn in his notice of the animal in his History of the East Indies ; and it was from a translation of this which fell into Pennant's hands that, as he himself informs us, he borrowed the following succinct description, in which this strange use of the tusks is detailed. The passage is as follows ; — " Inhabits Booro, a small isle near Amboyna, but neither the continent of Asia nor Africa. What M. Buffon takes for it (in Africa, we suppose) is the Ethiopian boar. They are j sometimes kept tame in the Indian Isles, live in herds, have a very quick scent, feed on herbs and leaves of trees, and never ravage gardens like other swine. Their flesh is well-tasted. When pursued and driven to extremities, rush into the sea, swim very well, and often dive. In the forest, often rest their head by hoolung their upper 400 tusks on some bough. The tusks, from their form, are useless in fight." Why, we may ask, should not the females be enabled to hook up their heads as well as the males ? But we need not insist upon the fallacy of this statement. It has been conjectured that the use of these tusks may consist in protecting the head and the eyes of the animal as it urges its way through dense jungle; but again, it may be asked, why should not the female be similarly defended? We cannot admit the correctness of this conjecture. We regard them as sexual characteristics peculiar to the male, and in the same light as we do the tusks of the horse which are wanting in the mare. In many animals indeed, as we well know, the male is endowed with organs for which no definite use can be assigned, and which are wanting in the female. Such are the huge callosities on the cheeks of the male orang-outang of Borneo. In many instances the males are armed with weapons which are wanting in the female, as among the deer tribe ; but these recurved tusks are not weapons, and cannot be used as such. It is, how- ever, possible that the germs of these tusks may be undeveloped in a small alveolar cavity in the skull of the female habirussa. If so, that their development in the male to so great an extent should occur as a sexual characteristic is only in accordance with a very general law. In the female swine, the tusks, which are truly weapons, are far less developed than in the boar. GENUS PHACOCHCERITS. In general form, aspect, and manners, the ani- mals contained in this genus resemble the hog, and were it not that they exhibit characters in their dentition differing from those of tlie genus sits, they could not, on any feasible grounds, be removed from it. These characters, however, are decisive. The molars, instead of presenting the ordinary structure as in the hog tribe generally, approxi- mate to that displayed by tlie molars of the elephant, being composed of vertical cylinders of enamel, enclosing an osseous deposit, and com- pacted together by critsta jKtrosa. Nor is this all ; they are for a long time destitute of true roots, and therefore continue to grow, advancing in rotation from behind forwards, as in the elephant, the posterior by their development and advance conducing to the expulsion or loss of the anterior. Hence they apparently vary in number. Some writers, as Desmarest, count five on each side above, and four below. Others enumerate only three on each side, above and below. In the skull of the Abyssinian species {PliarocJicervs jEliatii), which we examined, we found four molars on eacli side above, and three below. The first molar above was very minute; the next two were larger, the increase of size being gradual ; but the fourth molar was very long, and narrowed gradually as it proceeded backwards. In the under jaw, the first two molars were small ; the third and last ex- tremely long. As age advances, the smaller anterior molars on both jaws gradually disappear, in consequence of the advance of the last. The anterior molars, it may be observed, are shaped like other molar teeth, and nourished in the same maimer. They have enamelled crowns and true roots. These must die and decay when they have attained their utmost growth, or loosen and fall out, as the alveoli become filled with bony sub- stance ; but it is altogether different with the last compound molar tooth, which rises gradually, and recals to mind the mode of growth, as well as of structure, in the molars of the elephant. The last molar presents three rows of tubercles, disposed longitudinally ; those on the edges are placed opposite to each other, and those in the middle are intermediate to the first. When these tubercles begin to be worn, they present so many discs of enamel, and form as it were three chains of rings ; and when the effects of mastication extend farther, these rings and these discs enlarge, and become more or less irregular. Those on one side unite with those on the other, whilst those in the middle are more or less obliterated. It is always anteriorly that these teeth are first woni ; because there they first begin to rise from the alveolus, pushing before the first molars. They are, moreover, a long time without taking root, and it is only when they cease to push forward, which does not occur till very late, that they terminate in more or less elongated cones, enveloping at their base the dentary capsule, which then divides, and ceases to form a single organ. The canines or tusks of the upper jaw are enormous, and turn upwards, their anterior face being worn by the canines of the low-er jaw. The incisors vary. In one species (PA rtcoc7io?rHS /Ethiopicus) there are none in either jaw ; at least, if any exist in the lower jaw during life, they are not visible, being very minute, and buried in their alveoli beneath the gum. This is only in young animals ; for as age advances they disappear. In the other species from Abyssinia [Phaco- chceius jEliani), there are two well-developed inci- sors above, and six below, of considerable size, and projecting forward. The two central incisors are larger than the lateral. Our illustration shows the upper jaw of Phacochoerus ^Ethiopicus, the lo^^or jaw of Phacochoerus ^EHani, and a last molar tooth, viewed sideways. The other characters of the present genus are as follows : — Eyes small, but little separated from each other, and high on the forehead ; muzzle broad; a coarse cartilaginous wart-like excrescence on each cheek below the eye, and a smaller excrescence 401 TEETH OF PIIACOCerERrS on each side of the muzzle, between the eje and tlie tusks ; cheeks swollen from the enormous development of the base of the zygomatic arches ; and the alveoli of the upper canines form a pro- jection on each side of the muzzle ; ears erect and sharp at the apex ; the additional muzzle-bone, single in the hog, is double ; neck short and maned, as is the ridge of the back. Locality, Africa. ] . The Sooth African Wart-Hog (Phacnchce- rus ^-Ethiopicus ; Siis zEthioijicits, Linn.; Phaco- chcerus African us, Desm. ; Aper Aithiopicus, Pall., Misc., p. 16, t. 2; ALthiupian Hog, Pennant; South African Phacoclmre of some writers ; Vlacke- vark of the Cape colonists ; and Engallo of the natives in Guinea), — The distinguishing characters of this species may be summed up as follows : — Incisors above, none ; below, none, or six most minute, hidden beneath the gum, and deciduous ; head, short ; chafFron, convex. The range of the vlacke-vark, eniJallo, or South African wart-hog, does not appear to be precisely determined. For- merly it existed within the limits of the Cape colony, and still lingers on the frontier districts. If the species be the same, and not Phacochcerns ^'Eliani, it inhabits Guinea, Cape Verd, and the country of Senegal ; but we suspect, from Cuvier's description of the Cape Verd animal, viz. the posses- sion of lower incisors and a more elongated form of the head than in individuals from South Africa, that it is identical with the Abyssinian species ; and, if so, the habitat of the latter extends through Centra] Africa from Abysshiia to Senegal and Guinea. Gmelin termed the Cape Verd animal Sus Africanus, and the South African animal Sus ^Ethiopicus. Now, if the Cape Verd wart-hog and the Abyssinian one are identical, as we sus- pect, the term JEliani must be exchanged for Africanus, and the latter term will merge from being a synonym into its orginal value. It may be, however, that there are three distinct species. Dr. Smith, in his African Zoology, thus describes the South African species : — " Top of the head, the upper part of the neck, and the anterior part of the back, covered with very long and rigid bristles of a black-brown colour ; those on the top of the head diverging like the rays of a circle. On the other parts, the hair is shorter, of a dull brown, slightly inclined to white on the flanks and belly ; tail furnished at the tip with a number of blackish- brown bristles ; elsewhere, nearly naked. Length, from nose to root of tail, about five feet; length of tail, eleven inches. Inhabits the interior of Cape Colony ; rather rare." In the frontier districts, the vlacke-vark is recluse, and seldom ventures to seek food dining the day ; but in more remote parts of the country, inhabited by natives destitute of the efficient arms of the colonists, it is less apprehensive, and far more abundant, and is to be met with at all times. It roams abroad, however, more particularly, late in the evening, during night, if it be moonlight, and early in the morning. When disturbed in its retreats, and especially when hunted, the vlacke- vark is a very dangerous animal, and strikes with its tusks, which are dreadful weapons ; it has been known to cut, with one stroke, completely through the fleshy part of a man's thigh. We learn that though this animal is used as food by the colonists, the Hottentots, and the Bechuanas, it is rejected by the Coast Caffres, who are much more particular as to what they eat than any other natives of South Africa, and consider as an inferior class persons who consume as food the articles wliich they hold as prohibited. In his second voyage into the interior of Africa, Le Vaillant stales, that in one of his huntings he killed a monstrous boar, absolutely different from all known hogs. The snout, instead of being of the usual form, was very wide and 402 square : the eyes were seated high on the forehead. but little separated from each other, and small ; on each side, upon the cheek, a cartilaginous and very thick skin, or lobe, three inches in height, and as much in diameter, elevated itself horizon- tally. " At the first glance," he observes, " these excrescences may be taken for the ears of the animal, and this the rather, because the ears, which are applied against the very short neck, are partially hidden in an enormous mane, the rusty- brown and grayish bristles of which are sixteen inches long upon the shoulders ; directly below these lobes may be remarked a bony protuberance, projecting more than an inch. It has, besides, four tusks of the nature of ivory, two in each jaw. The upper tusks, from seven to eight inches long, are very thick at their origin, and terminate in an obscure point ; they are furrowed, and rise into the air from the lips ; those of the lower jaw are much smaller, and so applied against the large ones that when the mouth is shut, one would take them as constituting a single tusk on each side." The head of this boar is truly hideous, and, at the first view, one finds striking analogies and resemblances in it to that of the hippopotamus, which is hardly less frightful. Le Vaillant then cautions those systematic naturalists who have been accustomed to view nature only according to rules which they have established, against regarding this animal merely as a wild hog ; " for," as he observes, " besides its large heavy snout, it wants incisors in both jaws, and notwithstanding its wide-spread muzzle, it turns up the earth to seek for roots on which it feeds. It is very fleet, though very stout and large, and goes so fast that the Hottentots call it the runner."* The vlacke-vark, or engallo, ■was well described many years ago by Allamand, Pallas, and Vosmaer, from personal observations upon two living specimens at the Hague, which were procured within 200 leagues of the Cape of Good Hope, and sent as presents from M. Tulbagh, the governor of that colony, to the Prince of Orange ; the first of these, which had been cap- tured in 1765, in an adult state, having its upper tusks protruding seven inches from the mouth, soon became e.xcessively savage and unmanageable, and actually tore to pieces a domestic sow, which was introduced into his place of confinement in the hope of procuring a cross-breed, and also similarly injured a second under the same circumstances. At length he took off'ence at one of his keepers, whose thigh he severely lacerated. It was then found necessary to circumscribe the limits of his cage, after which he did not survive above a twelve- month. On the voyage from the Cape, however, he was more easily managed, and, indeed, became * The colonists term it hartlooper, or courser, according to Vosmaer, a term which Spannan comments upon in ' ' the bosch-vark, and to which we have previously alluded partially domesticated by the sailors ; yet, even those most accustomed to him were occasionally subject to his attack. With strangers he never off"ered to become familiar, and, on their approach, would retreat slowly backwards, keeping guard in front wth his formidable tusks. One day, during his residence at the Hague, he contrived to tear up a number of the paving bricks of his yard, and before the return of his attendant, who had been absent only a few minutes, he had made a very large excavation in the earth, with the view, it was supposed, of reaching a sewer below. This cir- cumstance sufficiently testified the use and power of his tusks. So strong and so stubbornly intent was he in this design, that it was not without the greatest difficulty, and the united efforts of sevei'al men, that he was forced from the spot. The other animal, sent from the Cape in 1766, was much younger than the former, having tusks only two inches in length. He evinced much more mildness and docility of disposition, and would express the pleasure he felt at being per- mitted to enjoy his liberty, as he was occasionally, by bounding, frisking, and running after other animals, displaying in his gambols much greater activity than is ever exhibited by the common hog ; while running, he invariably carried his tail in an erect position. These boars were fed upon grain and roots, and were particulai-ly fond of barley, wheat, and bread made of lye. Their senses of smelling and hear- ing appeared to be extremely acute, but the sphere of vision was impeded by the lobes on the cheeks. 2. The Abyssinian Wart-Hog, Hahuja or Halluf (Phacochcerus ^Eliani, Riippell). This species is distinguished by the presence of strong incisor teeth, two in the upper jaw, sLx in the lower. The head is elongated, and the chaffrou concave. PHACOCHfERf In Phacochcenis JEliani the skin is of an earthy colour and scantily bristled. A mane, which ex- tends along the back, rises between the ears, and the single hairs of it are frequently ten inches long. All the bristles, those of the mane in- cluded, are of a light brown. They have not each THE HOG. a separate root, but three or six bristles form a tuft, having one common root. The whole body, with the exception of the back, appears rather bare. The head is broad along the brow, which is some- what depressed ; the eyes are small and situated very high up, and there is a depression below them ; near them is a wart, which, as compared with a smaller one alongside the cheek, may be called the larger wart. These wai'ts are formed of thickened skinny tissue, and are smaller than in the species from the Cape. A whisker of white hair, curling upwards, runs along the lower edge of the under jaw. The eyelashes are blackish, the eyebrow bristles long and black, and under the eyes is a tuft of bristles. The ears are cut obliquely at the lower part of their external edge, and the whole margin is bordered by white bristly hair. The tail is nearly bare, thin, and tufted with hair. On the fore-feet is a space of thick, hard, protuberant skin, on which the animal kneels. This species was first observed by M. Riippell, in Kordofan, but he afterwards met with it in greater abundance on the eastern slope of Abys- sinia. According to this traveller it haunts tracts of brushwood and forests, and creeps on its bent fore-feet in quest of food. In this posture it digs up the roots of plants with its enormous canine teeth, and proceeds, in this posture, pushing its body forwards by means of its hind limbs, and ploughing up the ground as it goes. We have already expressed our suspicions that the species from Guinea and Cape Verd is iden- tical with the Abyssinian animal ; a suspicion justified by the characters of the Cape Yerd hog, which we find to be those of Phacochcerus JEUani, namely, the presence of incisors, and the elonga- tion of the head, the extension of the upper jaw beyond the lower, the more pointed and narrow form of the ears, the slender tufted tail, and the palish- bro\^'n colour of the integuments. (See Buffon, Hist. Nat., tome xv., p. 148 ; tome xiv., p. 409 ; Sup2d., tome iii., p. 11 — article Sanglier du Cap- vert. Cuvier's Regne Animal, vol. i., p. 1244. The Cape Verd wart-hog is the enujalo or engallo of Barbot {Guinea, p. 487), and the sm angalla of Boddaert. GENUS DICOTTLES. The genus Bicotyhs is peculiar to Mexico and South America, and there represents the Suidce of the Old World ; occupying, in the forests of Guiana, Paraguay, &c., the situation of the wild hogs of Europe and Asia. The peccaries (Les Pecaris) were first separated from the genus Sus by Cuvier, who established the genus Dicotyles for their reception. The propriety of their separation cannot be ques- tioned. These animals, indeed, in their general contour, in their clothing of stiff harsh bristles, in their gait, their grant, and habits of rooting in the earth with their snout, resemble the hog. Like the hog, they erect the bristles of their neck and clash their teeth when angry. They are also capable of domestication, and become extremely familiar; and, indeed, so strong is the similarity between them and the former animal, that it can- not surprise us to find all zoologists, from Lin- naeus to Geoffrey and Illiger, assigning them a place under the genus Sus. Yet they exhibit many ditferential peculiarities. Their dentition differs from that of the hog ; the incisors of the upper jaw are four instead of six ; the molars are six on each side in each jaw ; and the tusks, which are of small size compared with those of the hog, in- stead of projecting with an upward curve from the sides of the mouth, have the ordinary direction ; those of the upper jaw point downwards, those of the lower jaw upwards. They are sharp and effective weapons, adapted for biting rather than striking, but far less formidable than those of the wild boar. Thelimbs again are different : not only are they more slender, shorter, and more delicately turned than those of the hog, but there are only three toes on the hinder feet, the outer toe being want- ing ; nor is this all : the metacarpal and metatarsal bones of the two middle toes of each foot are con- solidated together so as to form a canon-bone. The stomach, moreover, is divided into various pouches or sacculi. The tail is wanting; or reduced to a mere tubercle ; and a large glandular appai-atus beneath the skin, on the loins, pours out from an orifice a secretion of disgusting odour. We may observe, in addition, that the muzzle is acute, the head rather large, and the eyes small but lively. Two species only are known; but Linnaeus was either acquainted with only one species, or he confounded the two together under the name of Sus Tajassu. It is to Azara that the clear discri- mination of the two species is originally due. These two species differ indeed from each other not a little in size and markings, and, to a certain ex- tent, also in habits ; yet, after all, not so much so as to have prevented the impression on M. De la Borde that they were nothing more than distinct herds or races of one species. Buffon describes only one species, which he terms pecari or tajacu, and which, as the description and two very good figures prove, is the collared peccai-y or taytetou of Azara; but Buffon, in the course of his de- scription, alludes to a dark-coloured wild or maroon hog, " cocJion maron," which he regards as the common hog, emancipated from domestication. He observes, for instance, that " the species of peccary has continued unaltered, and has not in- termingled with that of the ' cochon maron,'' for it is thus that they call the hog of Europe trans- 404 THE HOG. ported to and become wild in America. These animals meet together in the woods, and even go in company without any farther results." But is this " cochon maron" of Buffon the emanci- pated hog of Europe ? We incline to the opinion of Azara, who regards it as the white-lipped peccary or tagnicati, and which exceeds the collared species in size. Not aware that there were two species of peccary, Buffon, who had heard of troops of wild pig-like animals differing from the collared peccary, jumped to the conclusion that they were nothing more than feral swine. Hence the error. "The hogs," says Azara, " which Buffun be- lieved to be the descendants of those transported by the Spaniards, are not hogs but tagnicatis, since the characters which he indicates related exactly to these latter animals, namely, their wild existence in America, and the dark colour, a form of body more lumpy, the head thicker, and the hair coarser than in the domestic hog." It is this white-lipped species which is described by Sonnini, ■who states that in G uiana it is exclusively termed peccary. But Azara observes, the Guarani Indians give indifferently the names of coure or tayazou to two animals of their country, and also to the domestic hog; but nevertheless they do not cease to impose upon the two indigenous species of the country the respective names of tagnicati and taytetou, while they distinguish the hog derived from Europe by that of cochi, appa- rently a corniption of the word cochon, and equi- valent to it in meaning. Hence it would appear that the terms coure and tayazou or tajazou (sometimes written tajaru), have a general rather than a restricted and specific signification. These three animals, says Azara, namely, the hog and the two species of peccary, " resemble each other both in external form, in the manner of walking, and in their taste for the same kind of food ; inasmuch as they root in the ground, eat and drink in the same mode, erect their bristles in anger or terror, respire energetically, and grunt on being irritated." Azara goes on to say, " The two indigenous species of Paraguay, when taken young, are domesticated with more facility than the wild hog ; they go about at liberty, and follow persons soliciting to be scratched, so that in a short space of time, and with no trouble, they are reduced to complete subjection. It is said, and I believe it, that their flesh is good, but that it is not so fat as that of the hog. This is not to be wondered at, first, because they are not properly fed to become fat; secondly, because they are always covered with an infinite multitude of ticks, which abomid in the woods." One thing, we may add, is requi- site when tlie peccary is killed for food ; namely, the immediate removal of the lumbar glaml ; for if this be not done, the flesh acquires a bad odour and taste. Nevertheless, the Indians eat it with- out this precaution. To some persons, indeed, the scent of this gland is even agreeable ; but to most it is insufferably disgusting. The number of young produced by the female at a birth is only two. 1. The White-lipped Peccary, on Tagni- cati (Dico^j/Zes labiatus, Cuv. ; Dicotijles albirostris, lUiger). This species, which exceeds the collared pec- cary in size, is eminently gregarious in its habits, associating in bands of many hundreds, which traverse the country in quest of food. These troops are headed by a leader, whose course they follow. Nothing impedes them ; they force their passage through the densest thickets, and cross rivers, however broad or deep, with the utmost facflity. Should the cultivated lands of a coloni;d settler lie in their way, they completely devastate every field capable of affording them food ; they plough up the ground in search of roots ; thfy trample down and devour the corn; they destroy the enclosures, and leave a scene of destruction behind them. Nor is it safe to attack one of these hordes, unless indeed the means of instant escape are at hand ; for when united in a common cause tliese animals are both prompt and resolute. They erect their bristles, make a loud clattering with their teeth, and rush upon their assailant ; who, if he escape not by mounting a tree, or gaining some spot inaccessible to them, is immediately surrounded, thrown down, and torn to pieces. The fierce and powerful jaguar or the puma dare not, it is said, attack a troop thus united, though they often seize upon an unwary straggler ere the main body can arrive to tie rescue. Azara says, that w hile the troop is pursuing its route, should one of the number hear any suspicious noise, " he gives notice of it by clattering his teeth, which is re- peated by all the rest, who stop to investigate the matter. If they find that no danger threateus them, they continue their march without attempting any injury, as I myself have often experienced. But if they are attacked they unite and surround the man, the dog, or the jaguar, commencing the assault, and tear him to pieces if he do not mount a tree, or if he have not the good fortune to kill the chief or leader, for on this event they all take flight, which is not the case should num- bers fall and the leader be safe." " It is said that the jaguar follows the troops of the tagnicati in silence, and then, seizing a favourable moment, he darts upon one of the hindmost, laying him prostrate in an instant. He then climbs a tree, whence he descends after a certain interval, and when all the troop has retired, to make his meal upon the carcase." In Guiana, Sonnini was often surrounded by a herd of peccaries, exasperated at the havoc made among them by the guns of himself and his com- panioiis. Safe from tlieir raof, in a tree, the tra- veller at liis ease beheld their conduct : they encouraged their wounded companions by grunts, and by rubbing their snouts together, still per- severingly maintaining their ground with bristles erect and eyes firing with rage. They would often stand an mcessunt fusillade of two or three hours, before they would quit the battle-field and leave their dead to the conquerors. Such encounters supplied the travellers with the means of making a grand feast. A great gridiron, so to speak, of sticks fixed in the ground, some three feet in height, with numerous small branches laid on it in a transverse direction, formed a convenient cooking apparatus. On this were placed the pieces of pec^ary-pork, and broiled over a slow fire kept up during the night. On these forest feasts Sonnini descants with enthusiasm, and looks buck with regret. M. Schomburgk, on his account of an ascent up the river Berbice, gives the following narrative of an encounter with these animals, which he calls knirotinies : — " While the men were employed in cutting through a large mora tree, information was brought that a herd of kairounies, the large peccary or Indian hog, was feeding at a short distance from the river ; all our guns were imme- diately put in requisition, and off we started, Acouritch the Carib, armed with bows and iron- headed arrows, in the van. I first came up with them, and found them in a pool of water, where they wallowed in the mire like our domestic hog; one appeared to stand watch while the I'est enjoyed the muddy hath, the young ones of various sizes keeping in the middle. When I was at a distance of fifteen yards, the sentinel observed mc, the bristles of the back arose, and it turned toward me chattering formidably with his teeth ; in the next moment it lay prostrate in the mud pierced by a rifie ball ; but how can I describe the bustle, the rush, and the chattering of the tusks of upwards of two hundred, which immediately afterwards were seen to seek security by a rapid flight in the opposite direction. An Indian, who had come up by this time, fired after them and shot another, and the retreat was now perfect. I had loaded again, but hesitated a moment to wade through the swamp ; the Arawaak Mathias requested me to give him my rifle and ammunition, and off he started with it. I heard him fire four or five shots shortly after at some distance on my right, and while yet calculating how many of them might have told. I heard a rushing noise, like a whirl- wind, approaching through the bushes : the pecu- liar growl, and that awful clapping of the teeth, did not leave me long in doubt as to its cause. It was evident the herd had divided and were coming directly towards me. I stood alone, unarmed, and had not even a knife to defend mvself. I know not yet how I clitnhed the lower part of a mora tree, when by they rushed, tiieir muzzles almost sweeping the ground, and their rough bristles on the back standing erect : they might have num- bered fifty. They came and passed like a whirl- wind ; and, before I had recovered from my astonishment, I heard them plunge into the river and swim over to the opposite bank. The other hunters had not been so fortunate as I expected ; excitement or fear made them miss where it would have appeared almost impossible. Three, in- cluding the one I had shot, had been killed with guns, and one with an arrow ; they were a most welcome addition to our stock, as we were already obliged to economize, and our endeavours to pro- cure fish had not been successful." " The cry of the kairounie, when full grown, is a grunt, but that of the younger ones resembles the bleating of a goat." Among the native names of this species may be enumerated paquim, whence our word peccary. or pecari in French ; apida and tirii/ua (Hum- boldt). The white-lipped peccaiy is not only taller, but is more robust in its proportions than the collared species ; its head is larger, the snout longer, and the nasal disc or button more exj^anded at the sides. Its limbs are stouter, and the canine teeth are more developed. It often measures three feet and a half in length, and weighs a hundred pounds. The general colour is black slightly grizzled, the bristles around the ears are long and full, as is also the mane along the neck and back. The sides of the upper jaw and the whole of the under jaw are white, whence its Paraguay name of tagnicati, which, according to Azara, signifies white-jaw. The female breeds only once a-year, and produces two at a birth. In the young the livery has a striped appearance much as we see it in the young of the wild hog, but the stripes soon begin to disappear, and after a year are altogether lost. Cuvier considers this species both as the taytetou as well as the tagnicati of Azara, but this is not correct ; the former title belongs to the collared species. The white-liiiped peccary is a native of Guiana and Paraguay. '2. The Collared Peccary {Dicotyles torqua- tus, Cuvier). — This species is the taytetou of Azara, and the jMtira of Sonnini. It is the quauhtla coyinatl, quapizotl, and aper Mexicanm of Hernandez, and the taiaqu of Piso. It is a native of Mexico, Guiana, Paraguay, &c. This species differs in its habits from the preceding, inasmuch as it is far less gregarious ; instead of herding in large troops, which perform a sort of migratory march over extensive tracts of country, it lives only in pairs or in small families, which seldom stray far from their fixed abode in the dense forest, and feed upon roots and other vegetable aliment, to 406 which fish and reptiles are occasionally added. It is said that they are dexterous in skinning snakes and lizards before devouring them, and that they destroy the most poisonous with singular adroit- ness. Occasionally they make inroads on the adjacent cultivated fields, and are reported to be partial to sugar-canes, potatoes, and maize. The female breeds once a-year, producing, like the former, two at a birth, and she defends her young with great courage and pertinacity. These animals conceal themselves and their young in hollows at the roots of large aged trees, in holes in the ground, and caves of any kind capable of aff'ording them concealment. There is little to fear from the collared peccary, for though not destitute of spirit, and capable of defending itself if attacked, it has not the aid of collected hundreds, the onset of which in the case of the white-lipped species is so much to be dreaded. It derives no support and no confidence from numbers ; hence it avoids its enemies, and trusts to flight and concealment, unless forced to act upon the defensive in its extremity. Setting aside man, the jaguar is its most formidable foe, and numbers fall victims to this rapacious beast of prey. The collared peccary has been bred in a state of domestication in South America and the West Indies, and might, no doubt, be early acclimatized as tenant of the sty in Europe. The same obser- vation will apply to the former species. We have seen both animals in the menagerie of the Zoological Society as familiar, or nearly so, as the ordinaij hog. But then, granting their flesh available, their peculiarly disgusting odour would militate against their general introduction ; indeed it must not be supposed that they are to be regarded, in any sense, as rivals of the hog. In the first place, they will not fatten like the hog, nor will they yield meat of such quality, whether for dressing fresh, for pickling, or for bacon. In the next place, they produce only two at a birth, and that only once a-year ; so that, granting their lumbar gland was absent, and that they equalled the hog in excellence of flesh, they could never compete with that fertile tenant of the sty. Piso, indeed, praises the flesh of the peccary, and Son- nini relished it ; but, as Mr. Bennett observes, " although we may readily imagine that, under the circumstances in which he (Sonnini) partook of these animals, they must have been an exquisite treat, it does not follow as a necessary consequence that in other places and at other times he might have been so well disposed to relish these delica- cies of the forest." The white-lipped and the collared peccary are, as we have said, confounded together by the older writers, and among them by Buffon, who commits several errors in his description — a description, as regards the markings and the general characters of the animals, applicable rather to the white- lipped than to the collared species. But, setting aside this confusion, he commits two glaring mis- takes, which we cannot omit to notice. In the first place, he says — " These animals occupy, in their native country, rather the mountains than the lowlands ; they do not affect morasses and mire, as do our wild boars." Now the fact is, that they do inhabit lowlands, and they also delight in the mud-bath. Azara makes the following com- ment on this statement : — " Buffon adds that the peccary prefers the mountains to the valleys, because he is ignorant that here (viz., in Paraguay) by the term mountains are not meant heights or Cordilleras, but immense forests, which both species of peccary affect, whether in valleys, or plains, or on elevations." In the second place, Buffon states that the peccary " brings forth a numerous litter, and that probably more than once a-year." Here he made an assertion, trusting to analogy, which deceived him ; he thought that because the hog was fertile, the peccary must be so ; but, as we have said, the peccary breeds only once a-year, and produces only two young ones at each birth. The odour of the collared peccary is very dis- gusting ; but it most probably differs in intensity at different seasons of the year. Certain it is, that we have perceived it less on some occasions than on others ; — nevertheless, we cannot agree with Azara in regarding it as "musky, sweet, and agree- able." It is, however, as Azara observes, very probable that the lumbar gland may exhale different odours, according to the food of the animal, its state of irritation, and other circumstances. The collared peccary measures about three feet in length, and seldom weighs more than fifty pounds. " Its general colour is yellowish-gray, resulting from the manner in which the bristles are marked by alternate rings of grayish straw- colour and black. A row of long bristles extends backwards from between the ears, forming a some- what erectile mane on the back of the neck, the bristles becoming gradually longer as they approach the tail. The face is more grizzled with yellow than any other part, with the exception of a narrow oblique line of yellow-pointed hairs, which passes from behind the shoulders to the fore part of the neck, and from which the specific name of the animal is derived. The colour of the legs, as well as of the hoofs, is nearly black. The ears are small, upright, nearly naked, and of a grayish colour. On the legs and muzzle the hairs are extremely short. During the first year, the young present a uniform tinge of reddish-brown. Among the fossil forms of extinct pachyder- mata, that which appears most immediately to ap- proach the peccaries is the chceropotamus Cnvieri (Owen). This animal, the remains of which occur, as we have said, in the gypsum of Montmartre 407' and ill the eocene marls of the Isle of Wight, must, as Professor Owen observes, Lave closely resembled the peccaries of America, but was about one-third larger ; and, as he adds, it is a singular fact, that " the living sub-genus of the hog tribe, which most resembles the chcero2Mtaim(s, should be confined to tlie South American continent, where the llama and tapir, the nearest living analogues of the anoplolherian and palceotherian associates of the choeropotamus, now exist, and which was formerly inhabited by a genus ma- chrauclienia, which connects the llama with the palseothere." — Hist, of Brit. Foss. Mamm. and Birds. We may here observe that of three living species of tapir, two are natives of South America, and one is peculiar to Malacca and the island of Sumatra. lu the British Museum are fossil or semi- fossilized remains of the peccary from caverns in South America. We do not pretend to assign to them an early date, yet the fact is not destitute of interest, the rather as fossilized and semi-fossilized bones of the wild hog occur in the turbaries or peat bogs, and in the caves of Europe. To these we shall refer hereafter. Here, then, we close our sketch of the family sttidce, or, in other words, of the Hog tribe, as far, at least, as those species are concerned which do not immediately bear upon our present subject. In looking over our list, we find that Asia is the richest in species. Europe can boast of one only, and that not confiued to its boundaries, but com- mon also to Asia ; Africa contains three known indigenous species, probably more ; America only two. The total number of species amounts to twelve, divided into four genera, or, as some regard them, merely sub-genera, or sections of the Linnaean genus sus. Two circumstances are here worthy of notice : first, no genus, or, if the term be preferred, no family, among the pachydermata contains such numerous living species as si:s ; secondly, no family or genus among the pachvder- mata is so extensively spread. We are nut, of course, alluding to domestic animals, as the horse and ass. It is to wild races alone that we refer, and, consequently, to their natural geographical distribution. The present pachydermata, indeed, are but the lingering relics of an order once abounding in species which were, many of them at least, most extensively diffused. Fossil relics of elephants, of mastodons, of equine animals, of hippopotami, of rhinoceroses, are spread over Europe and Asia, from the polar regions to the most southern latitudes. They attest the extent of territory once occupied by races of pachyderms, where now not one living form exists, excepting, perhaps, the wild hog. The limits of the few exist- ing pachydermata are comparatively restricted. Of two species of elephant (a genus which once contained numerous species common in Europe and in our island, if then insular), one is re- stricted to the warm parts of Asia, the other to Africa. About six species of rhinoceros are known, and of these some are African, the others belong to India and its islands. The hippopotamus, of which a huge species once revelled in our waters, is confined exclusively to Africa. Of three species of tapir, two are South American, the other a native of Malacca and Sumatra. The genus eqmis is divided between Africa and Asia. Still greater, if possible, has the change been in the American continent. Its herds of masto- dons, its toxodons, its indigenous equine animals, have all passed away, and four species alone, set- ting aside what man has recently introduced, represent the mighty pachyderms which once roamed the plains and forests of America. These four consist of two tapirs and two peccaries. Looking at Europe exclusively, elephants, mastodons, paloeotheria, hippopotami, rhinoceroses, anoplotheria, hyracotheria, dinotheria, choeropo- tami, equine animals, and others, have departed, and left only their relics to attest their former occupation of our quarter of the globe. Europe now possesses only one indigenous pachyderm, the wild hog. To this animal let us now devote a more particular attention, commencing a distinct chapter. CHAPTER II. THE WILD HOG. That the wild hog is the source of our ordinary domestic race cannot be disputed ; and as little can we doubt its extreme antiquity. The hog has survived changes which have swept multitudes of pachydermatous animals from the surface of our earth. It still maintains an independent exist- ence in Europe, and presents the same characters, both physical and moral, which the earliest writers, whether sacred or profane, have faithfully deli- neated. The domestic stock has indeed been more or less modified by long culture, but the wild species remains unaltered, insomuch that the fossil relics of its primitive ancestors may be identified by comparison with the bones of their descendants. 408 T!If; hog. The fossil relics of the genus sus have been found in the miocene and also iu the pliocene deposits of the tertiary system of Lyell. Kaup, for example, has described fossil bones of the genus sus from tlie mioceue Eppelsheira sand, in which they were associated with tliose of the mastodon and dino- therium ; and MM. Croizet and Jobert, in their account of the fossils of Auvergne, describe and iigare the fossil bones of a species of hog, which, as was satisfectorily pi'oved, must have lived co- existent with and on the same locality as extinct elephants and mastodons. According to these geologists, the facial part of the fossil hog dis- covered by them is relatively shorter than in the existhig species ; hence, under the supposition that their fossil animal might have been distinct, they conferred upon it the title of aper (sus) Avernensi's. How far this distinctiveness is real, yet remains to be seen ; at all events. Professor Owen, in his valuable work on British fossil mammalia, places the sus Avernensis, with a query, as one of the synonyms of the cochon fossile of Cuvier, sus scrqfa fossilis of Von Meyer (Palaologica, p. 80), sus prisciis of Goldfuss (Nova Acta Acad. Nat. Car., t. xi., pt. 2, p. 482), the fossil hog of Dr. Buckland, and the sus scrofa, Owen, in Report of British Association, 1843, "p. 228. With reference to the fossil remains of the hog. Professor Owen thus writes: — " When Cuvier communicated his memoir on the fossil bones of the hog to the French Academy, in 1809, he had met with no specimens from formations less reciMi' t'lan the mosses, or turbaries and peat-bogs, and knew not that they had been found in the drift associated with the bones of elephants. He repeats this observation hi the edition of the Ossemens Fossiles, in 1822 ; but in the additions to the last volume published in 1825, Cuvier cites the discovery by M. Bourdet de la Nievre of a fossil jaw of a sus, on the east bank of the lake of Neufchatel, and a fragment of the upper jaw from the cavern at Sandwich, described by Professor Goldfuss. Dr. Buckland includes the molar teeth and a large tusk of a boar found in the cave of Hutton, in the Mendip hills, with the true fossils of that re- ceptacle, such as the remains of the mammoth, Speloean bear, &c. With respect to cave-bones, however, it is sometimes difficult to produce con- viction as to the contemporaneity of extinct and recent species." This observation applies merely to cave-bones, and not to such as are imbedded in deposits with other remains. The oldest fossil remains of the hog, from British strata, which Professor Owen states that he has examined, were from fissures in the red crag (probably miocene of Newbourne, near Wood- bridge, Suffolk) : — '• They were associated with teeth of an extinct /eZis, about the size of a leopard, with those of a bear, and with remains of a large cervus. These mammalian remains were found with the ordinary fossils of the red crag ; they had undergone the same process of tituration, and were impregnated with the same colouring matter, as the associated bones and teeth of fishes, acknow- ledged to be derived fn^ra the regular strata of the red crag. These manimaliferous beds have been m% proved by Mr. Lyell to be older than the fluvio- mariiie, or Norwich crag, in which remains of the mastodon, rhinoceros, and horse have been dis- covered ; and still older than tlie fresh-water pleistocene deposits, from which the remains of the mammoth, rhinoceros, &c., are obtained in such abundance." To this the Professor adds: — "I have met with some satisfactory instances of the association of fossil remains of a species of hog with those of the mammoth, in the newer pliocene fresh-water formations of England." The most usual situations, how'ever, in which the fossilized bones of the hog are met with, are in peat-bogs, often at the depth of many feet, and in association with the remains of the wolf, the beaver, the roebuck, and a gigantic red-deer ; generally they underlie the bed of peat, and rest on shell-marl or alluvium. Of the identity of these bones with those of the ordinary wild hog all doubt has-been removed by the most rigorous comparisons : never- theless, we do not assert that no other species of sus may not have aniiently existed, which, like the mammoth and the mastodon, has become ex- tinct ; we mean only to say that the bones of the sits scrofa are among the fossil remains of our island and the continent of Europe. Professor Owen gives an excellent figure of the fossil skull of a wild boar, from drift in a fissure of the free- stone quarries in the Isle of Portland. It were useless to ask how it is that while the mammoth and the mastodon, the urus, the huge red-deer, the gigantic cervus megaceros, hyaenas, enormous bears, and powerful feline animals, have perished in times geologically recent, the wild hog continued its race. We cannot solve the mystery. It has escaped the fate of these animals— its con- temporaries—whatever might have been the causes of their aimihilation, and though no longer a tenant of our island, it is spread throughout a great portion of Europe and Asia. We say the wild boar is no longer a tenant of our island ; but its extirpation is only of a recent date. Formerly it roamed our forests, and made its lair in their secluded fastnesses ; but our ancient forests are cleared, the tracts of swamp which they enclosed are drained, and their grim inhabitants have passed away. Several dis- tricts, it is true, retain the name of " forest," and a few, perhaps, exhibit some traces of their primitive condition ; but of others we may truly speak in the language of the poet: — \M 1 \ 1 ■i H ! l;:')l f. .; I ^\hl 1 Itonl n 1 thoin. «o ru J a ■sofhis,,,, b c h s . gray ana Waved in each breeze a sap'ing liongh ; WouM he could trll how deep the shade A thousantl minified liranches made ; Hon- Lroad llic shadows of the oak, Hoiv clini!,' the n.wan to the rock, And Ihnmgh the foliage showed his head, With n.iriou leaves and hemes red ;— Wha Wi aide Jng, say. •Here in mv ^i, , 'Themighiv i .-.'.' 1 v, The vxoirrvc -' .^ I : :iuc— (Thencighboi;!,,,, ..,>...■ i- ,i, 1. is name)— With lurching si,)., .uuuu.i uic i.roul, The mountain hoar, on battle se', His tusks upon my st m has whet ; While doe, and roe, and red-deer good Have bi.unded by through gay greenwood.''"' — Scott. Mr. Bell, in his interesting work on British Quadrupeds, notices the fact that the boar was among, the beasts of venerie protected by royal edicts. "About the year 940," he writes, "the laws of Hoel Dda direct that it shall be lawful for the chief of his huntsmen to chase the boar of the woods from the fifth of the Ides of November ( 9th) until the Calends of December ( 1st).— Cap. XXL, sect 14. In the next century the numbers had perhaps begun to diminish, since a forest law of William I., established in a.d. 1087, ordained that any who were found guilty of killing the stag, the roebuck', or the wild boar, should have then- eyes put out; and sometimes the penalty appears to have been a painful death." We do not think that as early as the time of William the. Conqueror the wild boar had begun to be scarce, for wo attiibute such laws to the feelings and disposition of haughty chiefs or monarclis, who regarded all beasts of chase as formed exclusively for their own pleasure ; hence the severe and arbitrary laws laid down respecting them. The following quotation from Jacob's Law Dictionary (fol. Loml., 1732), in the article Forest Laws, briefly exhibits the regulations with respect to the seasons for hunting, established' after the Conquest: — " Beasts of forest are, the hart, hind, buck, doe» I boar, wolf, fox, hare, &c ; the seasons for hunting 1 whereof are as follows, viz. — that of the hart and buck begins at the Feast of St. John the Baptist j and ends at Holyrood Day : of the hind and doe, begins at Hoi vrood and continues till Candlemas; of die boar, from Christmas to Candlemas ; of the fox, begins at Christmas and continues till Lady- day ; of the hare, at Michaelmas and lasts till Candlemas." During the Saxon dominion in our island, the wild boar apjiears to have Nlujunded. Among the Cottonian MSS. is preserved a rude pahiting, copied by Strutt, of a Saxon chieftain and his huntsmen pursuing wild swine in a forest, and this ]uciure is alleged to have been executed in the ninth century. 410 THE HOG. Sharon Turner, in his History of the Anglo- Saxons, observes that " among the drawings in the Saxon Calendar in the Cottonian Library (tab. 6, 4) the month of September represents a boar- hunt. A wood appears containing boars; a man is on foot with a spear; another appears with a horn slung and applied to his mouth; he has also a spear, and dogs are following." In the Saxon Dialogues we have this conversation on hunting : — " ' I am a hunter to one of the kings.' ' How do you exercise your art?' 'I spread my nets and set them in a fit place, and instruct my hounds to pursue the wild deer, till they come to the nets unexpectedly and so are entangled, and I slay them in the nets.' ' Cannot you hunt without nets?' 'Yes, with swift hounds I follow the wild deer.' 'What wild deer do you chiefly take?' ' Harts, hoars, and fallow deer (rava), and goats, and sometimes hares.' 'Did you hunt to day?' 'No, because it was Sunday, but yesterday I did. 1 took two harts and one boar.' 'How?' 'The harts in the nets; the boar I slew.' 'How dared you slay him?' 'The hounds drove him to me, and I standing opposite slew him.' 'You were bold.' 'A hunter should not be fearful.' " Whitaker, in his History of Manchester, observes that "the face of the island at this period was everywhere tufted with woods, and some particu- lar districts of it were covered with immense forests. Three of these were distinguished over the rest, by the wild extensiveness of their range. One was in Scotland, and lined all the hills in the central parts of the highlands. Another was the Great Forest of the Coritani, which contained several towns and the seat of a whole nation within it ; and straggled over the five counties of Lincoln, Nottingham, Derby, Leicester, and Rutland, and even such parts of Northamptonshire as lie to the north of the river Nen. But the third was still larger than either, and swept across the south of the island for a hundred and fifty miles together, ranging even from Kent into Somersetshire. These necessarily remained the secure harbours and great nurseries of the many wild beasts which were then produced in the country. In this appearance of the country the spirit of hunting which actuated the pri- meval Britons, would be kept alive in the Romans by the nearly equal frequency of the game in the woods, and the nearly equal necessity of prevent- ing its increase upon them. The boar roved at liberty over the woods of the parish, for many centuries after the Roman departure from the sta- tion; and consigned the apj)ellation of Barlow, or the Boar-ground, to a district in the south-westerly parts of it, and retained its haunts in the wilds of Blakely till within these three or four ages." Thus, then, the wild boar pnssed llirough the British, Roman, and Saxon periods of our once forest-island, and was not uncommon long after the Norman Conquest. Of course its territories became gradually straitened and circumscribed. So it was with the feral ox, of which the relics still exist in Chillingham park, and in the parks of Chatelherault and Lyme, though for this fine animal a better fate was reserved. However, we learn from Fitzstephen, in the reign of Henry II., that in the twelfth centui-y the forest stretching northwards of London, abounded in boars and other wild animals, among which he enumerates stags, bucks, and wild bulls. Later still did the wild hog exist in our island ; for although we cannot precisely determine the date at which it became extinct, yet we may glean tracings of it for many years. In Strutt's Anglo-Saxons, vol. iii., p. 19, we have the following notice of the wild boar, in the time of Edward II. : — " Master John Gyfford and William Twety, that were with King Edward the Second, composed a book on the craft of Hunting, the which book is now preserved in the Cottonian Library. Part of it is in verse and part in prose. It begiuneth thus : — 'All sufh (lysport as voyfleth yrlilnesse It sytlylh every gentleman to knowe, Fdi- myrth annexed is to gentlene.sse. And for to setle yonge hunterys in the way or vcnery, I cast me fyrst to goe : or whi'.h foure bastes tie — that is to say, The hare, the herte, the wtilf, the wild boor also. And tiien ben other bestis five of chase ; The Bilk the first, the Do the second, The Fiix the thyrde, which oft has hard grace, The forthe the Martyn, and the last the Eoc' " Afterwards, in plain prose, th^se authors describe the wild hog in its different stages, according to the terms of sylvan sport: — • " The Boor. — First, he is a j^h as long as he is with his damme ; and then the damme leyveth him — then he is called a gorgeaunt ; and in the third yeare he is called an hoggast ; and when they be foure yere of age, they shall depart from the sound for age ; and when he gueth soole, then he is called a boor." These observations, or rather instructions, indi- cate an intimate knowledge of the natural history of the wild hog, as we shall afterwards explain. Only we may here add, by way of comment, that the adult wild boar is solitary, which is not the case with the sows, and their several litters of young. Other instructions follow ; but these are not very clear, nor very needful to our present purpose — which is to demonstrate, what some persons are unwilling to grant, that in recent times the wild boar was a denizen of our forests ; and more than that, that it deduced its lineage from an ancestry coeval with the lost mammoths and mastodons of that portion of the globe which we now call Europe. THE HOG. iU Anciently, a work termed ' Tristan,' most probably the name of its author, was expressly devoted to venerie. This book is now lost ; but in the fifteenth century, Dame Juliana Berners, prioress of the nunnery of Sopwell, and acquainted with this old work, took it as the foundation of a treatise, which, in the spirit of the olden time, she though fit to compose by way of instruction to the youthful nobles of the country, relative to the animals of the chase. Her book is generally termed ' The Book of St. Albans,' and was first printed at the Abbey in 1486. It contains a series of metrical treatises of hunting, hawking, angling, and heraldry ; and in its day must, no doubt, have been most acceptable. The boar is expressly mentioned ; and it is not improbable that the fair prioress had witnessed the chase of the surly and formidable beast, and been present at its death. Queen Elizabeth delighted to see the deer pulled down by fierce staghounds ; and we know the alliterative poem of Holofernes — "The pretty Princess" — which shows us that " ladye fair" thought little of the cruelty of such sports. Xay, since the days of Sliakspere, the slaughter of the battue has been composedly looked upon by the exalted of the gentler sex ; why, then, should we smile at the solemn treatise of Dame Juliana Berners, albeit it is the production of a holy prioress ? However, it is evident that in her day the wild boar roamed the hills and forests. It is one of her beasts of venery. " Four manner beastis of venery there are : The first of them is the Hart,\\\e second is the Hare ; The Boar is one of them ; the Wolf, and not one mo. And when that ye shall come, in plain or in place, I shall tell you which he beastis o( enchase. One of them is the Buck ; another is the Uoe ; The Fox, the Marteron, and the wilde Roe. And ye shall, my dear childe, other beastis all, Whereso ye find them, Rascal ye shall call." Strange ideas ! But such was the fashion. However, this proves to us that the wild hog, to a comparatively late period, existed in our woods ; in fact, not only did it give names to certain places, but it was adopted as the cognizance of ancient families on whose territories it probably continued to be especially protected. "The village of Brancepeth, and the adjoining hill called Brandon, in the county of Durham, took their names from a wild boar, or brawn, which is recorded to have been a terrific beast, and the dread of the whole neighbourhood ; his den being on Brawudon (brawn-den) hill, and his usual path or tract leading through the woods of Braucepeth (brawn's-path). Tradition states that one Roger Hodge, or Hoodge, valiantly slew the monster, and delivered the district from his ravages. The seal of this illustrious Roger still remains, and represents a hoar jMssant." — Bell, Hist.Brii. Quad. Certain districts in Scotland were also formerly noted as being frequented by this animal. It appears that a tract of country, now forming one of the extremities of the county of Fife, was anciently called Mucross, or Muccrosse. We read in Martine's B^Uquice that " the place was then a forest for wild boars, and was called in the countrie dauguage, Muccrosse ; that is, a land of boars, from muc, a sow, and ros.s, a land or island." In Sir Robert Sibbald's Fife there occurs the following notice of another portion of the same district: — "There, a mile west of it, on level ground and fertile, and six miles from Fifeness, is the metropolitan city of St. Andrews : anciently all round was forest and invested with boars ; hence this wood was called cursiis apri; and these lauds, called Byrehilh, were truly hoar-hills, as the learned Mr. Martine describes in his Reliquice Sa)icti Andrem. They tell of one boar that was of vast bulk and fierceness ; and that two of his tusks, each sixteen inches long, and four thick, were chained to St. Andrew's altar, in the cathedral church now demolished." To this circumstance Hdlinshed refers in his Chronicles of Scotland: " He also gave unto the church of St. Andrew's the lands called the Boarunke, so named, for that a great boar was slain upon the said ground, that had done much hurt in the country thereabout. The tusks of this boare doe hang in chaynes upon the quier in Saint Andrew's church, afore the high aulter, and are sixteen inches in length, and four inches in thicknesse." Sir Walter Scott introduces into his poem of Bakeby an allusion to a fierce wild sow, which once roamed in the forests of Richmond, in Yorkshire : " For all thy bi-ag and boast, I trow Nought know'st thciu of the Felon Sow, Quoth HuriKJol, nor how Greta's side She roamed, and Rokeby forest wide ; ' Nor how Ralph Rofceby gave the beast To Richmond's friars to make a feast." In a note. Sir Walter says, that the mock romance of the Felon Sow of Rokeby has no small portion of comic humour : " Ralph Rokeby, who, for jest s sake apparently, bestowed this intractable animal on the convent of Richmond, seems to have flourished in the time of Henry VII. ; which, since we know not the date of friar Theobald's warden- ship to which the poem refers us, may indicate that of the composition itself. The poem is rude, and begins as follows : ' Ye men that will aunters (adventures) winne, That late within this land hath beene, Of one I will you tell, ; And of a sew (sow) that was wa a boar's-spear in his hand ; next to him another huntsman in greene, with a bloody faulcion drawn ; next to him, two pages in taffatye sarcenet, each of y"" w"> a messe of mustard; next to whom came hee y' carried y« boar's head, crost w"> a greene silk scarf, by wh hunge y^ empty scabbard of y^ faulcion w*" was carried before him. As y''' entered y' hall he sang this Christmas earoU, y* three last vei-ses of every staHe being repeated after him by y« whole conipauye : " The boar is .lead, Loe hcare is his heade, What man coulil have done more Than his head off to strike, MeliBager-like, And bring it as I doe before ? " He living spoyled Where good men loyled. Which maile l.ind Ceres sorry. But now dead and drawne Is very good brawn, And we have brought it for ye. \ "Then sett down the swineyard, The foe to the vineyard, Let Bacchus crown his fall ; Let this boar's head and mustard Stand lor pigg, goose, and custard. And so ye are welcome all." In the first volume of Hone's Everyday Book, p. 1019, there is some further information relative to the boar's head at Christmas, and a c;u-ol ud^en 413 from Wynlvvn de Word's Christmas Carulles, on bringing in the boar's head. "The boar's head," says Mr. Youatt, "is to the present day placed upon the table in Queen's College, O.xford, on Christmas day; but it is now neatly carved in wood, instead of being the actual head of the animal. The ceremony is said to have originated in a taberdar belonging to that college havhig slain a wild boar on Christmas day, which had long infested the neigh hourhood of Oxford. He is said to have been going to serve at church, wlien he met the animal, and to have slain him by thrusting a copy of Aristotle down his throat." We do not require our readers to believe in this marvellous story; that Aristotle should have choked a boar conveys some covert sarcasm. It is said, but we know not on what authority, that the dish which King Henry II. carried to table with his own hands, when he caused his son Henry (who never came to the throne) to be crowned as his successor, was a boar's head. Eapin merely says, "At the feast upon this occasion the king would carry up the first dish ; and, speaking to his son, told him, never was monarch served in a more honourable manner." — (a.d. 1170.) As the boar's head was a dish of state, the account is not improbable. From the same source we leam that Queen Margaret, wife of James IV. of Scotland, at the first course of her wedding dinner was served with " a wyld bore's head gylt, within a fayr platter." Further we learn, that " the abbot of St. Germain, in Yorkshii-e, was bound to send yearly the present of a boar's head to the hangman, which a monk was obliged to carry on his own horse. This rent was paid yearly, at the feast of St. Vincent, tlie patron of the Benedictines, and on that day the execu- tioner took precerlency in the procession of monks." The narrator of these singular facts unfortunately gives no authorities; and though we doubt not their correctness, we should have felt more satisfaction had he given us the means of verifying them. After all, however, the point is immaterial ; all readers of our older literature know the degree of estimation in which the boar's head was held (surely not from its delicacy, but from its being a high trophy of a dangerous chase), in the olden time of merry England. " Old times are changed, old manners gone." But once in the knights good hall, what time the holly and misletoe bush were hung up, and the yule-log blazed upon the dog-ironed hearth, and the carpet was spread, not on the floor but on the table, naight a group around the board have risen up, when the sene- schal brought in the mighty boar's head, and sung the old quaint lines, "Tlir 1h„,.\1,.,,1 i„ I. ami. i.rin-.- I, " The bore's heed as I nnderstoinle Is the chefe .service in the londe, Loke wherever it be fonde Servile cum canlico. "Be gladde lordes bolhe more and lesse, For this ordeyned oure stewarde, To ehere you alle "this christraesse, The "bore's hcedc with mustarde." (Sec Ritson). These lines are far more elegant and spirited than the last before quoted, and are less spoiled by being miserably modernized. Nevertheless we suspect that the boar's head in latter days was by no means that of the wild animal, but of some domesticated substitute. The notice of mustard in the two carols we have quoted is remarkable. It reminds us of the hundred and sixty gallons, allowed per year in the household of the Duke of Northumberland, during the time of Henry VIII. Shakspere, moreover, in his Midsummer Nir/ht's Dream, alludes to the ordinary use of mustard, in Bottom's address to 'Mustard-Seed,' Act III.; and see also Taming the Sh rew, Act IV., Scene III., "Aye, but the mustard is too hot a little." The boar's head was evidently salted and boiled, and eaten with mustard, like that " same cowardly giant ox beef," whose acquaintance with mustard is disclosed by the redoubtable Bottom. So much for the boar's head " in hand;" of the boar's head as a crest in heraldry' much no doubt might be said, but in this science we are not proficient. The ancient crest of the family of Edgcumbe was a boar's head crowned with bays upon a charger ; and a boar's head, but not upon a charger, is the crest of a valued friend, J. Grabham, Esq. of Rochford, in Essex. Moreover, the boar's head is and has been used as a sign over the doors of houses of entertainment. Who has not heard of the ' Boar's Head ' at Eastcheap ? But with these things we have nothing to do. As a naturalist, perhaps, we must ask pardon for alluding to them. The wild boar itself, not its effigy on crests or on signs, is our present theme — the wild boar of the forest, the mighty beast, surviving the urus and the bison, and wliich in the feudal ages of our history called forth in its chase all the courage, skill, and powess of the gallant huntsmen who cheered on their hounds to the assaidt. How it is that, devoted as we are as a nation to field-sports and to the chase, the wild boar has not been introduced into the large parks of our nobility, we cannot lell. An attempt indeed was made by Charles I. to restore this nolile game to England, and he turned out several wild boars and sows (procured from Germany) in the New Forest, where they nmltiplied ; but the civil wars were no friendly times for the ultimate success of the experiment, and they appear to have, been all destroyed, albeit, perchance, some relics of the 414 strain may be found in the forest pigs of the present day, -which are unlike the ordinary breed of Hampshire. The forest pigs of Hampshire, says Gilpin (Forest Sceiiery), " are very different from the usual Hampshire breed ; and have about them several characteristic marks of the wild boar. The forest hog has broad shoulders, a high crest, and thick bristly mane, which he erects on any alarm ; his hinder parts are light and thin ; his ears are short and erect : and his colour either black or darkly brindled. He is much fiercer than the common breed, and will turn ngainst an ordinary dog. All these are marks of the wild boar, from whom probably in part he derives his pedigree, though his blood may be contaminated with vulgar mixtures. But though he is much more picturesque than the common hog, he is in much less repute among fai'mers. The lightness of his hind quarters and the thinness of his flanks, appear to great disadvan- tage in the ham and the flitch." Gilbert White informs us that General Emanuel Scroope Howe turned out some German wild boars and sows into his forests of Woolmer, and Ayles or Alice Holt, to the gi'eat (but foolish) terror of the neighbourhood, and also a wild bull or buffalo ; but the country rose upon them and destroyed them. Mr. Bell says that a similar attempt has been lately made in Bere wood in Dorsetshire, but that one of the boars ha\'ing injured a valuable horse belonging to the worthy Kimrod who exhibited this specimen of sporting epicurism, he caused them to be destroyed. Such an accident might have resulted from the horns of the bull or the sharp antlers of the stag, and we can see no reason why the wild boar should not he inti-oduced into some of our royal forests at least. Jt would not be more dangerous than the Chillingham wild bull, or the red deer ; and unharbouring the boar, with all the accompani- ments of the spear, the couteau, and the bugle- horn, and the grand boar-hounds, such as we see in the pictures of Snyders, would be sport quite as •worthy of our nobles as the hunt of the hare, or the chase of the fox. It was a sport in which our ancestors delighted ; and into which they entered with enthusiasm. It was not, however, only among our owTi ancestors in " merrie England," that boai-- hunting was a favourite exercise ; the ancients, that is the ancient Greeks and Romans, were equally devoted to the sport, and many allusions to it abound in the classic writings. It would appear that in most instances strong nets for enclosing or intercepting the animal were made use of, as indeed they are at present in India. Hence Ovid, in his des- cription of the chase of the Calydonian boar, says : — • Quo postquam Vincula pars j Signa pedum.' venere viri, pars rctia tendiint ilimunt canibus, pars pressa stquuntur That is, " As soon as the men have arrived at the spot, some stretch the nets, some uncouple the dogs, and some follow the imprinted foot-tracks." Lib. viii. Fab. iv. Again, Horace says: — " Manet sub jove frigido .Venator lenerae conjugis immemor, Seu visa est eatulis cerva fidelibus .Sen rupit teretes, marsus aper plagas." T'nder the cold .sky remains The hunter, of his tender wife unmindfnl, \\'hether it be that the hiiid is in sight of his faithful hounds. Or that tlie Mai-siaii boar has brolien the slender toils. Homer in his Odyssey describes the contest between Ulysses and a formidable wild boar; and Xenophon alludes to the use of nets in the chase lor entangling the animal, or restricting his move- ments. Dogs were necessary adjuncts, and in the British Museum a portion of Roman tesselated pavement represents very admirably a surly wild boar pursued by a short-tailed sharp-eared dog; the delineation of the former bringing to mind Ovid's description of the animal in the fourth fable of liis eighth book, thus translated by Dryden : — " His eyeballs glare with fire suffused with blood, His neck shoots up a thick-set horny wood. His bristled back impaled a trench appears, And stands erected like a field of spears. Froth fills his chaps, he sends a grunting sound. And part he churns, and part befoams the ground, For tusks wiih Indian elephants he strove, And Jove's own thunder from his mouth he drove." It must not be supposed that boar-hunting is obsolete. It is practised with great eagerness in India, and in those districts of Europe in which the animal still maintains its hold. As in the case of the wolf, the sport is valued only for its excitement, as no pai't of an old boar, except the head, is eatable. Young animals, and especially such as are under the care of the mother, are esteemed, but these afford no sport in the chase. " As the boar," says Buffon, " retreats but slowly, leaves a very strong odour, and defends himself against the dogs, always wounding them danger- ously, it will not do to chase him with good and swift hounds, destined for the stag or roe, as this sort of pursuit would spoil their scent, and get them into the habit of going slowly. Mastiffs, with slight training, suffice for the chase of the wild boar." These directions are evidently borrowed from a celebrated French treatise on hunting and falconry, written in the sixteenth centuiy by Jaquesdu Fouilloux, who gives the same advice, alleging that when hounds are accustomed to the overjjoweriug odour of this animal, and besides have their game constantly in view, they soon become unfitted for any other work, as they lose their delicacy of scent. Independently of which, the ferocity of the animal is anolher objection to their use ; for, being valuable rather for speed and the delicacy of their nose than for great 415 strength, good hounds are risked in an encounter better fitted for dogs of less value. The old boar-hounds, to judge by the pictures which represent this sport, were large, rough, wire-haired dogs, between the mastiiT and old greyhound, or perhaps crossed with the hound. They were dogs of great strength of jaw and of resolute courage, not remarkable for keenness of scent, but nevertheless well fitted for their dangerous service. The boar has been known to kill a dog with a single blow from his tusks, and, when he turns upon a pack, he naturally selects the boldest and most forward, and will lay several of them dead in as many blows. Jaques du Fouilloux relates an instance which came under his notice, in which a boar, pursued by fifty dogs, suddenly turned upon his assailants, and not only slew six or seven of them, but wounded so many more, that only ten of the whole number came home uninjured. The wild boar is common in the extensive forests of Finance, Germany, Russia, and Hungary, as well as in Spain and other countries. Even within forty miles of Paris, in the forest of Chan- tilly, the breed still lingers. The late Prince of Conde, who died in 1830, kept a pack of dogs for the express purpose of boar-hunting. These dogs were a kind of large bony hound, well adapted for the hazardous encounter. The following account of a boar-hunt is taken from Egan's Sjjortinc/ Anecdotes (p. 165), and will be read with some degree of interest from the circumstance that the great commander of the age was one of the actors in the scene : — " On October 30th, 1817, the hounds of the Duke of Wellington discovered a most enormous boar in the forest of Wallincourt (in the department of Cambray, in France). The animal, on being dis- tui-bed, passed rapidly into the forest of Ardi- part, which he completely traversed. Being then hardly scented by the dogs, he took to the plain, where he was vigorously pursued by hounds and sportsmen, and ere he could I'eaeh another wood was brought to hay. The animal then became ferocious, and destroyed all the dogs that ap- proached him, when one of His Grace's aides-de- camp plunged his spear into his side. This only rendered the beast more savage, when His Grace himself, seeing his dogs would be destroyed, rode up, and with his spear gave the coup-de-rfrdce. The animal made a desperate effort to wound His Grace's horse, and fell in the attempt. Of the numerous field that started in the pursuit, only five besides His Grace reached the end." It is not often, however, that the speai- is used in modern boar-hunting in Europe. This weapon has given place to the rifle, and the sport is con- sequently deprived of danger, and, we may add, . of excitement. In Germany, the huutsman or jager, armed with his rifle, goes into the forest accompanied by a dog trained to seek and rouse up the wild boar, the track of which he follows by the scent. When the boar quits his lair, the dog, giving tongue, pursues the game, but at a cautious distance, until he turns and stands at bay. The dog now, without venturing too closely, keeps up an incessant irritation, and dodges about, making feints of attack, until he leads the animal to expose his side to the hunter, who immediately fires, aiming at the shoulder. The boar genei-ally falls, but, if only wounded, he commences a pre- cipitate retreat, upon which a boar-hound is let loose, who pursues him for miles, until the animal drops exhausted, or again stands on the defensive. It is thus in the forests of Hanover and West- phalia, where wild swine ai-e numerous, that numbers ai-e destroyed, not only for amusement, but also for the sake of their flesh. It is from these wild hogs that the celebrated Westphalian hams are procured. Mr. Howitt, who saw gn-at numbers of wild swine of all ages in the wild boar park of the Emperor of Austria, at Hiittelsdorf, near Vienna, says — " Hunters tell us that, notwithstanding the orders of Government to exterminate swine in the open forests, on account of the mischief they do to cultivated land, there are great numbers in the forests of Hanover and Westphalia, huge, gaunt, and ferocious as ever. These will snuff the most distant approach of danger, and, with terrific noises, rush into the densest woods ; or surround- ing a solitary and unarmed individual, especially a woman or child, will scour round and round them, coming nearer and nearer at every circle, until at last, bursting in upon them, they tear them limb from limb, and devour them. Tame swine, which are herded in these forests, become mixed in breed with the wild, acquire the same bloodthirsty pro- pensities, and will, in their herds, surround and devour persons in a similar manner." — Rural Life in Geniiany. These herds are composed of females, and their young of different ages. The boars, after attaining the age of three years, lead a solitary life in the forest. It is not, however, until the age of five or six years that the boar attains his full dimensions ; and the duration of his life is from twenty-four to thirty years. The females with their young associate together in herds for mutual protection, and on the appi'oach of an enemy the young are placed in the centre, the older ones forming a circle around them. It is thus that the young are defended against the attack of the wolf, one of the chief foes to be dreaded by them in their native forests ; and to which, not- withstanding the vigilance of the old females, they often fall a prey. In the defence of their young, ! the females are furious, and resolutely attack 41U any animal which excites apprehensions in their behalf. This even the domestic sow will do when living at large in the woods. Mr. Lloyd, in his Field Sports of the North of Europe, gives the following account of the ferocity of a common sow which he met with in Sweden: — " One day in the depth of winter, accompanied by my Irish servant, I struck into the forest for the purpose of shooting capercali. On this occasion we had no other guide than my pocket compass. Tow^ards evening, and when seven or eight miles from home, ■we came to a small hamlet situated in the recesses of the forest ; here an old sow and her progeny made a determined dash at a brace of very valuable pointers I had at tliat time along with me, who naturally took shelter beliind us. ]My man had a light spear in his hand, similar to those used by our lancers ; this I took possession of, and directing him to throw the dogs over a fence, in the angle of which we were cooped up, I placed myself between the dogs and their pursuers. The sow, nevertheless, still pressed forward, and it was only by giving her a severe blow across the snout wiiii tiie butt end of the spear that I stopped her farther career. Nothing daunted, however, by this reception, she directed iier next attack against myself; when, in self-defence, 1 was obliged to give her a home-thrust with the point of the spear. These attacks slie repeated three several times, and as often got the spear up to tlie hilt either in her head or neck ; she then retreated slowly, bleeding at all pores. So savage and ferocious a beast I never saw in my whole life. In the fray I broke my spear, which was as well, for it was by no means strong enough to answer the purjjosefor which it was intended. " This was not a solitary instance of the ferocity of the wild swine. It was the same throughout Sweden ; whenever they caught sight of my dogs they generally charged, and if they came up with them would tumble them over and over again with their snouts. Cattle were often as bad in this respect as pigs. These ferocious attacks originated, I apprehend, from their mis- taking the dogs for wolves ; for this i-eason a person, if he has dogs, cannot be too careful of going near to houses, or tln-ough enclosures, as they may be either killed or disabled in an instant. For my part, when I have seen symptoms of a charge coming, I have frequently liad to run for it, ani to throw my dogs over a fence, if they were unable to surmount it themselves." Though the wild boar is at all times very savage, it is more dangerous at certain seasons than at others ; when in quest of the female his fury is uncontrollable, and should he meet a rival, a most sanguinary combat endues, not nnfrequenily ending 'n *h'- rb'otli of one or of both. 'T is -ihtn - . " The bristled boar New grinds his anning lusks, and digs the ground, He rubs his sides iigainst a tiee — prepares And hardens both his shoidders for the wars." Caix-y's Virgil, Georg.,lib. iii. In the month of December or January each male attaches himself to the society of a chosen female. They retire to the deepest recesses of the forest, and for the space of about thirty days the pair never leave each other's company. The female carries her young for about four months, and produces, according to her age, from four to ten jiigs, which she immediately withdraws from the cognizance of the male, who, instead of protecting, would destroy them, and even devour them. She suckles her brood for three or four months, but retains them in her suite for a much longer time, instructing and defending them. Her courage in the protection of her offspring is indomitable, and the latter i-epay her attention by a constant and long-continued attachment. An aged female is sometimes seen followed by several families, among which are individuals between two and three years of age, and consequently almost in the adult state. These young rovers are called by the French himtersbetes de compagnie. Sometimes seve- ral females with one or more families herd together, and such assemblages are sufficiently formidable, whether viewed in connexion with the damage which they occasion to the fields in which they pasture, or with the danger which is likely to accrue to the rash and inexperienced huntsman who without due precaution ventures to attack them. The wild boar, solitary and recluse, may be regarded as nocturnal in his habits; it is seldom, except wlien forced by the dogs of the hunter, that he stirs from his lair during the day. Night is his season of activity ; on the approach of twilight he sets out in quest of food, which consists of acorns, beech-mast, grain, i-oots, i a sjiccic's c.l' leg to six leel high : the seeils are • and Ijy laltk-. inous plant growing fnini foil un both bv the natives of Indi; 421 European species, with which it closelj' agrees in habits and manners, some allowance being made for differences of climate and production. At the same time, until we have the opportunity of com- paring a series of skulls, we must decline hazard- ing a decided opinion on the subject : the compara- tive shortness of the head in the Indian jungle hog, presents a point of dissimilarity between it and the wild hog of Europe. John Drammond Hay, Esq., in his interesting work entitled Western Barharij (1S44), relates several accounts of boar-hunting in that country, and also the story of a combat between a wild boar and a lion, as told him by an old hunter who had himself witnessed it : — •• In the days of my youth," said the Ileefian* hunter, " when a black moustache curled wliere now you see the hoary beard of my winter's age, I seldom passed anight within my father's hut ; but sallying out with my gun, laid wait for the wild animals which frequented a neighbouring forest. One moon- light night I had taken my position on a high rock which overhung a fountain and a small marsh, a favourable spot with our hunters to watch for boars who resorted thither to drink and root. " The moon had traversed half the heavens, and I, tired with waiting, had fallen into a doze, when I was roused by a rustling of the wood, as on the approach of some large animal. I raised myself with caution, and examined the priming of my gun, ere the animal entered the marsh. He paused and seemed to be listening, when a half growl half bark announced him to be a boar, and a huge beast he was, and with stately step he entered the marsh. " I could now see by the bright moon as he neared my station, that his bristles were white with age, and his tusks gleamed like polished steel among the dark objects around him. I cocked my gun, and waited his approach to the fountain " Having whetted his ivory tusks, he began to root ; but he appeared to be restless, as if he knew some enemy was at hand ; for every now and llitu, raising his snout, he snuffed the air. I marveiied at these movements, for as the breeze came from a quarter opposite my position, I knew I could not be an object of the boar's suspicions. " Now, however, I distinctly heard a slight noise near the edge of the marsh ; the boar became evidently uneasy, and I heard him say with a clear voice, for you must know they were formerly men, ' 1 hope there is no treachery.' This he repeated once or twice, and began to root.f * The inlmbitai ts of the line of mountains between Ceuta and Oi-.ui. + "In thehiit.il ■ say.5 Mr. Hay, " whirli is universal amongst the Moors. if .-, : J ,'< :■ .y,\ :- ::>ii, ■. ;;i iions, boars, and liv;i;nas, a M ■ !hal he is dealing in liciion.ln ■ . : I h a wild animal utters istrjii-l.ur.ii ■ ihh. ,-M.i AiMliir, ■—/'., ;.i.Y. " Keeping a sharp look-out on the spot whence I heard the strange noise, I fancied I could distin- guish the grim and shaggy head of a lion crouching upon his fore-paws ; and with eyes that glared like lighted charcoal through the bushes, he seemed peering at the movements of the boar. I looked again, and now I could perceive a lion creeping cat-like on his belly, as he neared the boar, who was busy rooting, but with bristles erect, and now and then muttering something that I could not understand. " The lion had crept within about twenty feet of the boar, but was hidden in part by some rushes. I waited breathless for the result ; and, although myself out of danger, I trembled with an.xiety at the terrible scene. " The boar again raised his snout, and half turned his side to the lion ; and I fancied I could see his twinkling eye watching the enemy. Another moment and the lion made a spring, and was received by the boar, who reared upon his hind legs. 1 thought I could hear the blow of his tusks as the combatants rolled on the ground. Leaning over the rock, I strained my eyes to see the result. To my surprise the boar was again on his legs, and going back a few paces, rushed at his fallen foe ; a loud yell was given by the lion, which was answered by the distant bowlings of the jackals. Again, and the ferocious boar charged till he buried his very snout in the body of the lion, who was kicking in the agony of death. Blood indeed flowed from the sides of the boar, but his bristles still stood erect, as he triumphed over the sultan of the forest ; and now he seemed to he getting bigger and bigger. ' God is great!' said I, as I trembled with dread. 'Pie will soon reach me on the rock.' I threw myself flat on my face, and cried out, ' There is no other God but God, and Mohammed is his Prophet !' I soon re- covered my cotu-age and looked again. The boar had returned to his natural size, and was slaking his thirst in the fountain. I seized my gun, but reflecting, said within myself, ' Why should I kill him? He will not be of any use to me ; he has fought bravely, and left me the skin of a lion, and perhaps he may be a Jin (evil spirit).' So I laid the gun down, contenting myself with the thought of the morrow. " The boar had left the fountain, and was again busied rooting in the marsh, when another slight noise, as of rustling in the wood, attracted my notice, and I could perceive the smooth head of a lioness looking with horror at the body of her dead mate. "'What! treachery again ?" said the boar in a low tone. "'God is great!' said the lioness; 'but ha shall pay for it. What! a pig— an infidel — to kill a lion! One spring, and I will do for him!' 422 THE HOG. Having said these words she advanced boldly. The boar stood prepared, grinding his teeth with rage. She paused, and again retreated to the wood, and I could hear her say, ' O God ! all-merciful Creator ! What an immense boar ! what an infidel ! what a Christian of a pig ! ' " ' May God bum your great-great-grand- mother !' said the boar. " On hearing the creature curse her parent she again stopped, and lashing her tail, roared with a voice that the whole wood re-echoed, and she said, ' There is no conqueror but God !' " The boar stamped his hoofs and gnashed his tusks again with rage ; his grizzly bristles, red ■with the blood of her mate, stood on end ; then, lowering his snout, he rushed headlong against the lioness, who, springing aside, avoided the dread blow. A cloud came over the moon, but I heard every blow of the paw, and every rip of the tusk. There was a dead silence ; again the cloud had passed and the heavens were clear, and I saw the lioness with her fore-paws on the body of the boar. I seized my gun, aimed at her head — that was her last moment. " The morning dawned. I descended from the rock. The claw of the lioness still grasped in death the body of the boar. Many severe wounds showed that the boar had again fought bravely. " The lions were the finest I ever saw, and I made good profit by that nights work." " We were still applauding the old hunter's story, when a gaunt Arab, thrusting forward his bare and sinewy leg, exclaimed, ' Look at these scars, and keep in mind, oh ye faithful, and thou, 0 son of the English, that it is not only dogs that are wounded or killed in the chase of the boar.' " ' Let us hear how you got them,' said the young mountaineer, the owner of the dog that had been killed (in a recent boar-chase). " ' It is soon told, 'said the man of scars. ' Some eight years past, during harvest-time, I was watch- ing at night for a boar in a field of ripe barley near Ras Ashacar (Cape Spartel), and fired at a large boar who reeled and fell, but got up again and made away. " ' At dawn of day I went to the spot where the animal had fallen, and finding marks of blood, I traced them to some brushwood in the centre of the field, which spot I ringed, and perceiving the animal had not gone away, I was thinking what might be best to do, my gun cocked in my hand, when I heard a rush, and before I could get my gun to my shoulder the boar was upon me ; the gun was dashed out of my hand, and I expected every rip 1 received that my doom bad been written. God knows how long this encounter lasted ; the time seemed to be as an age. "'Finding no manner of escape, I slipped my arms from the gelab, and escaped out, leaving the animal to vent his rage on my garment. I crawled off, but fainted from loss of blood. "' I did not recover my senses till I was found by my fiimily, who carried me home to Mesnana (a village near Tangier) half dead. I told my story there, and a party of hunters went out directly to revenge my wounds. They found the beast had again retreated to his lair, having cut my dress into shreds. He attacked them, as he had attacked myself, but they were prepared and soon killed him. I was not able to stand on my legs for many months after.' " ' The son of the English,' said Sharky, point- ing to me {i.e. Mr. Hay), 'had just such a narrow escape four years ago, when he and the son of America attacked a boar at bay. "' Let us hear,' said they all, ' 0 Nazarene !' " I complied with their request, and suiting my style to my audience, told my tale much after the following fashion. " It was in the mcnith of October, 0 ye faith- ful children of the Prophet, and early in the morning, that I received a message from the son of America, who had passed the night in the hills watching for boars, begging me to join him at the marshes of Boobana as soon as possible, and to bring my hunter Sharky, with his two dogs and an extra gun. The messenger told me that my friend had wounded a large boar, and that while tracking him, the animal had rushed from the thicket, that his rifle had missed fire, and that had it not been for a ruined wall, on which he had taken refuge, he would have fai'ed badly. " I soon joined my friend, whom I found still perched on the topmost point of the wall waiting my arrival. " The boar had moved off to some distance in the thicket. We soon got on the track of the beast, and found by the print of his hoofs that he was wounded in the right hind leg. " ' At him Merkis!' said Sharky, as he slipped his dogs. ' Get out you Jew ; there is only one God!' which the old hound Zeitsoon answered by how ; and the little cur Merkis, whose hide was striped like a zebra's from the rips of boars, yelped with joy as he got on the scent. " ' That 's he,' shouted Sharky ; ' none but the one God !' "The dogs had now headed us by some hundred yards, when we heard Zeitsoon give tongue as when the boar is at bay ; and it was quite cer- tain that this was a large one, for both the dogs seemed to be keeping at a respectful distance. " I had scrambled through the thicket wiihin some yards of the place where the dogs were giving tongue, and was calling to my companions to know where they were in case I fired ; but the only answer I received, 0 ye faithful ! was given THE HOG. 42a me by the boar, who was nearer than I imagined. Luckily I had kept clear of his path ; so he dashed by within a few paces of me without my being aiile to get a shot, or he a rip. The dogs followed in full cry, and had reached an open space when we heard a piteous howl. Poor Zeitsoon had been almost severed in half. The boar, we sup- posed, had laid iu wait for him in the open space. " Sharky, when he saw the frightful state of his brave and faithful hound, sat down without saying a word, and taking his turban began to bind up the wound, whilst he offered up a prayer for the life of the poor dog.* The boar had now managed to make his way up the opposite bank, and little Merkis, heedless of his companion's fate, yelped on the track ; when again a howl grated on our ears. Sharky started up on his feet, and brandishing his bill-hook, shouted to the full extent of his lungs, 'Plide yourself, Merkis; do not trust him, he is an infidel.' " The dog showed he was not much hurt by still giving tongue, though in such a manner as told that the boar had again come to bay. Having called a council of war, my friend and I determined to go into the boar by ourselves, as more than two persons would only create confusion. " The enraged beast had come to bay in a jungle of gum-cistus, entangled with briars, a very unfavourable place for our attack ; however, having thrown off our sporting jackets and examined the priming of our guns, we entered the wood, agreeing to keep some few paces from each other. " At first we made against the wind, and kept clear of the boar-paths, which is the best method of avoiding an unexpected attack. Having advanced some way through the thicket, I was obliged to return to a boar-path, for I found it was impossible to make way through the brambles, having already left most of my covering among the thorns. " 1 moved slowly onward in a stooping position, keeping my gun as a battery in front; behiii.l me walked an English setter, who being usele^;s fur partridge shooting, I was training for the nobler sport. The light hardly penetrated the dense jungle, so that I could not distinguish my com- * The affection of the Mogiebbin sportsmen for their clogs is 1 rnaik ible and duiino: the chase of the boar, " they express their leelings in the mosltnhaniq terms; such as, ' My children, my de I est tal e care he sees \ ou he is an infidel, a Nazarene. He ■B ill ha\e his re\enjJ!e Nont but the one God !'" On the occasion to which this pissige refeis tliree dogs were wounded, one belong- in!!; to 1 \(ung niountaii eei moitilly. The j 01 iiiimal ha 1 just hie enough to wag his tail and raise uj. Ins held as his ownei i hue voung mountaineer, came up and tod 1 m in hi Ixp Al s' nn poor dog,' he said, ' did I not warn y u not to go near the mhdel ' but God's will be done.' The tears staled in his ejes as his do^ expired. The bill-hooks were set to woik and a giavt w is dug o bury the poor animal; each man put a St le HI II It I a tnl uti. of his affectionate regret, and I, on m\ 1 1 Ihe number. The wounrls of the other two d the ll orn or point of the Aloe-leaf and It I 1 lor a surgeon's needle and s;ik thread." — panion through the gloom, although I heard him advancing as cautiously as myself. "At length I got within about fifteen paces of the spot where the dog was giving tongue. I knew I was in an exposed position, but could not avoid it, being unable to move to the right or left, the brambles were so thickly matted together. Merkis, enct)uraged by my presence, ran to and fro yelping bravely, but searched in vain to get a sight of the enemy. " ' Can you see him ?' said the son of America, who was some yards to my left. ' Hush !' I replied for at that moment I fancied I could hear the beast move. My setter now pricked up his ears, and rushed forward. It was the affair of an instant ; for hardly had I fixed my gun to my shoulder, when I saw Cato pushed forward by the boar, and howling with fright. " It was useless to fire, for such was their posi- tion that I should have killed the dog without hurting the boar. But the difficulty was soon removed, for the boar, throwing the dog behind him, was at once on the muzzle of my gun. I pulled both triggers, but the very instant that I fired my gun was dashed from my hand, and I and the enraged animal rolled together on the ground. I was undermost, and managed to keep my face downwards to the earth, lying as flat and as still as possible ; the path of the boar being happily for me a small watercourse which had been worn away, so that the shallow trench somewhat protected me from his tusks. Having recovered from the shots, the monster began to belabour me with his snout ; but being a little flurried, I sup- pose, could not manage to get a rip. I was in a terrible fright, and hollowed for assistance, expect- ing every moment to be in the same plight as poor Zeitsoon, whose dreadful wound flashed across my mind. " My companion had now come up boldly to the rescue. ' Take care,' cried I, ' you don't put a ball into me.' Bang, bang, went both barrels. The boar left me and made at his new assailant ; who, keeping his gun steady, and having the advan- tage of being in the thicket, was preserved from the awkward accident which had happened to myself. Merkis, seeing him in danger, boldly laid hold of the boar behind, and Cato was mustering courage, like myself, to assist him ; when the boar, worried by Merkis, shook him from his hold, and turned after the dogs. Cato was again wounded. Having recovered my gun, which by the blow of his (the boar's) snout had been thrown from my hand, I requested ray companion to examine me, and see whether I was injured, for I was covered with blood, and whether it was the boar's or mine I could not say, so completely had fear taken away all sense of pain. ' Load your gun,' was his cool reply, 'and then we will see what is the matter.' 424 " We now heard the hunters shouting to us from outside the wood to abandon the boar ; they •were certain he was a Jin, and that we should both of us be killed, or receive some dreadful wound. Tlie dogs were giving tongue at some distance ahead of us, and again Sharky shouted, ' God is great ! — get out, you black Jin !' " ' Come,' said my cool friend, having exa- mined me, and found I was only marked by the snout and hoofs of the pig ; ' I calculate we will fix him this time. Let us keep together, however, and it is my turn to go first.' Finding that 1 was not quite killed, and roused by the tongue of the dogs, I again dashed onward with him into the thicket. " ' Do you see him?' said I, as we approached the dogs. ' Yes,' he whispered ; ' make yourself easy, he is couiing towards us.' I grasped ray gun, and stooping abreast with him in the path, we awaited our foe's assault. He was white with age. Blood was streaming down his side. He did not appear to see us, but was watching tlie dogs. ' Now," cried I, ' four barrels at ouce, and I think we can kill even a Jin.' We fired : the boar fell, got up, staggered, and again rushed gallantly towards us. 'The branches, which we clung to for safety, barely sustained our weight; my companion, who is a larger man than myself, sometimes swimg as low as the snout of the boar. " Merkis again called off the animal's attention, giving a sly snap and then retreating. The boar moved from us a few paces and we ventured to quit our trees. I had no balls left ; my companion had but one, which he now fired, having put the muzzle of his gun almost to the animal's head ; who though much weakened from loss of blood, was standing gallantly. As the son of America fired, the beast sank on his hind legs. " We drew our knives, and, assassin-like, stole behind him. Fierce even in death, be tore with his teeth the bushes near him. Foam and blood gushed from his mouth ; as we advanced he made a fresh effort, but at the same moment our hunting- knives were plunged in his heart. " ' Who-op — who-op !' we cried ; ' the devil is dead !' Merkis said something to the same pur- pose. Poor fellow, he had received an ugly rip in the neck. We found every shot that had been fired had entered the body of the boar. The car- case bore eleven marks of our balls. We had great trouble to drag the bulky brute into the open field. He measured six feet four inches from snout to tail, and three feet three inches from shoulder to hoof, and though not fat, weighed above twenty stone. However, lean as he was, he yielded us some capital chops. " Poor Zeilsoon was carried home, but never recovered his wounds, though he lingered many " ' There is no strength nor power but in God !' cried my audience." Mr. Hay gives the details of other boar-hunts in Barbary ; and from his account it would appear that this animal is very common, and commits havoc in grain fields and melon fields adjacent to dense woods or jungles, in which he secretes him- self during the day. Tl:e result of one day's sport, near the hills of Shreewa, is noticed as having amounted to ten boars and six jackals. Lieutenant-Colonel E. Napier, in his Wild Sports in Enrope, Asia, and Africa, describes the chase of the wild boar in the plain of Esdraelon, at the base of the Naplouse hills (Syria), and be states this animal to be abundant in the extensive marshes which commence within a few miles of Jaffa. In Lower Egypt, wjtliin twenty miles of Ale.xandria, the wild hog in considerable numbers tenants the marshy lands, and the dense beds of reeds and jungle along the banks of canals. " The plains of Lower Egypt," says Col. Napier, " though at first sight presenting the most level unbroken appearance, occasionally offer obstacles which might puzzle a well-mounted Leicestershire man, who, though he would in vain search for a single ox-fence, five-barred gate, or bulfinch hedge, might occasionally be brought to a stand-still by a dyke (too broad to clear at a leap) of stagnant water, soaking deeply into a rich black and loamy soil; by a continuous range of soft marshy rice fields ; or, more particularly at the season when the land is in many places overfiown by the swollen waters of the Nile, by that most provoking and impassable of all stoppers, a dark, deep, and treacherous bug." The following account of an unsuccessful hunt, will convey an idea of the difficulties to be over- come. Two of the party, horses and all, had already been immersed in the dark muddy water of a broad ditch, before the sport commenced. The narrative then runs on. " After traversing a few more rice fields and approaching the Barrieh, we began to despair of a Jind, when the suddenly increased clamour and rapid motions of the beaters announced something to be on foot; and presently above the waving rice, like the dark forms of the ' monsters of the deep, over the ripples of a summer sea, the well-known outline of an old acquaintance was first dimly viewed ; and then, as the rustling herbage opened on his passage, and occasionally showed a portion of the black moving mass above even its highest undulating tops, no doubt remained on my mind of its being a boar and one of the first magnitude; but I proved niist;dtrain. In visiting the various farms, by ^vay of obser- vation, within ten miles of Heading, we could generally tell the cross or crosses of the animals in the farmer's straw-yard ; in many instances the breed was a compound of old improved Berkshire, improved Suffolk, and Chinese. On more than one occasion have we paused to admire the sym- metry of some of these pigs ; it was perfection, but certainly accompanied by loss of weight and size, compared with the older breeds ; but this is of little consequence, for we believe that rather small (not too small) and quickly fattening breeds are, from first to last, the most profitable ; indisputably they afford the best meat in whatever way it is prepared. The new breeds now to be seen in Berkshire are but thinly clothed, and are said to be some- what tender, a circumstance in that sunny county of little consequence, for the farmer's straw-yard supplies abundant shelter and comfort. Around Henley in O.xfordshire, on the banks of the Thames, and about Dorking in Surrey, cross breeds of the Berkshire strain prevail ; although in the latter country the improved Essex breed is held in great estimation. Of this latter we shall speak hereafter. There are few counties in England into which the Berkshire breed of pigs has not penetrated ; it is everywhere valued for its excellent qualities, its fair moderate size, its small bones, its thin sward of skin, its fattening qualities, and the excellence of its flesh. First rate hogs of this breed have been reared in distant counties, and Staffordshire can boast a strain from the progeny of the Tamu-orth Boar. Through Middlesex, Hertfordshire, Bedfordshire, and Leicestershire, the Berkshire breed has extended itself, modifying the old races, not without other crossings ; indeed it must be confessed that the modern system of interbreedin" renders it difficult to tell the orioinal stock on which the grafts have been made ; or rather what strain shows itself the most pro- minently. In Berkshire it is the general custom to singe the hogs after being killed, and not to remove the bristles by means of hot water and scraping, nor do they' as a rule smoke the flitches after salting, but merely dry them. The same remark applies more or less to the adjacent counties ; for example, the bacon sold in Henley is unsmoked. In fact the taste for smoked bacon and hams seems to a certain degree to be confined to London, as far as England is concerned. In Derbyshire, Cheshire, Lancashire, and some of the neighbour- ing counties, smoked bacon is a rarity, and on leaving that part of the country for London, the difference with regard to the flavour of this article of the table forcibly struck us ; however, the porky or the siiioke'j flavour is a matter of taste ; but the empyrematous essence of tar ! yrocul ahsit! Wiltshire is celebrated, and deservedly, for bacon, as Yorkshire for hams. The old Wiltshire hog was of large size, short limbed, but heavily boned, long in the body, but round and high on the croup. The ears, though large, were pointed. These animals were slow feeders, and great con- sumers of food ; nevertheless, when, at some cost, they were fattened, they produced meat of excellent quality, especially fitted for converting into bacon. They were probably a mere variety of the Berkshire strain, and certainly possessed good qualities ; but they are greatly improved, owing to judicious crossings with the Chinese and Neapolitan stocks, and though, as might be anticipated, they are smaller in stature than formerly, they are finer boned, more compact in contour, far quicker fatteners, and consequently ready for the butcher eariier. At the same time, the superior quality of the meat has suffered no decline, indeed quite the contrary. Wiltshire bacon commands a high price. He who travels through Hampshire, and looks into the farm-yards, will see some excellent hogs, generally black, and middle sized, with rather a long snout, but compactly made ; they are a modification of the old large-sized Hampshire stock, individuals of which in former days were of huge magnitude— and some carried about for show. This colossal breed is now seldom to be seen, but it had its good points ; when fattened {and time and much food were required to effect this), it returned, by way of repayment, a weighty carcase. As in all such cases, however, the question comes in, was it profitable— was the repayment for food and time in a just ratio? The answer must be, quick fattening, even with a smaller carcase, a gain of time and of provision being included, is one of the points in which the farmer finds himself the best remunerated. Slow feeders, however 106 THE IMPROVED HAMPSHIRE weighty tlieir carcase at last, will not be found Iirofitable when all expenses ai-e calculated. As we have said, however, this old breed is seldom if ever to be seen ; occasionally perhaps large sized hogs, in which the strain of the old race prevails, may be met with, but not generally. The present Hampshire hog is compounded of the old race, and the Essex, the Chinese, and the Neapolitan, with an admixture also of the im- proved Berkshire. We have already stated that a semi-wild breed of pigs are peculiar to the New Forest; they are termed Forest pigs, and differ materially from the ordinary stock cultivated by the Hampshire fai'- mers. Though far inferior in size to the true wild hog, these animals exhibit much of the characteristics of that animal, and probably owe their origin to a cross between the wild hogs intro- duced into the forest by Charles I. and some of the ordinaiy breeds of his period. These animals are heavy in the fore quarters, but light and meagre posteriorly ; the withers are high, the ears short, the mane thick and biistly, the colour black or brindled ; the disposition is fierce and distrust- ful, and they display extraordinary activity and acuteness. The troops are headed by leaders which take alarm at the slightest appearance of danger, and are ready on an emergency to act on the defensive. This forest breed, however, is now rarely to be seen in its purity — in fact, it is passing away, or perhaps rather merging into a more domestic and mingled stock, thereby losing its pristine characteristics. We have previously alluded to Gilpin's Forest Scenery ; from the same work we make the following quotation, relative to the semi-wild forest breed as it existed in his time ;* it exhibits a striking picture of the woodland swine, half reclaimed, with which we may suppose our great forests were formerly replete. " We well I'emember (he writes) an occasion when we had thrown ourselves down at the foot of a great beech tree, whence we looked abroad, from under its wide canopy of foliage, on a small track of sunshine, which, penetrating an opening in the wood, and falling athwart the ground be- yond, gave a broader and deeper effect to the surrounding shadows. There was not a breath of air, and not a sound was audible. Calmly we lay in that listlessuess of a dreamy musing, which to an idle mind might seem like idleness, but which the philosopher, student, or moralist knows better how to appreciate. " Suddenly a sound like that of warlike music, mellowed by distance, came upon our ears. We '; started so far up from our recumbent position as to lean upon one arm and listen intently, and not , without some degree of awe, being almost per- suaded that some wondrous fairy pageant was about to gratify our sight. " The sound increased and grew harsher as it advanced, and as it drew nearer — yet nearer — the tramp of what might have- been imagined to be elfin chivaliy accompanied it. At length, while we were yet listening in mute expectation, the * The Rev. William Gilpin was born 1724, and tlied 1804. He was vicar of Boldie, on the borders of the New Forest, dm-ing the latter part of his life; and was eminent for piety, learning, and a most cultivated taste. His works are numerous. See his life in Penny Ctjclopmdia. 4t37 leading boar of a large herd of forest pigs came grunting into view, followed by all the musical members of his harmonious detachment. " Whether it was the cheering invigorating effects of the sunshine, or whether there was some- thing particularly savoury in the herbage of that spot, we know not, but the giainting swelled into a loud chonis, their snouts became more and more busy, their ears and tails kept up one continuous and joyous motion, and their small eyes seemed to flash back the sun's rays with unwonted eagerness of expression. It was really an interesting sight, and were it not that swine were the subject of it, we should — and truly — say it was as beautiful as interesting. The creatures were in fine condition, their bristles glittered like silver, their bodies were as clean as if they were as regularly w-ashed and combed as a lady's lap-dog, and they seemed so full of freedom and happiness that, while looking on them, we felt all the romance of forest life, and recollections of the merry greenwood. " Wishing to observe and admire them more closely, we sprang up, but, in so doing, alarmed them, and off they gallopped helter-skelter, sauve qui peut, with a speed that none of the porcine race, not forest bora and bred, could equal, and long after every one was out of sight — vanished in the mazes of the woodland — we still heard their retreating trumpets, gradually dying away until lost in the distance." Few such truly independent herds now exist, but the forest breed has not lost its original characters. Lincolnshire is one of the counties noted for an excellent breed of pigs. The old race were gaunt, slow-feeding, unprofitable animals, with heavy heads and tlat sides ; but the improved breed of the present day are well formed, of mode- rate size, easily fattened, and produce excellent flesh ; they are white, with fine skins, and sparingly covered with bristles, which are slender ; the ears are erect and pointed, the body long, straight, and round. These pigs, deservedly esteemed, may be fatted to about 45 stones (14 lbs), and, when at the age of a year and a-half, many are found to range between 20 and 30 stones. A cross between the Lincoln and Chinese breed — though of diminished size — is foimd to attain more rapidly to maturity than the pure Lincoln, and fattens quickly upon a very moderate allowance of food. Norfolk produces excellent pigs, somewhat smaller than those of Lincolnshire, but closely agreeing with them in characters ; they are well- formed, fatten quickly, and yield fine meat. Be- sides this breed, a smaller race prevails in many parts of Norfolk, descended as it would appear from the Chinese, which it greatly resembles. These pigs are in great estimation ; they fatten readily on a small quantity of food, and their flesh is delicate. Suffolk, now noted for its improved breed, formerly possessed only a coarse, lank, thriftless stock ; but this has given place to a mixed race, admirable for symmetry and quick and early fattening. The most generally approved breed is across between the Suffolk, Berkshire, and Chinese. These animals are rather small, but compact, short-legged, and small-headed, the body is round, and they fatten readily. At the age of a year, or ^/%^-S5 h IPEOVED SUF 408 IMPKOVED ESSEX HOG. a year unci a-half, many are found to weigh from 12 to 15 score, and produce first-rate hacon. The flesh of the sucking-pigs and of the porkers is esteemed for its peculiar delicacy. Besides this breed, which stands first, there is an excellent cross between the Suffolk and Lin- coln ; the pigs attain to a considerable weight, ranging from 30 tolO stones (14 lbs.)and upwards ; they are hardy, and fatten readily. Another breed is between the Berkshire and Suffolk, and this has its admirers ; it is easily kept iu good condi- tion, fattens quickly, and makes excellent bacon. It is, however, longer in the leg and less compact iu symmetry than the tricross between the Suffolk, Berkshire, and Chinese. The improved Lincoln- shire race is much valued in Suffolk, as is also the improved Essex breed, established by Lord Western,* and esteemed throughout the king- dom. It is black, short-nosed, deep-jowled, short and thick in the neck, with small, sharp ears; the limbs are short and fine-boned, the barrel is rounded, the hams very full, the hair is spare and short, the skin fine ; some have small wattles or ayipendages of skin depending from the neck. These animals fatten quickly, grow rapidly, and yield very superior meat ; as porkers they are ad- mirable, the meat being small and peculiarly delicate. The hogs, when fattened, will some- times weigh '26 or 28 stones (14 lbs.), often 18 or 20. This black breed is greatly crossed with the Neapolitan, and we believe the Sussex. A modification of this breed is often seen in Essex : the pigs, hke the Sussex, are generally black and white — the head and hinder parts being black, and the central portion of the body white. They are admirable in contour, with a deep round carcase, and fine skin, fine in the bone, and full in the hindquarters. The flesh is excellent. The sows produce large litters, but are said not to make the best nurses. We did not. however, hear this complaint from any of the Essex farmers,; du.ing our frequent visits to Rochford and the adjacent country. We suspect, however, that the Essex breed is delicate, and requires care, as in- deed do all high-bred domestic quadrupeds. Sussex possesses a breed very much like the last parti-coloured race, of which it appears to be a variety. Tliese pigs are well-made, of middle size, with a thin skin, and scanty bristles ; the snout is tapering and fine, the ears upright and pointed, the jowl deep, the body comjmctly rounded. These pigs arrive early at maturity, and fatten quickly ; the bacon hogs averaging a weight of 20 stones ( 1 4 lbs). The flesh is excel- lent. Their bone, perhaps, is larger than in the Essex breed, but then the improved stocks of this latter race are remarkable for smallness of bone, and we doubt whether they are more bony than tlie improved stocks of the old Berkshire strain. The breed is undoubtedly valuable, and well adapted for crossing with the Essex, Neapolitan, or Chinese. Sussex once boasted of a gigantic race of pigs, known by the name of the Rndgwick breed (Rudg- wick is a village in that countv), some of which Til 4G9 were among the largest swine ever reared in our i island. As is tlie case with all Imge breeds, these animals were slow feeders, and, we may add, " huge feeders ;" but they yielded an enormous weight of excellent meat. Nevertheless, they saw the" day of their decline and fall; they became more and more influenced by the intercrossings of new breeds, till at length the old stock has become obsolete, its celebrity depending upon records and notices of the last century. Bedfordshire has sent some admirable pigs to the great cattle-shows in London. Nevertheless, the animals could not be called truly Bedfordshire as to peculiarity of breed. They were crosses of various kinds, in which, as it appeared to us, the Suffolk strain was prevalent. We do not intend to pass in review overeveiy county in our island, because we should only have to repeat what we have already said. Cross- ings and intercrossings are everywhere taking place, and all the old stocks have become so altered, that the porcine race of England is gene- rally assuming an approach to universal uniformity. The modified New Leicesters and Yorkshires, the improved Berkshires, the Essex, and the New Suffolks, with various intermixtures of the Chinese and the Neapolitan races, are everywhere extend- ing themselves. The gaunt, lanky, old breeds, flat in the sides and heavy in the bone, are now rare spectacles, and regarded as curiosities. Among this diversity of intercrossings, certain strains are brought to high perfection by the breeder's skill and patience, and are deemed the highest even of the race to which they may .belong. Thus, for example, in Berkshire we have the Coleshill strain, the pure Wadley strain, and the old Crutchfield strain ; in Essex we have Lord Western's strain ; and the same observations apply to other counties. We have before us the cata- logues of the cattle-shows .of London for the Christ- mas of iy46 and 1847, both of which we attended with the express pur[)ose of examining the stock. A few extracts will serve to show the class of pigs on which the judges set the highest value ; at the same time, we are free to confess that in all cases our judgment did not quite coincide with that of the gentlemen in question, and we thought that too often exorbitant overloading of fat was too much i-egarded — a point of less consequence than contour, fertility, and aptitude to fatten upon moderate rations ; inasmuch as the wealthy have at their command the means of forcing animals, we may say, unnaturally, and think little of the waste thereby incurred in order to accomplish their object. We have seen pigs not only in- capable of standing, but also of seeing, from the enormous volumes of fat with which they were loaded. Such an accumulation of fat is in itself a disease. Think what must be the state of the lieai't, the condition of the circulation, and the character of the muscular fibres. We have heard of mice burrowing in the fat of such animals, without appearing to occasion any pain or incon- venience. However, this is not the point in question. In the year 1S40, the prize ami commended pigs, together witli the names of the exhibitors, were as follows : — " 225. M.-. W. Mills Barber, of Uxliridge, Miildlescx— A pen of 13 weeks unil 4 days old MiiMlesex improved pigs, bred by himself, and fed on toppings, barley and peas ground, and chat potatoes — HiifJtly commended. "227. Mr. Charles Eley, jun., of Heathfielil Farm, near Hounslow, Middlesex— A pen of three 20 weeks and 5 days old improved Berkshire pigs, bred by himself from the stock of Mr. C. Eley, sen , and fed on buck-wheat, barley-meal, peas, and milk with water — First Prise, £10, and Silver Meial to the breeder. " 228. Mr. John Heray, of Hawthorn Hill, near Maidenhead, Berks— A pen of three 23" weeks and 5 days old improved Essex pigs, bred by himself, from stock bought of Mr. W. Fisher Hobbs, and fed on Indian corn, b;aley, buck-wheat meal, and skimmed milk — Commended. " 232. The Kight Hon. the Earl of Radnor, of Coleshill, near Farringdon, Berks— A pen of three 21 weeks and 1 day old Coles- hill pigs, bred by his Lordship, and fed on 20 bushels of barley- meal and 3 bushels of potatoes mixed with whey. " 233. His Roval Highness Prince .\lbert, of Windsor Castle —A pen of three 41 weeks old Bedfordshire pigs, b]ed by his Roval Highness, and fed on corn, meal, milk, and potatoes — Second Prise, £a. " 238. The Right Hon. the Earl of Radnor, of Coleshill, near Farringdon, Berks— A pen of three 45 weeks and 1 day old Cuhsliill pigs, bred by his Lordship, and fed on 48 bushels of barlev-nical mixed with whey, and ab<.ut 6 bushels of potatoes— First Prise, i'lO, and Silver Medal to the breeder, and Gold Medal for the best pen of pigs in the 17th and 18th <-lasses. "239. Mr. James Singleton, of Isleworth, near Brentford, Mid.llesex— Apen of three'32 weeks and 5 days old Middlesex improved pigs, bred by Dr. John Mackinlay, of Isleworlh, from the stock of Mr. J.imes Singleton, and fed. on house-wash, grains, middliugs, barleynieal, toppings, boiled potatoes, and skimmed milk — Commended. EXTRA STOCK. "250. The Right Hon. the Earl of Radnor, of Coleshill, Berks— A 45 weeks and 1 day old Coleshill pig, bred by his Lord ship, and fed on 16 busliels of barley-meal mixed with whey, and 1 bushel of potatoes — Silver Medal. •• 253. Mr. Edward Whitfield, of Snaresbrook.nearWanstead, Essex— A 28 weeks and 9 days old Essex and Suffolk pig, bred by himself, and fed on middlings, barley-meal, and milk— Highly commended. " 1S6. The Right Hon. the Earl of Radnor, of Coleshill, Berks — A pen of three 24 weeks and 6 days old Coleshill pigs, bred by his Loidship, and fed on barley -meal, whey, and skimmed milk — Second Prise, £5. " 187. Mr. Edward Whitfield, of Snaresbrook, near Wanstead, Essex— A pen of three 18 weeks old true Essex pigs, bred by him- self, from the slock of Mr. W. Fisher Hobbs, and fed on mid- dlings, barley-meal, and milk- FiVsi Prise, ^10, Silver Medal to the breeder, and Gold Medal for the best pen of pigs in the 16lh and 17lh classes. " 188. Mr. James Peto, of Heslon, near Hounslow, Middlesex — A pen of three 20 weeks and 10 days old improved Sussex pigs, 470 bred by himself, and fed on meal and skimmed milk — Hhjldy commended. " 189. Mr. E. G. Barnard, of Gosfield Hall, near Halstead, Essex — A pen of three 14 weeks and 3 days old improved Essex pigs, bred by himself, from a sow of Mr. \V. Fisher Hobbs, and fed on barley-meal — Commended. " 191. His Royal Highness Prince Albert, of Windsor Castle — A pen of lln-ee 39 weeks and 3 days old Bedfordshire and York- shire pigs, bred by his Royal Highness, and fed on barley-meal, peas, and .skimmed milk — First Prize, £10, and Silver Medal to the breeder. " 192. Mr. Edward Whitfield, of Snaresbrook, near Wanstead, Essex — A pen of three 42 weeks and 5 days old Suffolk and Essex pigs, bred by himself, and fed on middlings, burley-meal, and m\Vti— Second Prize, £5. " 193. Mr. John Hayward, of Hulsewood, in the parish of Wilmington, near Dartford, Kent — A pen of three 32 weeks old improved Watlington pigs, bred by himself, and fed on wash from the kitchen, toppings, oatmeal, and pea-meal. — Coinniended. "EXTRA STOCK. " 203. Mr. James Peto, of Heston, near Hounslow, Middlesex — A 21 weeks and 1 day old improved Sussex pig, bred by himself, and fed on meal and skimmed milk — Silver Medal." Besides the breeds specified above, the improved Buckinghamshire and various crosses are men- tioned ; and of these many were excellent in general contour. In fact, the whole of the stock of pigs exhibited was a sufBcient evidence of the general and marked improvement which has taken place in this class of domestic animals ; but we form our judgment rather from those which showed their points, were really well fed, and not fattened up till they appeared like bloated skins of lard — as destitute of definite shape or contour, as of the power of moving about. What a waste of money must the forcing of such a porcine monster occa- sion ! The outlay would have sufficed to bring three pigs into fine and profitable condition. And what is the object ? To show in how short a time a pig can be rendered a mass of fat, and upon what sort and quantity of food. The better aim would be to show how many pigs could be well fattened in a given time upon a stipulated quantity of food — what breeds fattened the most kindly, and would be found the most profitable. As for these bloated monsters, no part of the flesh is wholesome, and but little ever eatable. In Shropshire, Gloucestershire, Cheshire, Here- fordshire, Oxfordshire, and other counties, the old races of pigs have passed away, and crosses with the Bei'kshire, and also with the Essex and the Chinese, have taken their place. In short, the change is universal ; and even in the southern parts of Scotland, where formerly but few pigs were kept, and those of an inferior sort, excellent breeds prevail, and pigs are largely reared by the farmers. In the Channel Islands — Jersey, Guernsey, Alderney, and Sark — the pig is an important animal, pork being the staple animal food of the islanders during the winter. It is said to be very delicate, even more so than any in England. Al- most every cottager keeps a pig, and is enabled to feed it the more easily as his garden yields an abundant supply of produce. Pork sells at id. or 5d. per pound of 26 ozs. The Channel Island breed, once gaunt and coarse, and of French extraction, is now greatly improved, and fattens rapidly. The pigs are kept in sties, and fed during the spring and summer months on butter-milk, bran, potatoes, cabbages, and all kinds of vegetables ; in the autumn, almost e.x.clusively upon parsnips. Bacon hogs are generally killed at about twenty months old, and average from 300 to 450 lbs. Sometimes, however, hogs attain to a much larger size ; and instances have been known in which they have weighed 640 lbs., or 80 stones, Smithfield weight, exclusive of the offal. In the Isle of Man, the native breed closely approaches that of the Orkney and Shetland Isles. The animals resemble the wild boar in miniature, and roam about at liberty ; yet they fatten readily, and yield excellent meat. Within the last few years, crosses from England have been introduced, and the plan of sty-feeding has been practised ; but not, as it would appear, mth much success. It is now time that we turn to Ireland, whence so much of the salted pork and bacon sold in England is exported, and where, before the lamentable failure of the potato crops, the pig was an inmate of every cabin, on friendly terms with fowls and half-naked children, and respected as " the gintleman that pays the tint." Such porcine gintlemen are now rare tenants of a cotter's cabin ; but better days, it is to be trusted, will retm'u, when the pig and the potato plot will glad the cotter's heart. The modern Irish pig has, within the last few years, become greatly improved. Formerly, it was a gaunt, flat-sided, large-boned, rough beast, long in the leg, sharp along the spine, long in the snout, and with huge flapping ears. It was a slow feeder, and yielded coarse meat. Latterly, the introduction of some of our best breeds, with which to cross the old Irish swine, has been attended with decided success, although there is still room for further improvement. We have (not, however, in the years 1846 or 1847) tasted Irish bacon of very fair quality. The sides are sent, roughly salted, to certain houses in London (and other large towns), and are there finished off for the market. The greater portion of the Irish bacon lately to be seen in the shops was very ill-fed, lean, and coarse ; and the sides were rolled up, the better to conceal the scantiness and the want of firmness of the fat. TJie people were, in fact, obliged to kill their half-fattened, often their half- starved, pigs, their own means of subsistence failing. 471 But we must not judge liy the results of a national calamity. Irish bacon is not to be despised, and, as we have said, the breed of pigs is gene- rally much improved. Berkshire, Suffolk, Yorkshire, and even Chinese boars and sows, have been intro- duced, and, by hitercrossings, produced a consider- able change — a change, however, neither quite so decided nor quite so general as is desirable. Besides, the plan of fattening upon potatoes is not calculated to do justice to the most improved stocks. It is true that the Irish cotter treats the pig as one of his own family ; but then, his own family are fed also upon potatoes — would that another order of things was established ! The following observations, which may well bear repetition, appeared in the Penny Magazine, 1843, before the late failure of the staple crop, potatoes — a failure which crushed the cotter, and even blighted the prospects of the middling farmers : — "Ireland should be, one would think, a sort of paradise for pigs ; for there the useful ani- mal is treated with a degree of respect unknown to his brethren in England, though here his creature- comforts may he greater ; hut then his English owner looks rather to his own table as the animal's final destination, while the more disinterested Irish proprietor, generally speaking, has no such sordid considerations, for seldom does a bit of the flitch find its way into his pot. English ideas uf comfort are very comprehensive ; and many persons, like the late Mr. Cobbett, would scarcely let their pigs lodge in a less comfortable manner than they themselves could put up with on a pinch. In Ireland, the pig is joint-tenant and fellow-lodger with the peasant, feeding almost at the same board with him, and these pri\dleges are most cheerfully and gratefully conceded. ' Sure and doesn't he pay the rint ?' is the exclamation nearly all over Ireland. The English traveller may look with distaste at the arrangement which subsists hetween pig and proprietor, but soon he finds that a landholder might as well be without title-deeds as the holder of a patch of land without a grunting tenant to di%dde the cabin with him. ■' Mr Inglis, in his Journey tUrougliout Ireland, remarks : — ' I used to he shocked at seeing a pig's snout at a cabhi door, and looked at such a spec- tacle as a proof of ivretchedness ; but now I began to hless the sight, and to pity more the wretches who possessed no pig. It is true that things were still better when a pig-sty was visible ; for that gave evidence both of the existence of the pig, and of the superior comfort of its owner. But still it was always to me a pleasant sight, where, if no pig-sty was visible, I saw him that pays the ' rint' walk leisurely in and out of the caliin door, or heard his comfortable grunt within. The greatest example of individual prosperity I observed among the poor of the neighbourhood of Thomastown, was finding three pigs resident in one cabin.' " The Reports of the Assistant Commissioners under the Irish Poor Law Inquiry abound with facts showing the very great importance and value attached to the possession of a pig by the peasantry, and the attention which they pay him. One extract will be sufficient : — ' Whatever may be the poverty and privations of the labourer and his family, the pig is almost always sure to be coddled up with a good dinner, and a snug warm comer iu the cabin ; and the Assistant Commissioners have more than once been puzzled to decide whether his or the children's bed was composed of the cleanest and largest quantity of straw. The great importance of this animal to the labourer and the smallest occupier (their only means in almost all cases of paying their rent), is quite sufficient to account for the care and anxiety which are evinced to promote his thriving.' — [Appendix F., Poor Inquiry, p. 385.) "A very large proportion of the pigs reared iu Ireland find their way, either alive or cured, into the English market. Irish rents could not be paid but for English prices ; and, therefore, the Irish peasant, and small or large farmer, must dispose of his live stock for exportation to England, they themselves enjoying but a small portion of the fruits of their care and labour, as the bulk is absorbed in the payment of rent. As nearly eveiy head of a family amongst the rural population endeavours to obtain laud as the surest resource against starvation, the agricultural exports must of course be very large. Betweeu 1825 and 1835 they rose iu value from £9,243,823 to £16,693,685, being an increase of £7,449,862 a-year in the short space of ten years. This has been almost entirely the effect of steam-na\'igation, which has wonderfully facilitated the means of access to the English market fi-om Ireland; and, at the same time, increased the power of paying a high rent. Take pigs only, a source of rent as already shown, — in 1801 there were not two thousand imported from Ireland into all the ports of Great Britam ; and, ia the following years, as under : — 1805. 1809. 1813. 1817. 1821. Pigs imported 6,383 472 14,521 24,193 104,501. " In 1821 steam navigation was in its infancy, but it was already beginning to tell on the export trade in live stock. In 1837 its powers had increased to such an extent that the number of pigs brought alive from Ireland into the port of Liverpool only was 595,422, of the average value offifty shillings, making a gross sum of £1,488,555. — Porter's Progress of the Nation, vol. ii., p. 82. If we add the imports into Bristol, the number of pigs will probably be 700,000, and their aggregate value £1,750,000. There are no means of ascer- taining the imports at the other ports of Gi'eat Britain, as, since 18-25, the trade between the two countries has been assimilated to a coasting trade, and, except for corn and grain, no official returns are required to be kept. At the same time, the export of bacon and hams from J 825 to 1835 did not decrease, but it cannot be ascertained whether the quantity of pork exported fell off, though it probably did. The export trade in pigs is very active at all the eastern ports of Ireland. It is probable that more than sis-eighths of the total number received in Great Britain are imported at Liverpool. The cost of conveyance from Dublin to Liverpool is from \s. Gel. to 4s. per head, according to size, and from Drogheda to Liverpool, from Is. to 3s. On reaching Liverpool they are generally conveyed to ]\Ianchester by a railroad waggon, the weight carried being from 45 to 50 cwts. The weight of the pigs varies from | cwt. to 2 cwts., and the charge is about 25s. per waggon between the two towns. From Manchester the animals are conveyed by railways farther into the interior. In a provincial paper the following paragraph appeared, showing that the English country dealers find it answer their purpose to attend the pig-market at Liverpool : — ' Early on Tuesday morning a number of excellent bacon pigs were to be seen slaughtered in the shop of Mr. Barlow, Shamble Street, Barnsley, wliich were at Liverpool, above one hundred miles from that place, on Monday afternoon at five o'clock. This extraordinary piece of work was done by Mr. Thomas Fleetwood, pig-dealer, who left the Eoyal Oak Inn, Barnsley, at a quarter past five o'clock on Sunday afternoon, and consequently travelled upwards of two hundred miles in thirty- eight hours, and drove the pigs above six miles to and from the railway stations.' — Doncaster Gazette, 1843. The trade of a pork-butcher was comparatively unknown twenty years ago in many towns of large size, but it has been gradually increasing in extent and importance. It is, of course, quite a distinct calling from that of the dealer in bacon and hams. " The Irish bacon is not of such good quality as that fed in England, as the animal is generally fattened on potatoes only, while the best practice here is, when half fat, to finish off" with peas-meal or barley-meal. The agricultural labourers in counties where their condition is most comfortable, know that it is most profitable to buy the higher priced English bacon, which swells in the boiling, and is at once more palatable and substantia] than the potato-fed bacon of Ireland. In order to obtain the advantages of the English market, great improvements have taken place in the breed of jiigskeptin Ireland. ' The breed has been quite clianged within a few years, and is now excellent. The increase in the export of pigs from Ireland is more striking than that of any other article of produce, and to that degree have the tillage farmers profited by steam navigation.' — Lord Clement's PamjMet on Ireland, 1 838. "With respect to the pig-trade in Ireland itself, the amount of bargaining and dealing involved in the transfer of Irish pigs from their owners to the butcher and curer is far greater than is occasioned by the sale in a similar way of ten times the number of sheep ; for, in one case, pretty nearly every pig has a separate owner, while each flock-master has a number of sheep for sale at the same time. "The number of pig-jobbers and pig-drovers in Ireland is, of course, very large. The dealing is exactly of a description adapted to the commercial character of the Irish of a particular class. There is scope here for fun, 'blarney,' and cunning, and many a rich scene takes place before a bargain is struck. Mr. Iiiglis gives a specimen of the mode of proceeding m the market-place at Cashel : — 'A man, a pig-dealer, would come to a countryman who held a pig by a string. How much do you ask? — Twenty-eight shillings, the answer might be. Hold out your hand, says the buyer ; and the proprietor of the pig holds out his hand accordingly. The buyer places a penny in it, and then strikes it with a force that might break the back of an ox. Will ye take twenty shillings? The other shakes his head. Ask twenty-four, and see if I will give it ye, says the merchant. The owner again shakes his head. It is probable by this time that some one among the bystanders — for there is always a circle formed round a bargain- making — endeavours to accommodate matters ; for it is another instance of the kindly feeling towards each other, that all around are anxious that the bargain should be concluded. Again, says the merchant, hold out your hand — and ag.ain a tremendous blow is struck, and a new otfer made, till at last they come within a shilling, perhaps, of each other's terms, when the bargain is struck ; and the shilling about which they differed, and probably two or three others, are spent in whisky-punch screechinri hot.' The pigs are then most probably either driven to the shipping port, or to the large curing establish- ments, or sold to those who fatten and cure, but do not breed pigs." — 1843. What the state of the pig trade in Ireland at present is, and what the amount of the exports in bacon, hams, and live animals from that country into Great Britain may be, we have no means of ascertaining. Whatever decline may have recently taken place arises from a state of things in Ireland of which no one is ignorant ; the potato failure has indeed proved a most calamitous etent. Let us hope that plenty, tranquillity, and industry will soon renovate the condition of affairs, and that the pig once more may grace the sty, or, THE HOG. 473. A^< -=?^6- THE CHINESE if it be preferred, luxuriate in the cabin of the labourer. In our survey of the leading improved breeds of the British Islands, the Chinese pig has been often brought under notice. We have already sufficiently described it, but as it is naturalized in our country, a few remai-ks upon it may not be out of place. The Chinese pig is seldom kept in its pure state : its flesh indeed is exquisitely delicate, especially that of the sucking pigs ; and, though it fattens rapidly and at little cost, yet, from the unctuous character of the fat, the sides are not calculated for making prime bacon. Besides, the Chinese pig is tender, susceptible of cold, and difficult to rear, the more so as the sows do not generally make good nurses. At the same time, as a source of improvement among our indigenous breeds by judicious intercrossings, too much can- not be said in its praise ; indeed, it has been one of the most successful means of introducing reform among our old stocks ; it has corrected the faults of gauntness, of heavy bones, of slow feeding, of coarse flesh, and of a demse sward. True, it has caused a reduction in size, but not in hardiness, by its intercrossing; yet what advantages have not been gained by that very practice ? Now these ideas are not quite in accordance with those of Mr. George Culley (1807), and it is but just that we allow him to speak for himself. His words are, " The Chinese or black breed will always be valuable ; for, although they do not feed to any great weight, yet they fatten amazingly fast, and afford the sweetest bacon, which has gained the preference everywhere amongst the nice-eating people. Indeed, to those that have not been accustomed to the very fat bacon in the southern and midland counties, the very sight of it is enough to a person with a very delicate stomach, who cannot behold the very fat part of it without almost sickening, while the people in these counties eat it at all times of the day ; I have frequently seen them breakfast upon it. "The black breed are deservedly in great esteem, and would be much more so, were they not such a mischievous race ; for the most atten- tive herding (or tenting, as it is called in some parts of the south) can scarcely keep them from your fields of corn, peas, or potatoes : nothing will secure them except walls or good paling." How shall we defend our opinion against so able a farmer and so good a judge ? In the first place, in the year 1807 the grand movement of pig-improvement was barely commencing. Every- where the old breeds were common, and these, when fattened by dint of labour and at great ex- pense, were indeed huge masses of coarse fat and coarser lean. No wonder that the softer, fat- bearing, and delicately fleshed Chinese should have been greatly preferred, in the state of bacon, by "nice-eating people." But the result had yet to be accomplished, and soon — by the cross of this valuable stock— our native breeds began to assume a very different character, in fact, they became ameliorated ; their bacon was no longer coarse and disgusting from its rankness, and, as the improve- ment in the breeds made progress, so did that of the art of curing. We now hear of Wiltshire bacon, of Yorkshire hams, of Berkshire bacon, of 474 Gloucestershire bacon (as we can testify of no mean quality), of Hampshire bacon, to say nothing of other counties equal in all respects, as Essex, Lincolnshire, &c. (here, in fact, we might go through the greater part of England) ; but who asks now for Chinese bacon ? Where is it to be obtained ? Is there no Chinese-bred bacon ? Let this be our answer : — Yes ; but not purely so. The Chinese breed, amalgamating with the old Berkshire stock and others, has so much con- tributed to the attainment of excellence, that, in fact, the crosses throw, as far as bacon is con- cerned, the pure Chinese into the background, albeit to this strain the improvement is attri- butable. It is more than probable that, in Mr. G. Culley's time, the pigs he called Chinese were half-bred. At the present time we can safely aflirm that veiy few pure Chinese pigs are to be met with. We have seen them ; but that rather from a combination of circumstances, than because they were commonly spread ; indeed, we have seen specimens direct from China — comfortable, short-necked, thick-jowled, deep-bellied animals ; some black, some mottled, all under-sized, but very tame, and even intelligent. What Mr. G. Culley means by the Chinese being so " mis- chievous," we cannot tell ; all pigs will forage in good quai'ters, if liberty be given them. Thus, then, a strain of the Chinese breed does enter into the system of the varieties most cele- brated for the production of bacon, and since the days of Mr. G. Culley, if we may use a homely expression, " the tables have been turned." Cer- tain it is that the pure China-bred flitch may be sought for long, and then never found, in our markets, or among our dealers in bacon. Mr. G. Culley devotes a few lines to what he calls the Highland or Irish breed, which, he says, is " a kind no otherwise worth naming but for distinction's sake, for I am persuaded whoever is acquainted with the Berkshire or black bi-eeds will never throw those aside for these. They are a small thin-formed animal, with bristles standing up fi'om nose to tail, and exceedingly bad thrivers (no doubt upon such food as they had). W'^e met with considerable herds of them upon the mooi's in different parts of the Highlands of Scotland, picking up the wild berries, especially about Thurso, in Caithness. I have seen the same kind of pigs in different parts of Ireland." The semi-wild pig of the Highlands, and of the Orkneys and Hebrides, is a diminutive semi-wild animal, but it fattens rapidly on good and proper food, and makes excellent bacon. In some parts of Irelajid— the northern districts more especially — the same luue of pigs might then (1807) and may now be found (we allude to what we may truly call the Scotch province of Ulster), but such was not the ordinary huge, gaunt, flat-sided. coarse-bristled breed of this island, taken as a whole, in Mr. G. Culley's time. To the recent improvement of this stock we have already alluded. We are not, however, prepared to say that in some districts of western Ireland a breed resembling that of the Hebrides may not still linger. Thus far have we endeavoured to illustrate the various influential breeds of our own country, including Scotland, Ireland, and the smaller islands. To have rigidly analysed or rather attempted an analysis of the varieties peculiar to each county or district would have been folly — the thing is impossible. Mixtures and intermix- tures are pei'pelually taking place, and individuals are from time to time establishing their own favourite crosses. In every county is this system of improvement in operation ; the whole is fluctuating, yet the broad strong current bears on towards improvement. Nevertheless, in this tideway im- pulse, the strong hand of a judicious steersman is the more Jiecessary : the mark may be overshot. We mean that deficiency of profitable size, weak- ness of constitution, and infertility, may, unless judgment in crossing be exercised, deti'act from the merits of an othei-wise most valuable stock. It would be interesting could we truly ascer- tain the amount of property invested in the United Kingdom, not only in the porcine race, but in other descriptions of live stock ; all the attempts of the kind are merely approximations, yet they are not therefore valueless — they give at least general ideas on the subject, and not unfrequently surprise us. M' Queen, in his Statistics of the British Empire, has thus staled the enormous value of live stock in the United Kingdom, exclusive of domes- tic poultry (by-the-bye no trifle). It appears that there are 2,250,000 horses of the total value of £07,000,000, of which more than 1,500,000, are used in agriculture, and valued at £'45,000,000 ; the value of horned cattle in the kingdom is about 14,000,000, of the value of £210,000,000 ; the number of sheep 50,000,000, whose value is esti- mated at £67,000,000. The extent of the capital invested in swine is still more extraordinary when we reflect how little it is thought upon or taken into account. The number of pigs of all ages, rearing, and breeding, is calculated to be upwards of 18,000,000, which, taking one-third at £2 each, and the remainder at 10s. each, gives a value of £18,870,000, as the capital invested in pigs alone. This is of course only an approximation to the truth, for the stock of all our domestic quadrupeds is liable, from various circumstances, both to increase and decrease ; nevertheless, the state- ment, with every deduction, is calculated to excite some degree of surprise. Let it be remem- bered that the whole of the United Kingdom is included in this estimate. CHAPTER V. ON THE GENERAL MANAGEMENT OF SWINE. We have already said something respecting the principles to be adhered to in the selection of stock intended for breeding, nevertheless we have not stated the qualities which ought to be possessed by every animal from which it is desirable to breed. To rely on the terms Berkshire, Essex, Suffolk, improved Yorkshire, improved Bedfordshire, ifcc, as guarantees of tirst-rate qualities, would be folly. In all counties — even tliose the most renowned for their breeds — there are both good and bad, and even of the best breeds some are inferior to the others, and ought to be rejected as unfit for be- coming the parents of a lineage. We have seen, though rarely, scurvy-looking animals both in Berkshire and Essex ; but, setting these aside as animals from which no man in his senses would think of breeding, still the question remains, how ought he to choose, with the best stock at his selection ? The folio whig rules will apply to all breeds : — Fertility. The strain from which the farmer or breeder selects ought to be noted for fertility. In a breeding sow this quality is essential, and it is one which is inherited. The same observation applies to other domestic animals. But besides this she should be a careful mother, and with a sufficient number of dugs for a fiimily of twelve at a single litter. A young untried sow will generally display in her instincts those which have predominated in the race from which she has descended, and the number of the teats can be counted. Both boar and sow should be sound, healthy, and in fair but not over fat condition, and the former should be from a stock in which fertility is a characteristic. Form. It may he that the farmer has a breed which he wishes to perpetuate ; it is highly improved, and he sees no reason for immediate crossing. But, on the other hand, he may have an excellent breed, with certain defects, as too long in the limb, or too heavy in the bone. Here, we should say, the sire to be chosen, whether of a pure or cross breed, should exhibit the opposite qualities, even to an extreme, and be, withal, one of a strain noted for early and rapid fattening. Biit what is meant by form, as applied to the pig? A development of those points connected with the profit of the owner. In these points, high or low blood is demonstrated. The head should be small, high at the forehead, short and sharp in the snout, with eyes animated and lively, and thin, sharp, upright ears ; the jowl, or cheek, should be deep and full ; the neck should be thick and deep, arch gracefully from the back of the head, and merge gradually into a broad breast ; the shoulders should be set well apart at the clavicular joint ; the body should be deep, round, well barrelled, with an ample chest, broad loins, and a straight, flat, broad back ; the tail should be slender ; the hams should be round, full, and well developed ; the limbs, fine-boned, with clean small joints ; and with small compact hoofs, set closely ! together, with a straight bearing upon the ground. I If in perfect health, the animal will be lively, j animated, hold up his head, and move freely and I nimbly. We do not speak of fat hogs, for they are necessarily sluggish and unwieldy ; nor yet of pregnant sows, but of young store hogs, or of young stock selected for breeding. Bristles. These should be fine, rather scanty, so as to show the skin smooth and glossy ; coarse, wiry, rough bristles usually accompany heavy bones, large spreading hoofs, and flaiJping ears, and thus become one of the indicia of a thick- skinned and low breed. Colour. Different breeds of high excellence have their own colours, white, black, parti-coloured black and white, sandy, mottled with large marks of black, are the most prevalent. A black skin, with short scanty bristles, and small stature, demonstrate the prevalence of the Neapolitan strain, or the black Chinese, or perhaps an admix- ture of both. Many prefer white ; and in sucking pigs destined for the table, and for porkers, this colour has its advantages, the sward, or skin, looks more attractive ; nevertheless, we think that the sward of black hogs is in general thinner than that of white hogs, and less subject to eruptive diseases. Having thus pointed out tlie characters of such pigs as ought to be chosen, whether for feeding or for breeding, let us next turn to the accommoda- tion to be provided for them. Any place is thought good enough for a pig, no matter how dark, damp, or filthy it may be, and in such places we have seen pigs kept. But what has been the consequence ? — Diseases of the skin, swellings of the joints, dulness, and loss of eager healthy appetite ; often, after being slaughtered, the intestines are found infested by parasitic worms. So far from any place being good enough for a pig, much of the animal's health and ultimate profitableness depends on the domicile in which it is kept. For a cottager who keeps only one or two pigs, a well-built wind and waternrnof sty or shed for a dormitory, in an enclosure for air E e 2 476 and exercise as large as convenient, -will suffice. The feeding trough should be made of stone, as ■wooden troughs are liable to be gnawed, and are often knocked over when half full of food by the snout of the pig, either by accident or in wanton- ness. It would be well also to give the animal access to a stone receptacle of clean water ; for though much water should not be given to a pig during the progress of fattening, still the animal should never be allowed to suffer from thirst ; nothing tends more than thirst to derange the digestive organs, and prevent the animal from thriving. The floor of the whole sty and yard should be well paved with brick, and incline to a drain, both for the sake of dryness and facility of cleaning. The manure, liquid as well as moi-e solid, should be put into a manure-pit for the future benefit of the garden. A sufficient quantity of straw should be spread on the floor of the dormitoiy, and all should be clean, even the trough, which should be washed out every day. The door should be made to open inwards ; otherwise, if not vei7 strongly secured, it is liable to be forced open by the animal, and much mischief may be done in the garden before any one is aware of it. Pigs are very fond of rubbing their sides and shoulders against convenient objects, and this, as it excites the circulation of the blood in the vessels of the skin, is very beneficial ; hence, a short stout post driven into the ground by one of the side walls of the little yard or enclosure would be a serviceable and unexpensive addition. The sty should not be exposed to the north and easterly winds ; at the same time it should be shaded from the mid-day glare of a hot summers sun. Such a sty as we have described, a cottager may build for himself ; it will cost little, excepting his own labour ; his objects are the comfort of the animal, and the saving of the manure ; and the latter object, in particular, is too often neglected, as is also the cleanliness of the sty altogether. The above remarks apply more especially to the cottager, but are not quite applicable, except- ing as far as principle goes, to the farmer who finds it profitable to keep many pigs, or the brewer, or distiller, or milk-merchant, upon whose establish- ments great numbers of these animals are kept. The farmer may find a range of simple sties simi- lar to what we have just described to be convenient, with larger accommodations for breeding sows, and ata exclusive and well-secured domicile for th.e boar. The young pigs, and porkers, with the sows, will have ■' the advantage of a farm-yard or large straw-yard, in which they may indulge themselves according to their natural instincts. They must of course be stied up for fattening: but before this process commences they may be turned into the cut wheat fields in autumn, or into the oak copses (if there be such), not however without being under surveil- lance. The air and the moderate exercise taken in searching for a scanty but excellent kind of food, will render their repast when driven home in the afternoon most acceptable. The farmer, however, and the brewer or milk-merchant (we mean the great milk-dealers in the neighbourhood of London), are diff"erently situated. In the latter cases, a well-arranged series of airy cleanly sties is impera- tive, especially for pigs above the size of sucklings, for even in such establishments the latter may be allowed some degree of liberty. System and order should prevail. There should be a proper place in which to mix and boil the food, with one or more large coppers and straining apparatus. The food should be mixed in square brick tanks, sunk in the ground and cemented, in order that no filtration of the more fluid parts may take place. If there is only one tank there should be a parti- tion in it. From the boiling house there should be an immediate communication with the sties, under cover if possible — but an out-house close to the sties, with a loft for roots, &c. may be made available. Each sty should open into a small yard behind, enclosed with a low wall or paling, but with a strong door. There should be separate sties for breeding sows, for porkers, and fattening hogs. Not more than three or four of the latter should be in one sty. The food should be given in troughs, in a separate compartment from that in which the hogs lie down, and no litter should be allowed there. The floor should be of brick or stone, should be frequently washed clean, and the troughs should be cleaned out before every meal. Any of the food left from the last meal should be taken out and given to the store pigs. A very convenient contrivance for keeping the troughs clean is to have a flap or door made with hinges, so that it can swing, and alternately be fastened by a bolt to the inside or outside edge of the trough. When the hogs have fed sufficiently, the door is swung back, and the trough easily cleaned out. It remains on the outer side of the door till feeding time ; when the food is poured in without any impediment from the greedy hogs, who cannot get at it till the door is swung back. This simple contrivance saves a great deal of trouble, and is easily adapted to any common sty. It is a great advantage to be able to inspect the sties without going into them, and this is etfected by placing them under a common roof, which may conveniently be a lean-to to the boiling house or any other building, with a passage between them. The subjoined sketches will convey a general idea of the plan. A different arrangement is recommended by Mr. Henderson. " Have a house thirty feet by fifteen, with four doors all opening outwards, and three partition walls through the house, viz., a wall between each of the doors dividing the house 477 SCALE OF FEET. A, root-house; B, boiliug and skamini; house; a, steamer; 6, copper; c, c. steaming-vessels ; d, d, tanks to mix the food ; C, passage to the sties; 1,1, feeding-rooms; 2,2, sleeping-rooms; 3, 3, yards. iuto four compartments. The two middle ones I use for eating rooms, and the others for sleeping apartments, having an inner door between each eating and sleeping apartment. By this plan the keeper is enabled to get the eating chambers swept out, the troughs cleaned, and the food put into them, without disturbing the swine or being disturbed by them. There should be a division wall through each sleeping apartment; in the hinder part should be the litter, and the front and smaller compartment, through which the animals must pass to get to their food, may be used by them as a kind of necessary, for these animals will never defile their beds if they can avoid it. " The follo\ring is the most convenient manger for their food. Let it be as long as the house is wide, and fi.x;ed against the middle wall, in form similar to a horse manger, but not so deep, and it must be divided into twelve divisions, by parti- tion boards four feet m length or height, and a little broader than the manger is wide ; thus a number will feed together as well and quietly as two or three. Before every meal the trough should be well washed and the place swept, and once in the day a little fresh litter placed in the sleeping chambers. Each of these sleeping and eating rooms may be temporarily divided into two should it be requisite. The sleeping rooms should be dark, as animals fatten much more rapidly when they lie down and sleep after each meal, than when they wander about. There should be a square yard to each piggery, well paved and drained, as should the sties be also ; and where it is possible an enclosure or small piece of ground adjoining is e.Kceedingly useful. " Those who have space to admit of it will find it advantageous to have five apartments instead of four, and in the fifth or central one to have a boiler to prepare the food, and chests or lockers to contain the various stores." In these expensive plans we see no advantage over a range of well-built sties of the ordinary kind, of convenient size, adjoining a steaming- shed and root house or loft, and with an adjoining field or paddock for the use of the young and store pigs. Where numerous pigs are kept it will be advantageous to have a double row of sties, with a paved alley between them ; there should be good drainage, by which all refuse is carried off to a manure pit, and the greatest cleanliness should be maintained. Sue breeding sows, giving each two litters per annum, will produce yearly upwards of a hundred pigs ; of these fifty or sixty may be fattened at the latter part of autumn, through the winter, and during the months of February and March, for bacon ; the younger brood may be killed as porkers, or sold off as stores. With respect to the steaming apparatus, it will be found available for other animals on the farm, as horses, ifcc, to which steamed potatoes and other roots may be profitably allowed. There is no reason why it should be devoted exclusively to the pigs. We need not repeat that the breeding sows should be kept each by itself in a large and com- modious sty, and that the store and fattening pigs should have their respective tenements. Some recommend that the floor of the sleeping shed be made of planks, as bricks are cold and apt to induce cramp or diarrhoea ; certainly wood is pre- ferable to bricks, but we think that the paving of the whole sty might consist of asphalte. Where bricks are used they should be set in cement, in order that no filtration may take place through the interstices, and thereby keep the soil under- neath in a state of wetness, whence noxious gases will necessarily arise and generate disease, to the great loss of the farmer. Both bricks and wood are more or less porous, but not so asphalte ; the latter therefore will form a dry floor, easily cleaned, and one moreover which in common language will not "strike cold." Another thing is desirable, namely, that the roof of the sty, whether composed of slate, tiles, or slabs of stone, should have a gutter in order to carry off the rain ; this may be easily contrived, and at little expense, and will often keep the sty from being flooded. From the piggery, we may now turn to \hefood on which the pig is to be brought up and fattened. THE REFUSE OF THE SLAUGHTER-HOUSE. Tlie hog is an omnivorous animal — and will even greedily devour flesh, and garbage, and butchers and even others are in the habit of feed- ing tlieir pigs upon blood, entrails, offal meat, and similar matters. It is a disgusting practice, but besides this it is essentially wrong ; such diet ren- ders the animal savage and dangerous, a child accidentally straying within the reach of a hog thus fed would be by no means safe from a ferocious assault ; moreover, it keeps the animal in a state of feverish excitement, and leads to inflammatoiy diseases. Again as it respects the meat, it is rank, coarse, and scarcely wholesome. Pigs are often kept in knacker's yards, where they revel in corruption. What must their flesh be ! THE REFUSE OF THE KITCHEN. The same objections do not apply to jJot-liquor or kitchen-refuse, for although there is a good por- tion of fat, bits of meat, and skin, and the liquor in which meat has been boiled, still it has been cooked, and is mi.xed with the peelings of pota- toes, carrots, turnips, cabbage-leaves, bread, milk, &c., &c., and forms an acceptable mess. The cottager who keeps a pig or two, often depends upon the kitchen-refuse of his richer neighbours, who may be inclined to allow him to place a "hog- tub" on their premises. Some however refuse ; they allege, and not without reason, that it en- courages waste in the kitchen, and not only so, it occasions the loss eveiy now and then of a silver spoon, which is carelessly thrown into the wash with the scrapings of dishes and plates. On the other hand, it is a pity that this wash, so valuable to the cottager, should be denied, and indeed thrown away. Surely it is our bounden duty to aid the industrious poor man in his honest endea- vours, and it is his duty to see that those who serve him suffer no loss. Not many weeks since a silver spoon, missing for some days, was brought back to us by a cottager who foimd it in the hog- tub which we allowed him to keep in our yard — a pleasing, and, we would hope, not a rare instance of integrity. THE REFUSE OF THE D.\1RY. The 7-efuse of the dairy is noted for its import- ance both in the fattening of porkers and bacon- hogs. The very term of " dairy-fed pork" conveys an idea of delicacy ; it has a pleasant sound, we associate it with the idea of meat pleasant to look upon and delicious to the taste, and not without cause; true dairy-fed pork is indeed a luxury, it causes no indigestion, and sits easily on the stomach. Celsus says, " Inter domesticas vero quadrupedes levissima suilla est" — that is, among domestic quadnipeds the lightest meat is pork; and as far as young daiiy-fed pork is concerned we agree with the Roman physician. If, however, people will overload it with a stuffing of rank onions, they must take the consequence — and brandy. All have not the " dura messorum ilia." The refuse of the daiiy consists of butter-milk, whey, and skim-milk, and these, mixed with the flour of steamed potatoes, Indian com, pea-meal, barley-meal, &c. constitute a diet of the most nu- tritious quality for fattening. Such food, however, should not be administered to store pigs ; it is decidedly a fattening diet, and pigs accustomed to it do not thrive well when it is withheld and inferior food substituted. No one indeed would think of supplying mere store pigs with such luxurious food. On this diet some of the fattest porkers of thirteen, fifteen, or twenty weeks old, which we have ever seen, have been reared, as well as bacon-hogs under the age of fifty-two weeks.— (See the list of the Prize Pigs for 18-10 and 1847, at p. 409.) THE REFUSE OF THE CORN-MILL. Having spoken of the refuse of the dairy, that of the corn-mill may be taken into consideration. The large miller, and the large dairy farmer, whether cheese or butter be his staple production, find swine a profitable stock. The very sweepings of the mill are thus made by the miller to return a profit ; he may have to purchase whey, or butter- milk, or skim-milk, from the farmer, but the latter has to purchase barley-meal, &c. from the miller, or at least to pay him for grinding it. THE REFUSE OF THE STARCH MANUFACTORY. Among other substances available for swine is the refuse of the starch mamifactory, that is, of the wheat-flour used in the production of this sub- stance. We ourselves have never seen it em- ployed ; it is said to be extremely nutritious, the animals fattening on it with great rapidity, and yielding very firm and substantial bacon. At the same time it is apt to cloy the appetite, and there- fore should be given alternately with food of a different quality ; indeed in all cases alternation of food is highly desirable, as the stomach palls upon one exclusive kind. The best method of prcsei-v- ing the paste deprived of the starch is to make it up into cakes and bake it. We do not, however, here speak from our own knowledge, for we have never seen this nfuse used. As is evident, it can only be employed locally and not generally ; it is said to be far superior to the refuse grains and wash of the brewery or distillery. THE REFUSE OF THE BREWERY AND DISTILLERY. Pigs are usually kept in considerable numbers by the proprietors of large breweries and dis- 479 tilleries ; nevertheless these refuse grains and wash are not well adapted for sound fattening, unless mixed or alternated with other food, as pollard, barley-meal, &c. It is trae that the animals become in good apparent condition, but their fat is llabby, and does not swell on being boiled, as the fat of good bacon ought to do. With respect to the refuse of the distilleries, especially the wash, it ought to be very cautiously given ; if allowed too liberally, the animals reel from sheer intoxication, especially until they are accustomed to it, and we cannot but think its influence on the healthy condition of the animals to be injurious. " Neuenhahn says that the refuse of the brandy distillery cannot be given to the pigs too warm, or too soon after its removal from the still, and that it never heats their blood; but that if it be allowed to get cold and stale, it is rather injurious than beneficial to them. On the other hand, many experienced distillers who fatten large numbers of hogs, assure us that it requires great attention, and the employment of a man on whose care they can rely, to prevent this residue from being given to the animals while too warm, for it is then that it injures, and materially retards their growth." — You.\tt. This wash is not a natui-al food ; it is not one which they will at first take willingly, nor can wo regard it as beneficial ; the pigs may indeed become bloated, but not covered with firm solid fat, it must impair their digestive powers, and render the liver toi-pid and perhaps swollen ; mixed with water and barley-meal, or other farinaceous food, it may be admissible, but this is the best that can be said of it. GREEN AND DEIED VEGETABLES. There are many vegetables useful in the feed- ing of pigs, amongst which may be enumerated clover, sainfoin, lucern, chicory, tares, vetches, pea-haulm, cabbages, turnip-tops, &c. ; it is de- sirable that these, when given, should be cut up small, and mixed with the wash — indeed simply cut up, with a little salt scattered among it, and occasionally mixed with a little pollard, it consti- tutes a good diet for store pigs, where the aim is not to fatten them but to keep them in fair condition. Indeed it is not advisable to render store pigs too fat or high in flesh ; they grow larger, and their symmetry is better developed, by moderat3 diet than by full feeding, and afterwards, when put up to fatten for bacon, they thrive rapidly on the increased quantity and quality of the nutriment. Clover or lucern hay, cut up small and mixed with the wash, is also recommended, and, where it is practicable, an occasional or indeed a frequent run on good grass land tends to the advantage of the animals. There are some wild plants, as the sow-thistle {sonchus) and others, of which swine are very fond, yet it would appear that these animals, omnivorous as they are, are choice in the selection of their vegetable fare, rejecting many plants on which the horse, ox, sheep, and goat will feed with avidity. It is remarkable that although the hog will champ the fresh green shells of peas, it does not swallow the tough inner lining, and only drains a\\ay the saccharine juice, rejecting the rest. Among the roots given to pigs in our island, potatoes take tlie first place ; indeed, on looking over the articles of diet on which the pigs of the cattle-shows of ll=t46 and 1847 were fed, no other root is mentioned. These should always be steamed and mashed, and mixed with whey or skimmed milk, with the addition of middlings, barley-meal, peas, &c. Pigs, as we have previously intimated, however apparently well fed on potatoes, do not produce firm bacon, which swells greatly in boiling. Hence potatoes ought to form a portion only of their diet, nor indeed are they essentially necessary. In the Channel Islands the store pigs are fattened almost entirely upon boiled parsnips, and they attain to an enormous size, yielding good bacon. Among other roots we may mention carrots, turnips, especially Swedish tuniips, and beet-root. All these roots should be boiled, but may be given raw, though not so advantageously. Carrots are highly esteemed by many, and no doubt contain a considerable quantity of nutri- ment, and in addition to meal may be used with advantage, especially when potatoes are dear and scarce in consequence of a general failure in the crops. They might, even when given alone, with the addition of whey, or butter- milk, or skim-milk, make the animal reasonably fat, as in the instance of parsnip feeding, but we should doubt whether the quality of the bacon would prove first-rate. The same observations apply to Swedish turni-^is, which are extolled by some as superior to potatoes ; indeed a writer in the Farmer's Gazette for November, 1841, who dates from Ballymore, near Arklow (Ireland), and who for many years has been in the habit of feeding pigs for tlie Liverpool and Dublin markets, bears testimony to the excellence of steamed Swedish turnips; and though he acknowledges his pigs are rather behindhand than otherwise, yet he describes them as thriving fairly, and at one-half of the expense incurred by the use of potatoes in their stead. He allows them a plentiful supply of the steamed turnips, with a little broken corn and wheat chaff, and about a pint of butter-milk to every three pigs, and considers that by the Christmas of that year, his hogs will average from 4 cwt. to 4i cwt. 480 What will be the character of the bacon pro- duced by such diet is another thing ; an animal may be made fat, but the fat may be soft, oily, and waste in boiling — and indeed such is the character of Irish bacon generally. No roots, without a due admixture of fari- naceous food, as pollard, barley-meal, peas, &c., will produce first-rate bacon, and indeed in the finishing off, or last stage of feeding, it is better to omit the roots altogether, and give only peas, barley-meal, whey, &c. The same observations apply to pork ; even young delicate dairy-fed pork requires to be finished off on a mixture of fari- naceous food with the refuse of the dairy, in order that the meat may acquire a due degree of firmness. In this respect as well as in age pork differs from the sucking pig; in the latter, tenderness and succulency are in the extreme, they render the young creature, when well cooked, one of the most delicate of " all the delicacies of the whole mundus edibilis ; " but, as Lamb says, the fat is not to be called fat, "but an undefinable sweetness growing up to it — fat cropped in the bud, taken in the shoot, in the first innocence, the cream and the quintessence of the pig-child's yet pure food." THE CEHEALIA OR GRAIN, AND BEANS AND PEAS. By the cerealia we mean rye, barley, oats, wheat, Indian corn or maize, rice, and all their varieties, under whatever name they may be dis- tinguished. To dwell upon the nutritive qualities of grain in general would be useless. The value of barley-meal, middlings, mill-sweepings, &c., in the feeding of pigs, is too well known to require comment. It is true that this food is expensive, but then it is not used exclusively till the time for finishing off, or need not be ; and, what is more, the expense is repaid by the gain of the animal in weight, and by the great superiority of the meat, which will command its price in the market. The rapid increase in the weight of pigs fed upon barley-meal, peas, steamed potatoes, with whey or butter-milk, is astonishing. They have been known to increase at the rate of 3^ lbs. (live weight) per day, and often at the rate of 2 or 2\ lbs. Here is some remuneration certainly for extra expense, even if the finishing off be entirely on meal and skim-milk. There is only one legitimate way of giving barley, and that is in the form of meal, made into porridge with lukewarm milk, whey, or water, to which potato-meal may be added or not, as is deemed desirable. To give the grain in a raw- state, or even bruised, or infused in water till it begins to swell and germinate, is, we consider, very disadvantageous ; it is, in fact, attended by two evils — in the first place, the greedy animal does not sufficiently grind down the food for the complete extraction of all its nutriment; and. secondly, semi-champed grain is liable to produce indigestion, loss of appetite, and fever. The same effects are produced by mixing the meal with boiling fluid, which converts it into a sort of dough or paste, very unfit for being taken into the stomach. Some recommend that the meal be mixed with cold water in large cisterns, the proportion being five bushels of meal to a hundred gallons of water. This mixtui'e must be stirred several times a-day for a fortnight or three weeks, until an imperfect fermentation takes place, and it becomes acescent. In this state its fattening powers are said to be greatly increased ; but the ordinary way is to mix the meal with lukewarm water, or whey, or butter- milk (pea-meal or potato-flour being added or not), and give it in the form of a thick soup to the animals. In 1846, a pen of three Coleshill pigs, exhibited by the Earl of Radnor, and which gained the first prize (£10, silver medal to breeder, and gold medal for the best pen of pigs), was fed on forty-eight bushels of barley-meal mixed with whey, and about six bushels of potatoes. The pigs were forty-five weeks and one day old. Next to barley- meal, oatmeal may be ranked in order, and in some counties it is largely given. We have seen the meal made up into good-sized balls with warm water, and given to the pigs in butter-milk or kitchen-wash, with decided advantage. It may be made into a sort of thick gruel with wash or whey, &c., or it may be mixed with water, set to leaven, and given in an acescent state. Maize takes a high rank among the articles, under the title of cerealia, used for feeding pigs. It is little, if at all, inferior to barley, and the animals are very fond of it. It may be ground into meal, or given in its natui'al state, after being soaked for some time in water, either alone, or in the wash, or in gruel. On many parts of the continent, and in America especially, where many varieties of maize or Indian corn are extensively cultivated, the flesh of pigs, and also poultiy, fed upon maize has a peculiarly fine flavour. Maize is not much grown in England. A writer on maize gives us the following account : — " It seems that there is a particular line on the continent of Europe north of which the maize does not thrive. To the south of this line, which passes through Nancy, fonnerly the capital of Lorraine in France, it has, in a great measure, superseded wheat and rye as the common produce of the land. The bread made from maize is not so palatable as wheat or rye bread ; but by mix- ing it in certain proportions with wheat it makes a very pleasant food. In the United States of North America, Indian corn forms almost the only bread eaten by many of the people ; and in the slave states it is the only bread that the negroes eat. It is not, however, in the shape of 481 baked bread that maize is most generally used in Europe, but in boiled messes aud soups, as peas are with us. It is not only the ripe grain which is eaten, but the ear in every state, from that of a green vegetable to an unripe corn. It is boiled, stewed, and baked. It is a substitute for green peas and cabbage in its early stage, and is used in some way or other to its complete maturity. No- thing can be better than ripe maize to fatten hogs or poultry with, and the young stem, cut down quite green, gives one of the best and most abun- dant varieties of green food for cattle." Occasionally rice has been used for fattening pigs, but we can say nothing respecting its advan- tages from personal obsei-vation. One great ob- jection to this article would be its expense, and we should not think it equal to barley-meal, although we admit that it abounds in nutriment. The proper way to prepare it is to put the rice into boiling water (two ordinary pailfuls to about forty gallons of water), and let the whole stand for several hours till it is cold. The lice will then be found to have swelled amazingly, and to be com- pacted mto a mass so firm as to admit of being taken out by means of a shovel. In this state it may be given to the pigs, either with whey, milk, &c., or by itself; a certain portion of potatoes mashed after steamhig may be added. The flesh of pigs fed on rice is said to have proved very superior. It is not, however, mentioned as having entered into the diet of any of the pigs exhibited at the Smithfield Club Cattle Show, either for 1840 or 1847. Peas and heans, either in their green state, or dried and bruised, or ground into meal, are among the best articles of food for fat- tening swine. Pea-meal, that is, the meal of the gray pea, or gray peas bruised, are in the highest esteem. Pea-meal may be given alone, or added to the barley-meal, or to the steamed potatoes. Buckwheat [Polygonum fagopyrum) is not very generally cultivated in our island, it is however growi in Norfolk and Suffolk. It is not well adapted for cold wet soils, but flourishes on warm light sandy land ; hence on many parts of the continent where the land is poor and light, unfavourable to the growth of oats, and not rich enough for barley, buckwheat is a great resource. As a principal crop therefore it is confined to some parts of the south of France, and other countries similar in soil and situation ; it is sown as a secon- dary and occasional crop in Switzerland, Germany, and Flanders. In England, as we have said, it is seldom sown, except in Norfolk and Sufi'olk ; although small patches are occasionally to be met with elsewhere, for the sake of encouraging pheasants, which are particularly partial to the grain. Buckwheat as a grain may be given to horses, mixed with oats or by itself. No grain is more greedily devoured by poultry, or makes them lay eggs so early or so abundantly. The meal is excel- lent for fattening pigs, and the flour, though from its deficiency of gluten it does not make good fermented bread, is much used on the contment for pastry, cakes, and such delicacies. With respect to rye little need be said ; occasionally pigs are fed upon rye-meal ; in England very little rye com- paratively speaking is grown, aud then chiefly as a green crop for early spring fodder. SEEDS OF VAEIOUS VEGETABLES, FRUITS, &C. Linseed cake, or oil-cake as it is called, is occasionally given to pigs, aud sometimes linseed meal, or steeped linseed, but only in small quanti- ties, and in addition to food destitute of oil, as potatoes, pea-meal, &c. Oilcake is used largely in the fattening of horned cattle, but whether it is equally advantageous in the fattening of pigs is not very clear. Linseed is only twice mentioned as forming part of the diet of the pigs of the show for 1840 (No. 230 and 242); it is not mentioned in the catalogue of 1847 as far as the pigs are concerned. Beechmast is eagerly devoured by pigs, and in places where this is abundant, it will be well to turn store pigs upon it, or collect it for their use ; it will keep them in fair condition, but not fatten them, or rather not load them with firm fat ; never- theless it is an article of diet not to be despised, be it understood as an adjunct aud not a principal article. It is the favourite food of the squirrel — and where beech woods are extensive, there that graceful little creature is numerous. But though pigs thrive on this food, it will not make firm fat, unless mixed largely with acorns ; these, as we have seeu, are often given raw, as they fall from trees spontaneously or are beaten down. But this is not the best plan ; acorns should be collected and dried, and then slowly baked, crushed, and afterwards boiled into a sort of gruel with a little salt; this food is excellent. But we count not upon it in England, our great oak woods are gone, and it is only here and there that a farmer may thus add to his store of pig-food. ■ Formerly it was otherwise — " Gone the merry moms den, Gone the song of Gamelyn, Gone the tough-belted outlaw Idling in the grene-shaw. A 11 are gone away, and past, And if Robin should be cast . Sudden from his tufted grave. And if Marian should have Once again her forest days, She would weep, and he would craze ; He would swear, for all his oaks, Fall'n beneath the dockyard's strokes, Have rotted on the briny seas !" Keats. Well, if our oakwoods be fewer and narrower, lands and our arable lands ai'e broader, 482 and the true system of managing cattle has attained to the rank of a science. A nm in oak copses ought not to be neglected, however, at the time of the fall, by a farmer who has the opportunity of sending his store pigs into the wood. We have already alluded to the pigs of the New Forest. Only one mention of acorns occurs in the catalogues of the cattle-shows of 1846 and 1847; it is in 1847. " 181. Mr. Charles Eley, sen., of Heathfield Farm, near Hounslow, Middlesex — A pen of three 13 weeks and 3 days old improved Berkshire pigs, bred by himself, and fed on barley-meal, acorns, and skimmed milk." We cannot help thinking that ai-orns are too much neglected : we have seen them gathered largely in the neighbourhood of Dorking, and no doubt the cottagers found this produce to their advantage. Chestnut trees are not gro^vn in vast numbers in our island ; in Greenwich Park indeed we are struck with their magnificent stems, and bright glossy foliage, and for ourselves, we never saw so many elsewhere on an equal circle of ground. In England, chestnuts as food for pigs are out of the question. This is not the case, however, in many parts of the continent, where these trees are abundant, and indeed where they form portions of woods, and flourish as the towering trees of copses. There the chestnut tree affords an abundant supply, both for men and swine, and the latter are bountifully supplied with it; it is seldom given raw, but roasted, or steamed, or parboiled into a pulp, then crushed and divested of the outer shell. By the conversion of it into a potato-like meal the nutri- tive qualities of this fruit are greatly improved, and it is thereby better fitted for the digestive action of the stomach. With respect to apples, pumpkins, and even peaches, which in some parts of America are lavishly given to swine, we have little to say. Apples in their raw state may keep up the flesh of store pigs (turned in orchards to devour the ■wind-falls) ; and boiled apples mked with potatoes, Indian-corn flour, or buckwheat, will no doubt prove nutritious, and in America constitute a cheap diet, but the case is different in England ; and as for pumpkins and peaches, we have no observations to make ; we doubt their fitness for feeding swine, and what is more, they are not in our country plentiful as blackberries, which latter, by-the- bye, might be found quite as beneficial. In North Africa, as before intimated, the wild boar makes incursions into the melon-grounds, and we can conceive that melons abounding with saccharine matter are grateful to the palate of the wild hog, and so no doubt are apples, pumpkins, and peaches, but they do not enter into the English bill of fare for pigs. At the same time, we object not to the plan of tmniing pigs into apple orchards in order that they may pick up the fallen fruit. We may here notice a few other articles which do not come under any precise head. One of these is hay-tea, or rather an infusion of clover, sainfoin, or lucern hay, which is by many recom- mended as an e.vcellent vehicle for mixing with other food. It may be thickened with potato flour, steamed carrots, boiled cabbages, barley, or oatmeal, and for store pigs, in particular, it is said to be excellent, not only as keeping the animals in first-rate condition, but as saving more expensive kinds of food which must otherwise be given. Another article is sah. Salt is almost essen- tial to health ; it stimulates the appetite, it aids the operation of digestion, and all cattle are partial to it. A little salt should, therefore, be scattered into the food before it is given to the animal. It is, however, verj' singular, that though salt is so wholesome, brine in which pork or bacon has been piclded, is poisonous to pigs. We have never ourselves seen the poisonous effects of brine ; but there are several cases on record in which these animals have died, in consequence, as Mr. Youatt affirms, of a small quantity of brine having been mingled with the wash, under the mistaken impression that it would answer the same purpose, and be equally as beneficial as is the admixture of a small quantity of salt. We know not how to account for this, and we take it upon authority. We must not here exclude earth or calcareous matters fi-om our consideration. With the roots which a pig ploughs up in the ground and devours, a small quantity of earth is necessarily swallowed, the calcareous particles of which act beneficially by correcting any acidity in the stomach. Pigs put up to fatten, highly fed, and taking little or no exercise, are very liable to acidity of the stomach, and loss of appetite as a consequence. IMptiy breeders, aware of this, give the animals Gcciistonally ashes or cinders, which they champ anl swallow ; or turn them out now and then upon a patch of ground, over which lime or chalk has been freely sprinkled, in which they root and pick up morsels, which, with the lime and particles of earth, are swallowed. It is not a bad plan to mix occasionally a little magnesia in the wash or milk ; this will very effectually correct acidity. These observations, which to some, perhaps, may appear strange, apply not only to the hog but our domestic graminivorous animals generally. Oxen and sheep necessarily swallow particles of earth ; calves are fond of licking chalk, as if impelled or directed by instinct in the act ; and we have seen horses pull up little tussocks of grass or herbage, and swallow the sandy earth adhering in not a trifling quantity to the roots, and that with evident satisfaction ; nay, choice was exercised in the 489 selection, ourselves being witnesses. Here, then, we have another reason why a run from time to time in the fields given to hogs is advisable ; with every root, every pig-nut that they swallow, they take in a portion of earth. We may state, having men- tioned the pig-nut, that there are two species in England which afford the tuberous roots so greedily devoured by swine, viz. — Bunlum bidbocastanum, and B.Jiexuosiwi. The extirpation of these umbel- liferous plants from fields and meadows is very desirable ; in this the hog does good service. Tbe plants are not eaten by cattle ; and are in fact noxious if not poisonous, but the tuberous root is sweet and perfectly wholesome. We have, when a boy, eaten it hundreds of times ; in the meadows of Cheshire it is extremely abundant, and in other counties also; — query, could not the large species (/-'. hiilbocastamim) be grown with advantage fur pigs? It is a tuber too much neglected, and when steamed would, we hesitate not to say, prove extremely nutritious. We merely throw out the hint, in these days of potato-failure, as worth some consideration. All our edible roots and vegetables have their wild origin. The garden carrot, numer- ous as are the cultivated varieties, is only the descendant of the common wild carrot of the hedge-side [Dmicus Carota), also an umbelliferous plant, belonging, as does the pig-nut, to the class Pentandria, order Digynia of Linnaeus. The same observations apply to the parsnip (Pastinaca satira), and the celeiy [Apiion graveoleiis), plants which have been made what they are in gardens by cultivation. We might adduce multitudes of examples, but we have adhered to the umbelli- ferous tribe. Chance has brought some plants into notice ; while others, equally valuable, have been neglected. But this is a digression, yet not, per- haps, altogether out of place. Having thus generally discussed the articles of diet given to pigs in our islands, we may next proceed to a few observations respecting the mode in which these animals should be fed, so as to bring the best profit to the feeder. SUCKING PIGS. Sucking pigs are usually killed at the age of three weeks or a month old ; they are, of course, unweaned, taking little or nothing but the mother's milk ; therefore, respecting their diet, a few^ remarks only are required. Sucking pigs bring considerable profit ; a dairyman, or miller, or far- mer, keeping three breeding sows, each of which brings him ten pigs twice a-year (that is sixty sucklings), may dispose of twenty-two or twenty- three of these at the age of three or four weeks, for the gross sura of about £ 1 0, at least in the neigh- bourhood of London, and some other of our larger towns. Each sucking pig will weigh from nine to fourteen pounds when dressed, according to the breed, and sell at the rate of lOd. or lid. per pound, sometimes even l-id. This sum tells in well for the purchase of provision for the store lot and the breeding sows. Although a " sucking-pig " ought to live on its mother's milk for the first fortnight or three weeks, yet it often happens, especially when the litter is numerous, that the sow becomes over- drained, and too weakly to supply her brood with a due degree of nourishment, hi this case, they must be fed ; and if they be ten days or a fort- night old, little difficulty will be experienced in supplying their wants ; it is trae they will not be able to feed, but warm cows' milk must be given them three or four times a day by means of a common tea-pot, the spout of which may be covered with wash-leather ; at the same time, the mother ought to have nutritious and succulent diet, in order to keep up her strength and increase her flow of milk. In the course of six or eight days a small portion of tlouror barley-meal may be added to the milk ; and after that, potiito-flour, mashed carrots, or turnips, boiled cabbage-leaves. Arc. In a very short time they will eat of them- selves, and should then be supplied with little troughs, so placed as to be secure from the depre- dation of older animals, in which their milk and vegetable diet should be put at stated intei-vals. They will run after their accustomed feeder ; nay, even intrude into the kitchen or cottage, and become perfectly familiar. One of the most beautiful and fertile sows we ever knew was taken from its mother, and reared up by hand, from the age of about ten days or a fortnight, by the wife of an industrious cottager in Gloucestershire ; she carried it down from London (where she obtained it as a present), per railway, in a little basket on her knees. It was of the Chinese-Berkshire breed ; we say was — it is still alive, and celebrated in the neighbourhood of the village in which it is located. Now as regards the weaning of {>igs, this change may be effected without much trouble, between the age of seven, eight, or ten weeks. The process of course is gradual, for though the young brood be accustomed to the trough, still they will from time to time run to the mother, and attack her dugs, now no longer replete with a full flow of milk. Here the mother's condition must be consulted, and the mode of weaning must be managed accordingly. An abrupt separation between the young animals and their dam is not generally speaking advisable; it should be done by degrees, in accordance with the condition of the dam, and the aptitude for trough feeding dis- played by the young, always supposing that a good diet of skim-milk and farinaceous meal is prepared for them. At first they may be allowed access to the mother once or twice during the day, and also during the night; afterwards they may 484 be kept apart from the mother during the day, and having been well fed before bed time, they will trouble her but little during the night ; in a few days they may be entirely separated from the dam, to whom the boar may again be admitted. The food of the young pigs should consist at this time of skim-milk, whey, or butter-milk, with potato-flour or barley-meal, and they should be allowed the run of a paddock or grass field during the middle of the day, or free admission into the straw yard. They will there exhibit their in- stinctive appetites and gambol about, exercising their limbs, and as they increase in size growing up strong, vigorous, and well formed. Their sleeping place should be delicately clean, pro- vided with a sufficiency of good straw, and impervious to wind and water, and food should be given them early in the morning, two or three times during the day, and in the evening before going to rest. Clean water should always be accessible for drinking. At this time, the young males intended for porkers or bacon-hogs should be castrated, and the females, except one or two selected as breeders, spayed. These operations are performed by persons who make it their business, and need not therefore be described ; we will only say that all needless pain should be avoided, both for the sake of humanity and of safety, for if by tearing the cord rudely torture be inflicted, tetanus or locked jaw is very liable to supervene, and the animal will perish. It is best to have these operations performed when the animals are from four to six weeks old ; at a later period the danger is increased. The after treatment is very simple; they should be confined for a few days in a warm sty or restricted to a straw-yard, and fed upon skim-milk or whey, with a little meal ; the wounds genei'ally heal rapidly. It not unfrequently happens that sows, after having produced two or three litters, are put up in a sty in order to fatten for the produce of bacon. It will be necessary to have them previously spayed, at least they will fatten much more quickly after this operation, although there is considerable risk in it; as it respects sows of the age of sLx or seven years, or when a decline in the reproductive powers is manifest by the decrease in the number of young produced at each parturition, the neces- sity of this operation is less required. Some breeders make it a rule to spay their sows, how- ever good as breeders, in the second or early in the third year, and fatten them as quickly as possible for the butcher. Ringing is another and very painful operation which pigs have to undergo, but one which is generally deemed necessary, in order to prevent them from using their snouts with due effect, not only in the field, but in the sty, the pavement of which, if of biick, they would soon demolish, a purchase upon one brick being once obtained. For ourselves we doubt the absolute necessity of ringing ; the pavement of the sty should bid defiance to their endeavours, and as for the field, if they cannot there use their snouts freely, half the benefit of turning them out is lost. Again, pigs intended to be killed as porkers, at the age of four, five, six, or seven months old, may be surely exempted from this torture, however necessary it may be for store and breeding pigs. The ringing should not be perforaied until after the pigs have recovered from the operations previously mentioned: as the animals grow, a repetition of this painful process will have more than once to be repeated, but on no account on a pregnant sow, as the pain is not unlikely to cause abortion ; her nose ring ought to be looked to before the boar is admitted, and its security ascertained. Some recommend that, while the pig is young, an incision be made through the cartilaginous prolongations by which the supplementaiy snout bone is united to the proper nasal bones. The divided edge of the cartilage will never unite again, and the snout will always remain powerless. An unsightly gaping gash, rendering the snout powerless (which ringing does not in toto), is any- thing but desirable. The operation is utterly barbai'ous, and would never be allowed by any one possessing the feelings of common humanity. How would a man like to have his nose split down at the edge of the nasal bones ? Rinr/iuf/ is bad enough, but splitting is ten times worse, and altogether objectionable. Supposing the brood to be weaned at the age of eight or nine weeks, those destined for porkers may be allowed the range of the paddock or straw- yard for three or four weeks, being at the same time regularly fed on the refuse of the mill and dairy ; where, as in the case of market gardeners an I other such, a degree of liberty can not be allowed, we recommend that the sty-yard be as roomy and extensive as possible. Dm'ing the last ten days or fortnight, the feeding may be pushed, and more barley-meal, pea-meal, and milk allowed. Too many pigs should not be kept together in the same sty, nor should they be of unequal ages, as the larger are apt to persecute their younger co-mates, and drive them from the trough. Porkers are lulled at different ages, vary- ing from about three months to seven months old. We consider that the true dairy-fed pork is in perfection when the animal does not exceed the age of about three months, or ranges from three to four months ; large pork is apt to be coarse and over fat, and consequently not so digestible as yoimger meat, and is therefore not so much sought 485 for in the London market. It bears a lower price than small pork, and though the pig weighs heavier, still taking the extra keep into consi- deration, it is perhaps not more profitable ; on such points as this, however, the breeder will always consult his own interest, and study the demands of the market. STORE PIGS. Of store pigs little need be said— they are intended either for sale, or as future bacon-hogs. They should be kept in fair condition, not too low, and their health should be attended to ; they should be allowed to run in the fields, or in the ■woods and copses, when the beech-mast or acorns are falling, and be regularly and moderately fed at certain intervals, say in the morning and evening ; knowing their feeding times, by habit, they will never willingly be^ absent, and wherever they may ramble during the day, their return at the appointed time in the evening may be safely calculated upon. After their evening meal they should be secured in their sty, and snugly bedded up. HOGS FATTENING FOS BACON. Bacon-hogs (we here except breeding sows destined after two or three litters for the butcher) are generally put up to fatten at the age of twelve or eighteen months. Under the term bacon-hogs, we include the barrow pigs (that is the castrated males) and spayed females, chosen by the breeder or feeder for fattening, after the age admissible as porkers. In the fattening of bacon-hogs much judgment is requisite. It will not answer to over- feed them at first ; under such a plan they will lose their a]:ipetite, become feverish, and require medicine. They should he fed at regular intervals; this is essential ; animals fed regularly thrive better than those fed at irregular intervals, nnr should more food be given them at each meal tl.:ui they will consume. Thei/ should be sufficimthj satisfied, yet not satiated It would be as well too to vary their diet ; middlings, peas, potato-meal, and barley-meal may be given alternately, or in different admixtures, with wash, whey, butter-milk, skim-milk, and the occasional addition of cut grasses, and other green vegetables ; a little salt should be scattered in their mess, it will contribute to their health, and quicken their appetite ; a stone trough of clean water should be accessible, and the feed- ing-troughs should be regularly cleaned out after every meal. The sty should be free from all dirt, and the bed of straw comfortable ; indeed it is an excellent practice to wash and brush the hides of the animals, so as to keep the skin clean, excite the circulation of the cutaneous vessels, and open tlie pores ; pigs thus treated will fatten more kindly than dirty scurfy animals, put upon better fare. We fear, however, that this essential point is greatly neglected, from the too common idea that the pig is naturally a filthy brute, than which no- thing can be more untrue ; it is the lieeper who is filthy, and not the animal, if he constrain a pig to wallow in a disgusting sty. Too many pigs should not be fed in the same sty, three are suflicient, and they should be, as far as possible, of the same age; and the meals should be given frequently, but only in moderation at each time, over-gorging is sure to cause indiges- tion, and the only remedy for this is abstinence ; a little sulphur occasionally mingled with their food is useful. When the store hogs are first put up (and we must suppose them in moderate con- dition), the food should be only a few degrees superior to that on which they have already fed ; it should be improved step by step, till the di- gestive powers are adapted for that of the most nutritious quality; and with this the fattening must be completed. A bacon-hog is generally fattened in autumn, and killed about Christmas, sometimes after Christ- mas, sometimes a few weeks before. The average length of time required for bringing the animal into good condition, varies from about fourteen to twenty-one weeks, according to size and breed; some fatten hogs until they are incapable of moving, from the enomious load of fat with which they are burthened, and in order to accomplish this, four, five, or even six months are required. An animal so fed will certainly not pay for its food, nor can it be deemed in health ; the heart and lungs vsdll be oppressed, the circularion impeded, and the breathing laborious ; sufficient fatness is all that is desirable. A fat hog is a comely comfortable-looking animal, the embodied type of epicurean felicity ; but a bloated overladen hog is a disgusting object, uneasy and distressed in its own feelings, incapable even of enjoying its food, buried in its e.xcessive pinguitude. The quantity of barley-meal, pea-meal, or other farinaceous food (exclusive of wash, skim-milk, &c.) consumed by a hog during the time of its fattening for bacon, will vary greatly according to the size and breed of the animal. Three Coleshill pigs, somewhat more than forty-five weeks old, were fed by the Earl of Radnor on forty-eight bushels of barley-meal mixed with whey, and about six bushels of potatoes. They gained the first prize. This gives sixteen bushels of barley to each pig ; but the time during which the fattening process was carried on is not specified. A single pig fed by the same nobleman in J «40, and of the like age, consumed sixteen bushels of barley-meal mixed with whey, and one bushel of potatoes. {Silver medal.) However, we must not quite take the amount of meal given to prize pigs as a standard. Taking the average, and supposing the pig's age 486 to be fourteen or fifteen months, and the animal to be in fair condition, we should say that ten or twelve bushels of meal (that is barley-meaJ, pea- meal, &c.) would be sufficient for every useful purpose : well do we know that much less often suffices. But we are supposing the production of first-rate bacon. Porkers, of course, require a less outlay according to their age ; a porker ought not to carry too much fat ; neither the feeder nor the buyer profit by over-fed pork, though perhaps the pork-butcher may — he retails it per pound to his customers. Our obseiTations, however, do not apply to the respectable dealers in pork in London and its environs, who exhibit the most delicious country-fed meat, and justly pride themselves upon an article of consumption which brings them the first-rate custom. With respect to estimated tables relative to th» increase in weight of pigs under certain modes ol feeding, and under given quantities of food, we hold them to be utterly fallacious. The feeder's means, the produce of his ground, the breed he adopts, and the proportion of attention he bestows on the porcine part of his stock, which will be regulated by his profit therein, will make all the difference, and must be taken into the account. To the farmer (we speak not of others) the profit to be derived by him from feeding porkers or bacon-hogs will depend upon suitabHitij, or the apposite union of circumstances connected with the locality, conveniences, and staple returns of his land. It is one thing to keep a few pigs for home consumption, and another to keep them as a I source of income. CHAPTER VI. ON THE DISEASES OF SWINE. As we have stated in our histories of the ' Ox ' and the ' Sheep,' we profess not to direct the veterinary-surgeon, nor yet to give the breeder, feeder, or farmer, false confidence in himself. Humanity, as well as sound policy, demands that in cases of illness or accident, the aid of the vete- rinarian should be promptly called into requisition. All tampering is unwise. Previously, however, to speaking of any particular disease, a few observa- tions may be permitted. Pigs are far less manage- able than oxen or sheep, they resist all mani- pulation, they rebel against anything like coercion, and can neither be bled nor drenched without difficulty. BLEEDING. Bleeding is often requisite, but it is not an easy task to cause a good and free flow of blood. It is useless to attempt an incision of the jugular vein, this is too deep in the fat of the neck, and no pressure or ligatui'e will make it swell, nor indeed would the thickness of the hide even in a thin pig permit it to be clearly visible. There are, however, modes by which blood may be obtained, irrespective of cutting off part of the tail, or slitting the ears, the practice most commonly adopted. One plan is to turn back the ear and open one of the large veins ramifying on the inner surface near the base ; we need scarcely say that a lancet must be used. Anotiier plan is to open the brachial or jiJate vein, running along the inside of the fore leg, at a little distance above the knee, a tight ligature being previously placed round the limb, just below the shoulder. Some recommend an incision into the palate veins, which run one on each side of the roof of the mouth, but there is great difficulty in securing a pig in order to perform the operation. On the whole, the brachial vein is the one to be selected, especially when a copious flow of blood is con- sidered necessary. DRENCHING. The forcible administration of medicine to pigs, especially to large and strong animals, is rarely practicable, so violent and determined is their resistance. It will require the efi'orts of two or three powerful men to secure a good-sized hog ; and even then the animal, by its strenuous exer- tions, may defeat every attempt on their part to administer the medicine ; indeed, from this cause there is some danger of choking the beast, and a still greater probability that the conflict will aggra- vate the disease (especially if of an inflammatory nature), or occasion the rupture of some internal blood-vessel. The best plan, and it may be gene- rally managed, is to cheat the animals into taking physic with their food. It will save much ti'ouble, and the chance of any accident. Having said thus much, by way of a brief preface to this part of our subject, we may proceed to notice the diseases and casualties to which the domestic hog is more particularly subject— but of which most might he prevented hj attention to diet, occasional doses of sulphur, and cleanliness. Pre- vention is easier than cure. Pigs in crowded filthy sties, irregularly fed, and not allowed a sufficiency of water — or such as 487 have been kept upon a low diet, and are then sud- denly placed upon the very contrary in the extreme — are not unlikely to suffer from an attack of fever, connected with inflammation of some of the inter- nal viscera. Dulness, redness of the eyes, dryness and heat of the nasal disc and the lips, heat of the ears and skin generally, great thirst but loss of appetite, are the prevailing symptoms. The pig, like all animals fattened in confinement, is a bad subject for disease, and is liable to sink rapidly under any acute attack. The first thing to be done is the abstraction of blood from the ears, brachial vein, or tail ; this must be followed by aperients, even if it be necessai-y to drench the animal. Should its appetite be not alto- gether lost, the animal may be cheated into taking half a drachm of jalap, or less (according to the age and size of the animal), with five or six grains of calomel ; or two or three drops of croton oil, made up with bread-crumb into a pill. A drench may consist of a couple of ounces of castor-oil, with gruel ; or of senna tea, salts, and a little jalap; or of salts and castor-oil mixed in gruel. To aid the operation of the medicine, enemas should be administered, and a little nitre be added to the water, as a cooling drink. If the animal does not refuse food, two or three pints of warm gruel should be given at intervals. In the course of a day or two the aperients, should it be deemed needful, may be repeated, and the same diet con- tinued for some time. By these means, an animal may be restored in the course of a few days if the disease be treated in time. COXTAGIODS INFLAMMATORY EPIDEMICS. Inflammatory epidemics, assuming a typhoid form and rapidly terminating in death, occur Smong pigs not unfrequently in our countiy, but still more so on the continent. The cause of these epidemics is obscure. Some attribute them to unwholesome food, to ill ven- tilated sties, to exposure to heat or to wet and cold, to want of water, &c. But these things aff"ect only individuals ; and we see not, though they may cause the illness and death of many animals, how they can produce an epidemic disease — which, moreover, is asserted to be contagious, like the small-pox. The symptoms of these epidemic diseases some- what vaiy ; but they begin with the usual symptoms of fever, which soon assumes a typhoid form. At first the animal appears dull, and neglects its food ; it evinces great thirst ; the bowels are constipated, and the urine diminished. The animal groans, the abdomen becomes hard and tumid, the flanks heave, and the breathing is short and oppressed. Afterwards there is a distressing cough ; the eyes become wateiy, the moiith not unfrequently covered with ulcers, and mucus drips from the nose ; the skin is covered mth petechiae or gan- gi'enous spots ; the animal reels or becomes paralysed, sinks on the second, third, or fourth day, and often dies convulsed. On examination after death, the chest is found filled with bloody serum, the lungs diseased, and the pleura exhibiting traces of inflammation ; the heart is gorged with blood, as is also the liver, and the intestines present traces of inflammation. The substance of the brain, moreover, is often found in a morbidly soft condition, and even that of the spinal cord. There is little hope of doing any good in such diseases, except at the commencement of the attack. In the first stage, before the typhoid symptoms manifest themselves, bleeding is advisable, to be followed up by active aperient drenches and enemas ; aseton should be made in the skin of the chest, and stimulating embrocations rubbed along the spine. The abdomen should be fomented with hot water, or the animal may be put into a hot bath, and the drink should be slightly acidu- lated with white wine vinegar ; the diet should consist of gruel. Should these measures allay the inflammatory action, the animal will gradually recover, though it may be long in a weakly con- dition, and require great attention. We need not say that eveiy pig labouring under illness should be removed immediately from the rest, and placed by itself. This observation applies generally, as well as in the present case. PHRENITIS, BRAIN FEVER, OR INFLAMMATION OF THE BRAIN. Inflammation of the substance of the brain or its membranes is not uncommon in pigs, especially when they are put suddenly upon an abundance of nutritious food, or food of too heating a quality. At first the animal appears dull, listless, and dis- inclined to move ; the eyes are red, the bowels constipated, the pulse hard and quick. In a short time, as the disease makes progress, other symp- toms appear — the animal becomes frenzied, runs wildly about, is incapable of discerning objects, and strikes against them ; the respiration becomes laborious, the animal staggers, perhaps becomes paralyzed, falls, and dies. Effusion has taken place, or a blood-vessel has given way. In tlie first stage of the attack alone will any measures be useful. Blood must be freely taken, and active aperient medicines, with enem.as, administered. A couple or three drops of croton-oil, with about a drachm of tincture of ginger, in a little gruel, has been found effective ; as have also castor-cil and jalap, followed up by doses of sulphur. The head should moreover be kept cool, by means of cloths dipped in vinegar and water, with sal ammoniac dissolved in it. — (Vinegar 1 pint, water 2 quarts, sal ammoniac 1 oz.) 488 APOPLEXY. Apoplexy is generally speedy in its course. A little previous dulness has perhaps been ob- served, suddenly the animal falls, struggles, be- comes insensible, and dies. There is no time given for remedial measures, but the lancet should be instantly resorted to. In some cases the course of the disease is not so rapid, nor the symptoms so severe. The animal does not fall, hut staggers about, while its eyes are glaring and blood-shot, and their sight is dim or gone. The brain is gorged with blood, and instant relief must be given. The treatment must be the same as that directed for inflammation of the brain, and may perhaps be attended by success. EPILEPSY. This frightfully convulsive disease occasionally attacks swine, sometimes without any perceptible warning, except, perhaps, a little more restless- ness than usual, which may have been displayed by the animal for two or three days previously, but without eliciting much notice. In most cases the animal drops suddenly, and becomes dread- fully convulsed. It shrieks, it grinds its teeth, the tongue, which is protruded, becomes bitten, blood and foam drip from its jaws, its eyes appear starting from their sockets, and roll wildly about, the limbs are alternately drawn up and then violently struck out, and every muscle is spasmo- dically agitated. After a longer or shorter dura- tion, the fit begins to subside, and at last ceases ; the animal starts up bewildered, and seems atfii'st uncertain where to go. He gradually becomes more composed, and will perhaps even take food. One fit, however, is only the precursor of another, and several fits may even occur during the day. The cause of epilepsy in these animals is obscure. Mostly, perhaps, it proceeds from cere- bral irritation, resulting from too great a fulness of blood in the brain, or from some sympathy between the brain and spine, and visceral derange- ment, the presence of worms in the intestines, or a state of constipation. With respect to the measures to be resorted to, it is evident that nothing, except throwing a little cold water over the animal's head, can be done during the continuance of the fit; but as soon as this is over no time should be lost : blood must be taken away, and smart aperient medicines and enemas administered. Salts, jalap, and three, four, or five grains of calomel should be made into a drench, and the salts be repeated at inter- vals till the bowels act freely. A cold lotion should be applied to the head, as directed in inflammation of the brain, and the animal kept in a quiet secluded place, as remote as possible from the other pigs ; for if there lurks any tendency in them to epilepsy (and as the mode of feeding has been on the same plan, this is not unlikely), the sight of their convulsed companion, and the noise of its screams, will very probably induce an attack. Indeed, we would advise that the whole of the pigs be treated with doses of medicine for the sake of safety. It is easier to prevent this disease than cure it. A pig that has had one epileptic fit is ever in danger of another. They recur more and more frequently, and the animal dies. INFLAMMATION OF THE MUCOUS MEMBRANES OF THE NOSE, OE NASAL CATARRH. This disease is indicated at first by a more than usual discharge from the nose. It gradually increases, and the animal is dull. By degrees the inflammation extends to the pharynx, gullet, and larynx. The animal now begins to cough. It swallows with difficulty, and holds down its head. The mucous membrane now begins to swell, and the nose to thicken and assume a distorted ap- pearance ; the mucus is mixed with blood, or a discharge from the nose of pure blood takes place, which perhaps gives a temporary relief, but in a short time all the symptoms appear in an aggra- vated form, and the animal gradually sinks. Cold and dirt are among the causes of this disease. Some regard it as analogous to the glanders of the horse, and state that, like glanders, it is hereditary, and derivable from either the male or female parent. The catarrh is only curable when taken in time. Aperient medicine, warm mashes, a clean dry sty, and abstinence from a stimulating diet of barley, peas, &c., constitute the plan of treatment. Some recommend the use of emetics. INFLAMMATION OF THE GLANDS OF THE THROAT,* QUINCY, OR STRANGLES. This malady is extremely infectious, conse- quently no pig labouring under it should be per- mitted to remain in the same sty with others. It is somewhat insidious, or rather perhaps it is overlooked until the swelling of the throat is con- siderable, and the animal breathes and swallows with decided difficulty. No time should be lost in the treatment. The swelling will rapidly increase, and an effiision of seram will talce place ; the tongue now hangs from the mouth, dripping with saliva ; the head is fixed in one position ; there is a husky cough, and the breathing is laborious. The tumid part now becomes gangrenous ; the animal rapidly sinks. The treatment consists in the abstraction of blood, in aperient medicines, external blisters, and irritant embrocations to the throat, the hair being previously shaved offj and a substitution of cooling mashes, with a little nitre, for better food. Tartar emetic ointment is an excellent external irritant. 4S9 Should the swelling suppurate, open tlie abscess at the proper time, cleanse it thoi-oughly from the purulent matter, and apjDly a poultice. The ulcer will, if the pig do well, heal with a simple dressing. INFLAJEMATION- OF THE LUNGS. Like other animals, pigs are liable to this disease, which is vulgarly called " heaving or rising of the lights." It most frequently occurs in damp ill-ventilated piggeries, where noxious effluvia taint the air; sometimes, however, no assignable cause can be detected, though several pigs may at the sametime be labouring under it ; we may perhaps then attribute it to some condition of the atmos- phere tending to e.xcite it. The first symptoms of inflammation of the lungs consist in dulness, fever, loss of appetite, a hurried respiration, heaving of the flanks, and an incessant cough, which is evidently painful; if now neglected, tubercles form on the lungs, they suppurate, and the animal dies in a state of pulmonary consumption. The animal must be bled, and mild purgatives given. The hair between the fore legs and on the chest should be shaved off, and the skin well rubbed with tartar emetic ointment, as a counter- irritant. The animal should be put upon a diet of mashes, and kept in a dry warm place, and nitre sprinkled in the water of its drinking trough. If the pig can be cheated into taking it, sedative medicine may be given, composed of two grains of digitalis pbwder, six grains of antimonial powder, and half a drachm of nitre in gruel. The aperient medicine may consist of about four drachms of Epsom salts, and as much sulphur. We suppose the animal to be of a good moderate size. In severe cases a seton between the fore legs might be serviceable. Should the pig recover, let it be gradually fattened for the butcher. It is unwise to breed from a sow whose lungs are tuberculated. INFLAMM.YTION OF THE BEOXCHIAL TUBES OR BEONCHITIS. Pigs, like oxen, and especially calves, are liable to this disease, with the same collection of worms in the bronchial tubes, indicated by a wheezy husky cough, loss of appetite, a laborious breathing, a disinclination to move, and a rapid falling away of flesh. The animal dies a mere skeleton, often suffocated at last by the thickening of the lining of the air tubes, and the collection of mucus and parasitic worms. Should the inflammation happily be unaccom- panied by the presence of these parasites, it may be subdued by bleeding, aperients, cooling medicines, and proper diet, but if they be present there is little chance of success ; perhaps doses of common salt and lime water, as recommended by Mr. Mayer in the case of the sheep (dose of salt. from one-half to one ounce; of lime water, three, four, or five ounces daily), may be useful, or Mr. Dicken's plan of a mixture of linseed oil, spirit of turpentine, and oil of caraways. INFLAMMATION OF THE BOWELS, OR ENTERITIS. Enteritis, or inflammation of the intestines, may be brought on by cold, wet filthy sties, bad food, and similar causes. The symptoms are fever, restlessness, laborious breathing, constipa- tion, and a swollen state of the abdomen, which the animal often forbeai-s to press on the ground, leaning only on its breast and fore legs; sometimes it walks round and round staggering, and some- times forces its head against any object, as if for support. Prompt measures must be resorted to before the animal begins to sink. Oleaginous purgatives and enemas must be freely administered, and the warm bath used, or fomentations applied to the abdomen. Castor-oil is the best purgative, two, three, or four grains of calomel may be added, or given separately. It may be perhaps advisable to take away a little blood. This disease often ends fatally, the mucous membrane of the intestine exhibiting points of ulceration, and black or gangrenous patches. IXFLAMIIATION OF THE PERITONEAL COAT OF THE INTESTINES AND OF THE ABDOMINAL CAVITY, OR PERITONITIS. In the human subject, the diagnostics between peritonitis and enteritis are far moi'e clear than among our domestic quadnipeds. Brutes cannot express their feelings. Our dissections of animals of all kinds kept in the richest vivarium in Europe have proved to us that pure peritonitis is one of the most common diseases, and is seldom, nay never, cured; it runs a rapid and unsuspected course, the animal cannot explain its feelings, it appears droop- ing in the evening, it is dead by the moniing. On dissection we find effusion in tlie abdominal cavity and peritoneal inflammation, often of surprising extent. Could the disease be taken "a principio," free bleeding, active aperients, enemas, warm baths, and fomentations, might be available ; but how" is this disease to be taken in time by the veterinary- surgeon, especially in the case of the hog? Peri- tonitis does not, as some say, "gradually waste away its victim," as we by long experience can testify; it is short, sharp, and sudden in its course. Hundreds and more of cases have come under our scalpel. Enteritis is slower, and this often involv- ing inflammation of the peritoneum, may have induced some to suppose that peritonitis was the primaiy disease. With respect to treatment little is to be said. Bleeding, calomel, aperients, and enemas, are alone to be depended upon, but the time for administering these medicines is generally passed by when the most discerning veterinarian's F F 4 CO TUE HOG. advice is solicited. In the human subject peri- tonitis is one of the most formidable diseases which the physician is called upon to combat. INFLAMMATION OF THE LIVER, OK HEPATITIS. This disease is uncommon in swine. The liver in these animals "is of small size com- paratively, and seldom seems to have its functions disturbed. lu this respect the distance between the sheep and the hog is very great. Hence we may pass this viscus without comment. INFLAMMATION OF THE SPLEEN, OR SPLENITIS. Although the liver is seldom the subject of disease in this animal, the spleen is not so. Instances are on record in which congestion and rupture of the spleen has taken place, and more than this, one in which a certain absorption or wasting away of it had occurred, judging by a post- mortem examination ; although, for ourselves, we are inclined to believe that a preternatural small- ness of the spleen existed, irrespective of any disease in the case in question, seeing that the animal was healthy and fat, and weighed fifteen score. — Veterinarian, 184]. The symptoms of inflammation or of congestion of the spleen are not very palpable ; they resemble those of enteritis or peritonitis, and indeed in most cases the disease of the spleen may be regarded as secondary, being involved in the visceral mischief going on. We cannot separate the treat- ment from that recommended in peritonitis. COLIC. Pigs are sometimes, from over-feeding, or from improper diet, afflicted by an attack of spasmodic colic ; they cry out, they run distractedly around their sty, they roll on the ground, the countenance expresses jmin, but there is no fever, and the pains subside aud then return. Smart doses of castor-oil and ginger, in warm gruel with a little ale, will soon produce relief ; the object is to act upon the bowels, and at the same time soothe them by a little cordial. DIARRIICEA. Diarrhcea occurs among swine in cold wet sties, fed upon uirwholesome food and garbage ; it is more common, however, among young pigs, and ought not to be neglected. An allowance of good farinaceous food will check it, at least in general, and the calves' cordial, as directed in the ' Ox,' p. 175, may be resorted to if needful. The observations given there re- specting diarrhoea are applicable here. TETANUS. If certain operations are so unskilfully and brutally performed as to give great torture, tetanus or locked jaw is very apt to supervene. Travelling in broiling weather, and afterwai'ds a sudden chill, have been known to induce an attack. It gene- rally commences by muscular twitchings about the jaws, and spasmodic motions of the head and fore- limbs ; then the clenched teeth are ground together, the jaws are set, and the neck and shoulders be- come rigid. All attempts to force medicine into the throat are useless. Bleeding, enemas of castor-oil, and salts in gruel, the warm bath, and the application of irritating unguents or embroca- tions along the spine and round the jaws, may be useful. It is seldom, however, that the animal recovers, and then it owes its recovery rather to its firmness of constitution than to anything else. BABIES, OR CANINE MADNESS. This disease is communicated only by the bite of a rabid dog, fox, wolf, cat, or some other animal. The symptoms are awful ; at an indefinite period after the bite, varying from three to six or eight weeks, the animal appears dull and I'efuses food ; it begins to utter fearful cries, champs its jaws, foams at the mouth, and looks about with a wild suspicious glance ; if it now feeds, it ravenously devours all sorts of filth, which it swallows convulsively ; if not positively afraid of water, the animal shudders as it plunges its nose into the trough, and is unable to swallow the fluid, from which it retreats trembling, and if water be thrown over the animal, it dashes about in a state of delirium ; the nervous system is wrought up to the highest jjitch of morbid excitement. Some now become desperately savage, breaking down their inclosure, leaping over the gate or wall, and rushing at every person or animal with the intent to bite ; at last they drop exhausted, and die convulsed. Others continue dull and inert, they stagger blindly about when they attempt to walk, become paralysed in the hinder quarters, utter plaintive cries, and gradually sink. Death usually takes place on the second or third day after the first appearance of the symp- toms. AH hope of cure is out of the question. No man, we presume, would sell the carcase of a pig that died rabid, even for the pui-pose of feeding a dog ; it is yet a matter of doubt whether or not the ilesh of animals which have died rabid can be eaten with safety. Schenkius relates an instance in which some persons who partook (not knowing it) of the flesh of a pig that died rabid, and which was served on the table by an innkeeper in the Duchy of Wiirtemberg, all shortly died of rabies, and similar facts are elsewhere on record. — See Palmarius de Morb. Contag. and Shackmann on Hydrophobia. It seems almost useless to say that every particle of the straw of a sty in which a pig has died rabid should be burned ; the sty, the door, the troughs, the walls washed with hot water, and then with a solution of chloride^of lime, aud that the sty should be kept untenanted for a considerable time. 491 LEPROSY. This disease, which from the earliest antiquity was I^nowu to affect the hog, appears to arise from n vitiated state of the blood caused by damp, pestilential effluvia, bad food, aud impure water. Leprosy consists in the development of small vesicles hi all parts of the cellular tissue ; they are found in the fat, in the cellular tissue, between the muscles, especially of the ham, the shoulders, the neck and jaws, and also underneath and around the root of the tongue ; they occur in the intestines. These vesicles are regarded as a species of hydatid {cisticercus ceUulosus), a parasite allied to that found in the brains of sheep. The progress of leprosy is insidious ; its fii'st noticed symptoms are dulness and a degree of langour, but without perceptible fever, the breath- ing is not affected, nor is the appetite much abated. In a short time the skin becomes decidedly thickened, the bristles lose their firm adhesion, the vesicles in the cellular tissue lying subjacent increase, the hair begins to fall off, and the skin to ulcerate. The leprous vesicles now become abundant, and the most urgent symptoms manifest themselves ; the animal drags itself feebly about with a tottering step, it loses all relish for food, the inside of the lips are pale, there are numerous vesicles under the hot, swollen, slime- covered tongue, and often violet spots appear about the inside of the mouth ; tlie eyes are dull, the pulse is feeble, the bristles fall off, the skin ulcerates away in patches, large tumours are developed, the body exhales a disgusting odour, and the breath is fetid. Now comes the last stage ; the debility begins to be extreme, the posterior quarters become paralysed, the animal utters moans, and gradually sinks a mass of corruption. In the latter stages of this complaint cure is hopeless. What is to be done must be done at the commencement. Cleanliness and comfort must first be attended to, and the diet should be cooling, simple, and in moderate quantity ; a moderate poi'tion of blood may be taken away, and doses of sulphur, ffithiops mineral, aud nitre, may be given daily, and occasionally a gentle aperient with a little ginger. The skin should be well washed with soap and water, and afterwai'ds with equal parts of lime water and infusion of tobacco, or anointed with the following unguent: — Flowers of sulphur ^ lb., common turpentine 1 oz., mercurial ointment |- oz., linseed oil ^ pint. The ulcers may be washed with a solution of chloride of lime. MEASLES. The cause of this disease in swine is obscure ; some regard it as an epidemic, very similar to the disorder called by the same name in the human subject, while others consider it as a milder form of leprosy, and certainly not without some good grounds ; it requires treatment as a cutaneous disease, which measles in the human subject does not. Measles in the pig a])pears in the form of a subcutaneous affection, and consists in a vast number of small watery pustules below the outer sward or skin, and indeed generally scattered throughout the cellular tissue. On the surface of the skin appear numerous raised reddish patches, at first on the more tender parts, as the inside of the thighs, the flanks, and under parts of the fore arm. These gradually spread and become more or less universal. In the meantime the animal becomes feverish and sickly, loses its appetite, and is dull aud feeble, especially in its hinder limbs ; there is a discharge of mucus from the nostrils, a frequent cough, and a swelling of the eyelids ; dark pustules are fomid under the tongue, and ultimately the surface of the skin desquamates. The cure of measles, common as the disease is, is by no means very easy. Cleanliness aud atten- tion to diet are reiiuisite ; and half a drachm or a drachm of sulphur, with a scruple or half a drachm of nitre, may be given three times a-day in gruel or mash at the usual feeding hours ; generally by perseverance this mode of treatment will ultimately prove successful. The flesh of pigs affected with the measles, or with leprosy, is pale, flabby, insipid, and, what is more, positively unwholesome. MAKGE. Mange in the pig is analogous to itch in the human subject, or the scab in sheep ; it is a pustu- lar cutaneous affection, arising from the burrowing ravages of a minute insect (acanis), as we have already stated in our notice of the diseases of the ox and the sheep, and requires the same treat- ment as we have already detiiiled. Cooling medicine, and the application of sulphur ointment, with a little mercurial ointment, diluted with a sufficient quantity of linseed oil, will generally effect a cure ; some employ a lotion of weak tobacco water. A lotion consisting of a decoction of soot in water (the fluid after decoction being strained from the soot), and used when cold as a lotion two or three times a-day, is said to be efficacious. The great preventives are cleanliness, good food, and air. When pigs are infested with lice, as they are apt to be when kept in dirty sties in which there is no ventilation nor any comfort, the ointment above named, or the infusion of tobacco will prove a remedy, conjoined with a good washing, and a change to a clean abode. A little mild aperient medicine may be advisable. On these points, however, the less may be said, as we have already fully adverted to them in the history of the ' Ox ' and the ' Sheep.' THE TEEATMENT OF THE SOW DUEIKG PKEGKANXY. On this subject little need be said. A preg- nant sow should he fed neither too luxuriously 492 THE nor too nigf^ardly. Good condition is requisite, for she will have to nourish a numerous litter, hut at the same time her strength must he kept up, and an extra allowance of nutritive food granted, especially when she has produced her brood. Some weeks before parturition she should have her own allotted sty, or shed, according to the fanner's convenience. As the time of parturition approaches she should he watched ^but not dis- turbed. Her bed and all around her should be scrupulously clean, and her hours should pass in undisturbed tranquillity. Abortion in the case of the sow is of rare occurrence, unless indeed she has been the subject of foul ill-usage. And now the day of her parturition is instant. Does all go on well? if so, wait the termination. Some recommend that the young ones as soon as born should be removed from the mother, kept in some warm spot, and not returned to her, until all is over, and the placenta has been passed away. This is all nonsense. Who removes the young of the wild sow ? Yet we are gravely told, " that young sows especially will invariably devour the after-birth if permitted ; and then the young, they being wet with a similar fluid and smelling the same." If this be true, how the pui-pojndatinn of the world has been maintained we cannot tell. On this subject, to which we have already adverted, it is useless to waste words. Let Nature have her free cov/rse ; let not instincts be curbed and thwarted. There are occasionally cases of parturition in which surgical aid is required. Let the veteri- narian be immediately called in. The anatomy of the uterus of the sow, with its double cornua, the conformation of the pelvic bones, and other points which we need not here specify, render it necessary to call in scientific assistance. In the Vete- rinarian (vol. xiii.) a successful case in which the CiEsarian operation was performed is recorded. Mr. Cartwright, V. S. was the daring and skilful operator. Happily the necessity for such opera- tions is of rare ocurrence, nor ought a procedure so hazardous to be undertaken I'ashly. It is a remai'kable fact that sows more fre- quently produce monsters of deformity, than do any other of our domestic animals. Several of these have, at different times, come under our personal inspection : and of many others we have heard and read. On this subject we have no tlieory to propound, and we confess our ignorance of the influential causes operating in the produc- tion of such abnormal objects ; neither is it easy to say to which parent the defect is owing. The 1 safest plan is to breed no more from a sow who has once produced monstrosities, and to adopt another male ; indeed among the progeny of some boars by different sows, one or more specimens of mon- strosity, either fi-om superabundance of members or deficiency, have been found in every litter. When this fact is clear, the boar should be castrated, and fattened for the butcher. So far then have we given a history of the domestic hog, not excluding an account of its wild relatives, and more particularly of the common wild boar, the progenitor of our domestic stock. And here we shall close. We pretend not to be initiated into the mysteries of pickling pork, or of curing hams or sides of bacon. Some little variation in the process occurs in almost every county, and also in various countries, and many farmers follow plans of their own. Saltpetre, bay-salt, and common salt, with or without sugar or treacle, form the preparation for curing bacon and hams. In some places the smoking system is adopted, in others not. MEDICINES EMPLOYED IN THE TREATMENT OF THE SWINE. In our histoiy of the ' Ox' and of the ' Sheep,' we have entered somewhat in detail as to the nature of the different classes of medicines em- ployed in the cure of the distempers of those animals. We need not here go over the ground again. Few medicines are requisite in the treat- ment of swine. Of these the chief are common salt, Epsom salts (dose, from \ oz. to 2 oz.), sulphur (dose, ^ oz. to 1\ oz.), useful as the basis of oint- ments for cutaneous dieeases. Nitrate of potass (dose, 1 scruple to 1 drachm), ginger (dose, from 1 sci'uple to 1 drachm), croton-oil (dose, from 1 to 3 drops), castor-oil (dose, from \ oz. to 2 oz.), jalap (dose, 1 scruple to -^ drachm). Besides these we may mention oil, mercurial ointment, and turpen- tine, as ingredients in ointments, mixed with suljAur, for cutaneous affections. Turpentine, it may be observed, is useful in cases of worms, it may be given in doses of about half an ounce or more in gruel. We have omitted all notice of accidental wounds or bruises, but on these points we have nothing to add to what we have already stated in the history of the ' Ox ' and of the ' Sheep.' Sti- mulating embrocations will consist of turpentine, hartshorn, and camphorated oil, as already directed ; nor have we further observations to malte relative to setons, poultices, or chloride of lime, &c. «S;c. fcONCLL'SION Of THE IfOG.] POULTRY, BY W. C. L. MARTIN, LATE ONE OF TUE SCIEN'TIFIG OFFICERS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETI OF LONDON. rOULTKY. CIIAPTEE I. INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. ON THE STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF GALLINACEOUS BIRDS. THE CHARACTERS OF THE PHASIANID.E, AND THE ORIGIN OF THE DOMESTIC FOWL. It is not only from among the mammalia that man has selected certain species, over which he may he said to rule with despotic sway, inasmuch as he has reduced them to a state of bondage, and taught them obedience ; it is not, we say, only from among the mammalia that man has called his humble bond-slaves. Tlie featliered tribes have undergone his revision, and from among these also, such as he has deemed subservient to his interest, or even to his gratification, have been brought into subjection, carried with him in his wanderings, transplanted from clime to clime, and become more or less modified according to the manifold agencies of country, temperature, food, and general treatment to which they have been subjected. The mammalia give to man three descriptions of animals, the utility of which are generally acknowledged : — 1 . Two species of carnivora — the dog and the cat, animals valuable for service alone, at least generally speaking, for though the dog may be eaten in Western Africa, in China, and in some of the South Sea Islands, still the dog — and the same observation applies to the cat — could not have obtained originally the notice of man as a food-giver : other qualities and not its flesh recommended it to man. We might here notice the ferret, and perhaps the ichneumon, but they hold a doubtful position ; the latter is in- deed not unfrequently kept tame in l^gypt and Northern Africa, and the former is bred in cap- tivity as an assistant to the warreuer and the rat-catcher. These animals cannot be said to be fairly domesticated, they are not in ordinary em- ployment, they look not up to man as their tutelar deity, and are rather under his constraint than his care or protection. We may say the same respec- ting the cheetah or hunting leopard, employed in the East for the chase or rather the surprisal of the antelope : for although under discipline, it is still to all intents and purposes a wild beast, to be feared even by its keepers. '2. Three species of the order pai-hydcrmata, viz., the hog, the horse, and the ass. Some would here include the elephant, but we cannot fairly regard this beast as one of our domestic quadrupeds ; it seldom breeds in a state of captivity — it is a slave ; every individual used by man was once a free denizen of the forest, it was captured, it was ti-ained, it was tauglit the execution of the duties i-equired from it, and its place has to be supplied by another individual, captured and drilled like its prede- cessor. Its race is not subjugated ; individuals only are subjected to the misfortune of slavery. 3. Seven species of the order rumiiiantia, viz., the ox, the buffalo, the camel, the Bactrian or two- humped camel, the slieep, the goat, and the llama. ; To this list we might add two animals of the order rodentia, viz., the rabbit and the guinea-pig [cavia cobaia), only that we scarcely regard them as truly domestic. We acknowledge that they exhibit in colour and size, as well as in other particulars, those manifold varieties which result trom treatment and culture, and that they breed freely in captivity. Nevertheless, our feeling is, that these animals, of which one, the guinea-pig, is originally from South America, are rather prisoners than subjects. They are tamed, it is true, as far as their nature will admit of education — and this is all that we can say. Tliey display no intelligence nor attachment ; their intellectual powers are at the lowest ratio ; and they bear captivity with the utmost content, satis- fied if their wants be attended to, but are otherwise indifferent to the hand that feeds them. If we allow these animals a place among our domestic races, we cannot refuse the same situation to the white mice exhibited by the Italian peasant boy, and wliich are bred in captivity, and live contented with their lot, manifesting at least as much intelli- gence as the tame rabbit or as the guinea-pig. Looking at the quadrupeds which in strictness we should call domesticated, we find them valuable to man in two different senses — namely, for per- sonal service, and as affording food. Some, as the ox, are useful both for personal service and for food. In all countries the ox is more or less employed as a beast of draught and burden. Of the value of its flesh, and of the importance of the milk of the cow, we need not speak. On the contrary, the sheep is valueless as respects per- sonal service — it affords wool, and flesh, and milk. The hog affords its flesh and its bristles, the horse and ass their bodily labour only — at least in our country, if we except the fact that asses' milk is in request for invalids. In some countries, as F F * 494 Tarta'ry and South America, horse flesh is eaten ; and in the former country the milk of the mare is converted into a liquor called koumiss, said to be agreeable to the taste ; and from this again they obtain by distillation an ardent spirit, which they term rack or racky, fi'om the name given to the spirit so extensively manufactured in the East Indies.— (^Traws. Eoyal Soc. Ed., vol. i., and Clarke's Travels in Russia. J With respect to the dog, though its flesh was eaten in ancient times, and is so still in China and many parts of Africa, as \Yell as in some of the South Sea Islands, its great value depends upon its cajjabilities, its intelligence, swiftness, courage, strength, powers of scent, and fidelity. Now, if we turn from a brief survey of our domestic quadrupeds, lo the feathered species which man has reclaimed, and which " gather round his hospitable door," we shall find that it is for the sake of their flesh and eggs,- almost exclu- sively, that they are kept in a state of dependence. The peafowl, indeed, is regarded as an ornament to the pleasure-ground ; and the summer duck and the mandarin teal are bred in captivity to add interest by their beauty to garden-ponds and sheets of water. Formerly in our island, and it may be so still, as it certainly is in many other countries, the game fowl was reared almost exclu- sively for the supply of the arena with determined combatants. These, however, are but trifling exceptions to a general rule. The utility of our domestic birds arises from the acceptableness of their flesh as food ; and it happens that with this strong recommendation in their favour, they be- (■ome easily reclaimed — they conform themselves, without losing their natural characteristics, to the circumstances in which man has placed them — they troop around their owner at his call, and wear the chains of subjection with easy indifference. As from among the mammalia man captures individuals and trains them to his purpose, the elephant and the cheetah being examples, so from among the feathered tribes, some species afford him individuals of the powers and instincts of which he avails himself for his pleasure or profit. It is, however, only on individuals, and not on the race, that his labour of subjugation is exercised, and instead of modifying their instincts, he merely turns them to his advantage — as examples in point, we may mention various species of falcons and hawks, viz., the peregrine falcon, the merlin, the goshawk, the sparrow-hawk, &c., which are captured wild, reclaimed, and ti-ained to the sport of the field, exercising their destructive propen- sities for his gratification; we may also adduce the cormorant, which was formerly employed in England and Holland, as it is still in China, for the purpose of taking fish. We allude to these birds simply to show the parallelism existing between them and some quadrupeds, of the services of which, as it respects individuals captured and trained, man avails himself; but which have on that account no claim to a place among those to wdiich the term domestic is in its legitimate sense applicable. Our domestic birds are collectively termed Poultry ; this word, it is true, applies more par- ticularly to those of the gallinaceous order, but is generally taken, for convenience sake, in a more extended sense, and will embrace the pigeon, the duck, and the goose, as well as the common fowl, the guinea-fowl, and the peafowl. While the origin of most of our domestic quadrupeds, as the ox, the sheep, the horse, and the dog, are involved in obscurity, no zoologist being able to point out the wild stock whence they sprung, the origin of most, we may say of all our species of domestic poultry, is satisfactorily ascer- tained ; it is true that time, and treatment, climate, and the breeder's art, have tended to the produc- tion of various modifications, not only as to size, but also proportions and colour, and in some instances more so than in others (in the common fowl, and in the pigeon for example, more so than in the turkey-fowl or the duck), still these varia- tions do not place the species in that mystery wliicli enshrouds the dog, rendering every specu- lation as to its primeval source, vague and unsatis- factory. If, however, as we believe, the origin of our species of domestic poultry is to be traced out with tolerable certainty, still the period in which and the circumstances under which their domes- tication was attempted and achieved are buried in oblivion. The triumphs of man over the organic kingdoms, whether animal or vegetable, have had no annalist ; we can only form theories, and, after all, uncertainty hangs over every hypothesis. With respect to the domestic stocks of the feathered race, it is evident that they were reclaimed at different periods and in different countries, and the same observation will apply equally to the mammalia, for their original capture could have taken place only in the regions which they tenanted, and the localities for which they were organized. The sheep and the goat are adapted by nature for mountain chains, and in such chains through Europe, Asia, and North America, do wild species of the genera cajira and ovis still exist. — Farmers Library. — ' The Sheep.' The ox, on the contrary, is formed for the plain, where a rich vegetation supplies the needful food. The horse is apparently destined for a wide open country, hilly or undulating, over which the wild ti'oops may wander, perhaps migratory, as is the wild ass of the Asiatic deserts. So also among birds ; some hauut rocks, and breed in the clefts or on the ledges of the precipice, as 495 the rock-dove {Columba livia) ; others, as the pea- fowl and jungle fowl, frequent forests and jungles ; while again others are aquatic in their habits, and haunt lakes, marshes, and rivers. It is not, then, by one tribe or race of people, or at one time, or in one country, that the subjugation of our domestic animals was eifected ; this indeed is evident when we consider that some are natives of India, others of Africa, and others again, as the turkey, of America. As the human race spread, and as they made pro- gress in the arts of life, and established permanent cities, so did they add to their stock of domesticated animals, which became more and more necessary to their welfare. So much, in fact, was the value of such possessions appreciated, that wealth was estimated by the number of sheep and goats, oxen, asses, and camels, over which an owner claimed exclusive right. It may, perhaps, be deemed somewhat strange that, while in the records of the patriarchal age we read much respecting these quadrupeds, and, at a later period, of the horse {Genesis, xlis., 17, and xlvii., 17), no definite mention of domestic poultry is made, nor any allusion to its use as food. We would not here be too positive, but we suspect that domestic poultry did not form any part of the live-stock of the patriarchs. They were nomadic in their habits, they lived in tents, moving from spot to spot, as pasturage and water invited, devoting their labours to their flocks and herds. A nomadic life is inconsistent with the rearing and breeding of domestic poultry; they require a permanent abode, a fixed settlement, with proper conveniences for their shelter and comfort, and a due supply of food and water. To an unsettled people, living in tents, and watering their cattle at wells sunk in the sands of the desert, from which the water was drawn up and poured into troughs, domestic birds such as the fowl or duck would have been an incumbrance rather than an advantage — that is to say, even if such domestic birds were within their means of attainment, but this we think was not the case — the common fowl and the peafowl are of Indian origin, and we hear nothing respect- ing them till a comparatively recent epoch. In the book of Job (b.c. 1520) we have a de- scription of the war-hoi-se, and an allusion to the " goodly wings " or plumes of the peacock ; but, as this bird is in the same verse associated with the ostrich, we may suppose that it was not reclaimed, and was probably known from its feathers only, which might have found their way from a far distant country, into the land of Uz, or Edom, at a time in which the horse had been reclaimed, and the Israelites were under Egyptian bondage. But a query here arises — Is the pea- cock the bird intended ? We suspect not. The is confessedly one of great dilliculty, and the parallel appears to be drawn between the powerfully winged stork, sedulous in the care of her young, and the plume-winged ostrich, which trusts her eggs to the warm sand of the desert, forgetting that the foot may crush them. — ■See note in the Pictorial Bible to Job xxxix., 13. In the 15th chapter of Genesis (ver. 10) we read among the animals commanded to be offered up in sacrifice of the turtle-dove and young pigeon, or some young bird of the dove kind. But we have no authority for supposing that a tame pigeon was intended, although it is evident that at a subsequent period pigeons were kept in proper buildings in vast numbers. The wild rock-pigeon [Columba livia) is spread throughout Europe, Asia, and North Africa, everywhere frequenting rocks and precipices, and the interior of caverns border- ing the sea. Hence the appropriateness of the language of Jeremiah, " O ye that dwell in Moab, leave the cities and dwell in the rock, and be like the dove that maketh her nest in the sides of the hole's mouth" (xlviii. 28). Yet the pigeon was at this time domesticated, as is evident from an expression in Isaiah, " Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their windows ?" (x., 8.) This text has been well illustrated by Morier in his Second Journey, p. 140-: — " In the environs of the city (Ispahan), to the westward of Zainderood, are many pigeon-houses, erected at a distance from habitations for the purpose of collect- ing pigeons' dung for manure. They are large round towers, rather broader at the bottom than the top, and crowned by conical spiracles through which the pigeons descend. Their interior resem- bles a honeycomb pierced with a thousand holes, each of which forms a snug retreat for a nest. More care apjiears to have been bestowed upon their outside than upon that of the generality of dwelling-houses, for they are painted and ornamented. The extraordinary flights of pigeons which I have seen upon one of these buildings afibrd perhaps a good illustration of the passage in Isaiah (Ix. 8). Their great numbers and the compactness of their mass literally looked like a cloud at a distance, and obscured the sun in their passage." " What gives addition value to this illustration is the probability that similar dove houses were in use among the Hebrews ; for they certainly were so among their Egyptian neighbours, as we see by the ancient paintings and in the mosaic pavement at Praeneste, where the dove- cotes are such large and round towers as IMorier describes, decreasing in diameter upwards, but they are without the conical spiracles which we find in those of Persia." In the copy of the pave- ment of Prseneste, we obsen'e ducks, geese, and other aquatic birds apparently tame, but not the common fowl ; nor do we find it either sculptured or painted on the remains of art of the ancient 496 Egyptians, -which present us with the duck and goose in abundance, birds which there is some reason to suspect were prohibited as food under the Levitical dispensation. Among the birds regarded as clean or unclean, under that law, the common fowl is not mentioued. Yet in the time of Solomon domestic poultry of some kind were kept, for in the First Book of Kings, iv., 23, we read, that the daily cousumpliou' of live-stock in the palace consisted of " ten fat oxen, and twenty oxen out of the pastures, and a hundred sheep, beside harts and roebucks, and fallow deer, and fatted fotii." It would be hazardous to assert that in the expression of " fatted fowl" the common domestic fowl was included; yet if Solomon received peacocks, which are natives of the East Indies, it might have been. But it may be asked, were the birds procured for Solomon j^eacocks, or as Buxtorff conjectures parrots (jmttaci)? The question turns on the country to which the navy of Tarshish sailed, its outgoing and return occupy- ing three years. It would appear that Solomon, assisted by Hiram, king of Tyre, built a navy of ships at Ezion-geber, on the shore of the Red Sea, in the land of Edom. This fleet was destined for Ophir, whence it brought back gold, algum-trees, and precious stones. Some suppose Ophir to be India (1 Kings, ix., 2G, et subseq.) ; sub- sequently we are told (Ibid., x., 22) that " the king had at sea a navy of Tharshish with the navy of Hiram ; once in three years came the navy of Tharshish, bringing gold and silver, ivory and apes, and peacocks." Kow Tarshish is generally regarded as a maritime town in ancient Spain, visited by the early Phoenician voyagers for the pm-pose of traffic. From such country, however, neither gold nor silver, nor apes, nor peacocks could have been procured. Howevei", it does not say in the verse quoted that the ships of Tarshish built in the Red Sea were destined for Tarshish, a voyage uivolving the circumnavigation of Africa ; and hence it has been suggested that the expres- sion " ships of Tarshish " means only large vessels fit for long voyages, and unlike the ordinary coast- ing vessels of the time. In confirmation of this view, we read (1 Kings, xxii. 48) that Jehosha- phat made ships of Tarshish to go to Ophir for gold, but they went not ; for the ships were broken at Ezion-geber." But here a difficulty apparently insurmountable arises, for in the 2nd Book of Chronicles another account of both these transac- tions is given, which nullifies the previous theory. " For the king's (i. e. Solomon's) ships went to Tarshish with the servants of Huram ; every three years once came the ships of Tarshish, bringing gold and silver, ivory and apes, and peacocks" (ix. 21) ; and again, "He (Jehosophat) joined himself with him (the then king of Israel, Ahaziah) to make ships to go to Tarshish ; and they made I the ships in Ezion-geber, and the ships were broken that they were not able to go to Tarshish" (xx., 36, 37). ' Now whether Ophir and Tarshish were two different places or not, whether Ophir was touched i at during the voyage to Tarshish or not, certain it is that from Tarshish were brought ivory, and gold, and peacocks. All idea, therefore, of Tar- tessus in Spain must of course fall to the ground. Ivory and peacocks could not be obtained there, nor could a fleet get there from the Red Sea, unless by coasting round Africa. With respect to Ophir, some, as we have said, place it in India, or regard it even as identical with Ceylon ; others, as some portion of the south- , west coast of Ai'abia; and others again, some por- [ tion of Eastern Africa, Soiala being among the districts contended for; here it is acknowledged might have been obtained gold and silver, and ivory, and also apes, but not peacocks. John dos j Sanctos (see Furchus his Fihjrims), describing i Sofala, speaks of the abundance of gold, silver, and ivory there to be obtained, as well as ebony I and other precious wood, gems, &c. "As for peacocks (he says) I saw none there, but there must needs be some within land, for I have seen some Caflres wear their plumes on their heads." If peacocks existed in Sofala in the time of John dos Sanctos, they were probably introduced there by the Portuguese, who had a settlement at In- hamban, and at other spots, established about the middle of the sixteenth century, which still linger. The common domestic animals (of course in- troduced) are found in Senna and Sofala (see art. Senna and Sofala in Penny Cyclup.) We do not say that either Ophir or Tarshish are to be looked for in Sofala, but we lean to the idea that they existed as districts or to\^'ns on some part of the coast of Eastern Africa — first, because of the character of the articles obtained ; and secondly, because a coasting voyage was best adapted for even the lai'gest ships of antiquity ; and thirdly, because a voyage to India, say Ceylon, from a port in the north of the Red Sea, through the Isthmus of Suez and across the Arabian -Sea, without a knowledge of the compass, must have been one of no[ordinary difficulty. That the Phceuiciaus and Tyrians navigated the Mediterranean, traded with Spain, and even imported tin from our British shores, we may readily admit ; we will admit that they explored the African coast to a great extent, but we hesitate to believe, as Herodotus was in- formed, that the Phoenicians actually circumnavi- gated Africa, sailing from the Red Sea, doubling the Cape, and returning by the Mediterrauean, under the orders of Pharaoh Xecho (king of ^oyP*^)-* Stfll less can we give credit to the * Melpomene. This voyage occiued 400 yeais later tliau the 497 theory that in the time of Solomon the ships of Hiram visited Ceylon. Dr. J. Kitto, after a long and very critical analysis of the opinions which have been hazarded by the learned respecting Ophir and Tarshish, thus sums up the matter: — "The reader will by this time begin pei'haps to question whether any particular places are denoted by the words Tarshish and Ophir. In the note to ch. ix. (2 Chron.) we explained that 'ships of Tarshish' were probably so called from being, like those which went from Phoenicia to the Atlantic, especially adapted to a long voyage. Now, by an obvious transition of ideas among a people whose nc.ions of distant places were very indefinite, when ships that made long voyages were called ships of Tarshish, tlie name may in process of time have been transferred so as to denote any distant country to which such ships went. This Avould adequately explain how it happens that the ships which went to Ophir are called ships of Tarshish in the Book of Kings, but in the later Book of Chronicles are not so called, but are said to have gone to Tarshish, that is, went on a distant voyage. This explanation does not rest on our authority; it is the explanation of Gesenius. Heeren applies a somewhat similar explanation to Ophir. He says, 'It is very probable that this name, like those of Thule and others, did not designate any fixed j^lace, but simply a certain region of the world, like the names East or West Indies in modern geography. Thus Ophir may be understood as a general name for the rich south country, including the shores of Arabia, Africa, and India.' In confinnation of this he observes elsewhere, after Tychsen, that the word Ophir signifies in Arabic the rich countries. In these explanations, as respecting the names of Tarshish and Ophir, we entirely acquiesce. They enable us to conclude that the fleet may have gone trading to various places, collecting the different commodities which were required, and relieve us from the necessity of finding everything in one place." It appears to us that this explanation is like cutting the Gordian knot, instead of untying it. We cannot imagine that Ophir or Tarshish meant, indiscriminately, the shores of Arabia, Africa, and India. Nor do we think that India was visited at that early period by the united fleets of Solo- mon and Hiram. Consequently we lean to the idea that either parrots, or some other birds, per- haps guinea-fowl, were the birds in question. It is somewhat strange, if peacocks were possessed by Solomon, that they were not kno\vn at a remote period to the Greeks. It is true we do not know at what period the peacock was introduced into Greece, but at all events it must have been before the time of Alexander. " Certain it is that the peacock is mentioned in two plays of Aristophanes, the 'Acharnians' and the 'Birds,' the first of which was represented in the third year of the 88th Olympiad, and the last in the second year of the 91st. Now, Alexander was not born till the second year of the lace, being held fast from moving its body by the glue. Its attempts pull the feathers and make it squeak, and as its efforts are more and more painful, the desire to move is abandoned. Under such circumstances, the chick, if unassisted, must die ; and hence it may not be useless to point out the indications by wliich this state of things may be recognised. Whenever, then, a considerable fracture both of the shell and the membrane is observed to remain for five or six hours without enlargement ; and, at the same time, the margin of the membrane is perceived to be hard and dry, with perhaps some feathers sticking to it, it will be indispensable to liberate the chick by breaking the shell very gently, and by cutting the membrane with the points of a pair of scissors. The opera- tion, thougli painful to the chick, does not prove mortal, for the young animal is no sooner freed than it exhibits as much vigour as any other chick of its age." This last observation does not agree with our own experience ; indeed we have known many chicks die after extrication from the shell, even by the most delicate manipulation, their vital powers being under par. Debility alone is the cause of this misfortune ; the chick has not the strength sufficient for the work it has to accomplish in the space of time within which it ougho to be performed. The later eggs of a hen are more liable to this casualty than those laid at the commencement of the season, and as we have some reason (from observation) to believe, the last egg laid by a wdld bird in her nest (and we have particularly the hedge-sparrow or duunock in our eye) is more apt to become a failure, from the chick on the eve of extrusion sinking under debility, than any one of the eggs laid previously. Yet this theory we advance with some hesitation, for we found our opinion chiefly upon observations on the eggs of hedge-sparrows whose nests were built in our own garden, the same pair coming year after year to a favourite spot, and their progeny selecting adjohiing sites of nidification. Of this however we are positive, that dead younglings sticking to the shell have been picked up by us close to the nest on which the half-tamed parent would sit, unscared by our derangement of her leafy covering. We have attributed the casualty in question to debility in the chick, and this we believe to be the source of all the mischief; but this debility is not always innate, it may be the result of injudicious interference. An experienced poultry maid giving directions to her young successor may be supposed to say as follows: — Do not meddle with the eggs or tbe nest; the hen knows better than you if, and when, they require turning, and I I 5^4 in what position to place them. She vill seldom forsake them, or leave them long enough to be addled, vhich is caused by the change from heat to cold. Watch patiently and quietly. On the eighteenth or nineteenth day, if you put your ear alloved to remain. But suppose that the weather is piercingly cold, and that the hen is restless, then let the chickens have vaimth and every attention. Chickens hatched during the winter months require comfortable housing, the hen to the egg, you will hear the chick making a i being with them, and the less that interference be gentle piping noise, and at this time the yolk which has already begun to be taken up into the body, is now in a state of rapid absorption, being destined to supply the chick with nourishment, even after its exit from the shell. You will very seldom have occasion to assist chickens in emerging from the shell, and the chances are that you will injure them if you attempt it. Act cautiously, but believe that nature does the made betvieen the hen and her chicks, the better; they troop around her; she protects them, gathers thtm under her wings, and watches over them with the most earnest solicitude. As we have explained, the chick, before its exit from the egg, has absorbed nourishment intended to last for twenty-four hours. If the chicks look healthy, if their downy plumage soon spreads out, and if they gain their feet pretty soon, even though business best. Some chickens get out in an hour, , they should not eat, nothing is to be apjirehended. others in two or three, and it may happen that some may be a day, or a day and a night at work, by starts. For twenty-four hours you should leave them to themselves ; if they are not strong enough to break through their shell-work wall, they will not be stout enough to live, and this is the reason why, even with the gentlest assistance, they very seldom do live, supposing they have not left the egg by their own efforts. It sometimes happens that the feathers are glued to the lining of the shell, which prevents the bird from clearing itself of it. In this case be veiy gentle with your fingers, when you draw the feathers from the lining of the shell. You should go to work as if you were removing a blister from your own skin, that is to say, with the greatest tenderness. Be rather tardy than premature ; " let patience have her perfect woik." Eemember that if the chickens leave the shell before they have taken in, or drank up all the yolk, which must serve them for food during the ensuing twenty-four hours after they see the light, they will pine away, and die in a few days. Beware then of being premature in any efforts, however well intentioned, to extricate a feeble chick ; nevertheless, be watch- ful, and ready for every emergency. So far we may say an experienced poultry-maid would give her directions. But now comes another point to be considered. The chickens are all hatched under favourable circumstances ; there is no mishap, one after another extricates itself — what is the treatment to be pursued? Many persons, as the chickens leave the eggs, remove them one by one, and place them in a basket, covered up with tiannel, and keep them in a warm place, returning them to the hen when the last has made its appearance. This is not generally necessary; it is unnatural, and may fret the hen, who delights in her young brood, whose piping notes while the chicks were yet in the egg, she has listened to with complacency. The shells however should be cleared from the nest, but unless circumstances render it necessary, the young chickens may be In fact, their abstaining from food only indicates the little need they have for it. However, it is well to have all things in readiness for them ; twenty- four hours soon pass away, and their wants ought rather to be anticipated than neglected for an hour. The stages of development in which animals are introduced to the world, are very different in different species — but all is in consonance with this law of variation. The young of some birds, for example, are helpless, and require to be fed by the parents for many days, and the parents are led by the impulse of instinct to feed and watch them : not so the young of gallinaceous birds generally; they emerge from the egg highly deve- loped, and have the use of their limbs and beak. They look, indeed, to the mother for protection, but they pick up their own food, and soon become connoisseurs in the selection of it. As soon as chickens begin to feed they should be well-fed. At first crumbs of bread soaked in milk, mixed with boiled rice, and the crumbled yolk of an egg, boiled hard, may be given ; a little under-done meat chopped very small is relished ; and in a day or two grits, oat-cake cut very small, curds, and the like may be given. A shallow pan or vessel of pure clean water should be within their reach ; fowls drink freely, and chickens require water — often, indeed, they sip the welcome fluid before they begin to peck. Chickens under the guidance of a hen are apt to wander, not from any wandering disposition of their own, but because they follow their parent or protectress, whose discretion is not by any means equal to her zeal or her courage. They thus become exposed to enemies, as the hawk, the weasel, or the cat ; they run the risk of falling into ditches and ponds, or of being saturated with wet — hence something like restriction is imperative. The hen may be placed under a coop with food and water, in a suitable place, as on a grass-plat, and so kept from straying; the young will not forsake her, they will come to lier call, and nestle under her wings on the sudden S3& approach of a shower of rain, or on a change of weather. The affection displayed by the hen towards her chicks, her anxiety for their safety, and the resolution with which she braves danger in their behalf, need not be insisted on. We have seen a hen at the head of her little troop attack a dog. In due time, however, the hen becomes more and more indifferent to her charge, and when they are strong enough to be independent of her, she abandons them, and generally begins again to lay. Some persons, especially in France, train capons to act as nurses to their broods of chickens which are reared, and some have recourse to artificial mothers, or boxes lined with a soft and warm material for the protection of the brood. That capons can be taught or trained to hatch a clutch of eggs, and attend to the young, was known to the ancients ; and indeed there are cases on record of the cock having laid aside his lordly air, and devoted himself with exemplary patience to the work of incubation ; in other cases he has taken the place of the hen in watching over the chickens when accident has deprived them of her care. Aristotle tells us that he witnessed an instance of this kind [Hist. Anim., ix. 49); and Pliny says, "We have heard that when a brood hen chanced to die, the cocks were seen to go about with the chickens, one after another by turns, and to act in every way as would the hen that hatched them, forbearing to crow during the whole period." jElian and Albertus Magnus allude to similar facts. Baptista Porta, in his strange work on Natural Magic [Magia Naturalis^iy. 26), gives instructions as to the mode of taming and training capons for the task of nursing. In the first place, the bird must be made so familiar as to take food from the hand ; this primary step being accomplished, on the evening when his services are required, the feathers must be plucked from off his breast, and the bare skin be irritated by rubbing it with nettles. The chickens must then be put to him ; they will naturally huddle under him, and by rubbing with their little downy heads allay the irritation caused by the nettles. This process being repeated for two or three nights, he will gradually conceive an affection for the chickens, and attend to them like a hen. The writer suggests that this attachment may be based on the principle of mutual distress producing mutual sympathy, and that the querulous chirp of the chickens may make the capon, while in pain himself, desirous of allaying their misery. A capon once accustomed to this office will not abandon it, but when one brood is grown up suflSciently, another newly hatched brood may be substituted in their place, and so on in succession, the last chickens being as carefully attended to as were the first. Some writers are inclined to consider the care bestowed by the capon on young chickens as the result of an instinctive feeling of tenderness which the sight of the helpless brood inspires; and they instance cases in which birds have voluntarily nourished the deserted younglings of other birds. But the cases are not parallel, the capon has to be trained to the novel duties, and does not voluntarily take them upon himself; still less do we think the conduct of the capon to be under the impulse of that affection which urges animals deprived of their young, or even when not deprived, to adapt and nurse the young of other animals, and of which Gilbert White [Nat. Hist, of Selborne) relates many curious examples. Probably the forced habit to which the capon is constrained, becomes in time, as it were, second nature, so that instead of the task being at last irksome, it becomes agreeable. It is not often in England that capons are trained as nurses ; but they have been, and are so still occasionally. Willughby says — " We have beheld more than once, not without pleasure and admiration, a capon bringing up a brood of chickens like a hen, clucking to them, feeding them, and brooding them under his wings with as much care and tenderness as their dams are wont to do." — Ray's Willughby. In France, as we have said, the practice is much more common. M. Reaumur assures us, that a lady, a relation of his own, had a vast number of chickens brought up every year with no other nurses than capons. " I have," he says, "frequently seen at her chateau of Vaujour, near Livry, above two hundred chickens which had only three or four capons for their leaders, it being one of the advantages of this method that a capon may be trusted with two or three times as many chickens as a hen can pro- perly manage. Another advantage is, that a capon may be set to nurse at any time, as he is always ready to underuke the task, and he even seems to become proud of his family in proportion as the number increases ; whereas hens will persecute and drive away the chickens which are offered to them after a certain age, and which are, of course, different in size from those which they have them- selves hatched. Another advantage consists in saving the hens from the trouble of nursing, as in that case they will either sit again, or begin to lay much sooner, while the chance will be avoided of any disaster happening to the chiikens from being abandoned, before they can provide for themselves, by a mother who, as is often the case, recommences laying prematurely, and consequently neglects them." Be it obser^'ed, however, that, upon the ac- knowledgment of Reaumur, who is an advocate for the plan, the education of capons is not always easily accomplished. Besides the method recom 1 1 a mended by Baptista Porta, there are others which are practised ; and of these one is to intoxicate the capon with wine or brandy before the chickens are introduced to him, in order to make him fancy them his own — an absurd idea, and a useless and cruel expedient. Eeaumur, however, tried it, and found that the capon, instead of receiving the chickens with kindness, crushed some beneath his feet to death, and attacked others with his beak, driving them away. What else could be expected ? The poulti-y-maid at the Chateau de Vaujour in- stituted another process, requiring some trouble and patience, but founded on rational principles. Her plan was to put each capon into a box of considerable depth, rather narrow, and darkened by a covering of boards. In this manner she kept them secluded, but took them out two or three times a-day to feed. As soon as she judged them weaiy of solitude, she placed with each capon two or three chickens tolerably well advanced in growth, and fed them together. If the capon showed a disposition to ill-treat his young com- panions, they were removed, and after two or three further days of solitude, others were again put to him. By following out this plan, varied in minor details according to circumstances, the capon first contracts a habit of living on friendly terms with a few chickens — he then notices them — more are added — he receives them kindly, and may now be allowed his liberty, when he will march at the head of his adopted brood. He will cluck to them, gather them under his wings, scratch the ground for them, and, on discovering any delicacy, call them around him. What is very remarkable is, that once having been well- trained, and habituated to two or three broods in succession, he will take to his task in the spring, after being unemployed during the winter months, without hesitation. The habit is established, and will continue through life. With respect to artificial mothers, they are undoubtedly useful when there is no natural parent or trained capon to protect and warm the chickens ; and many persons are great advocates for them. These artificial mothers are nothing more than wooden trays or boxes, so contrived as to impart the necessary heat to the young chickens, after exclusion from the egg, till they are suffi- ciently strong and gi-own to need no further assist- ance. When chickens are hatched by artificial means, as by the eccaleobion, or in an oven, these protectors are essential ; for, without some substi- tute for the parent, the chicks would perish. The chief benefit resulting from the use of artificial mothers is, that several broods may be reared at once, and with no more trouble than one. According to Mr. Young, five broods may be reared at the same time under an artificial j njother, constructed in the following manner : — " This mother should be framed of a board ten inches broad and fifteen inches long, resting on two legs in front four inches in height, and on two props behind two inches in height. The board must be perforated with many small gimlet holes for the escape of the heated air, and lined with lamb-skin dressed with the wool on ; the woolly side is to come in contact with the chickens. Over three of these mothers a wicker basket is to be placed for the protection of the chickens, four feet long, two feet broad, and fourteen inches high, with a lid open, a wooden sliding bottom to draw out for cleaning, and a long narrow trough along the front, resting on two very low stools, for holding their food. Perches are to be fixed in the basket for the more advanced to roost on. A flannel curtain is to be placed in front and at both ends of the mothers, for the chickens to run under, which they soon learn to push outwards and in- wards. These mothers, with the wicker baskets over them, are to be placed against a hot wall at the back of the kitchen fire, or in any other warm situation, where the heat shall not exceed eighty degrees of Fahrenheit. " When the chickens are a week old, they are to be carried with a mother to a grass-plot for feed- ing, and to be kept warm by a tin tube filled with some hot water, which which will continue suffi- ciently wann for about three hours, when the hot water is to be renewed. Towards evening the mothers are to be again placed against the hot wall." Eeaumur, who paid much attention to this subject, planned many kinds of apparatus and improved upon them, according to the dictates of experience. His original apparatus, he observes, did not seem sufficiently perfect; "for though the chickens were kept in warm air, they had no equivalent for the gentle pressure of the belly of the mother upon tlieir backs when she sits over them. Their back is, in fact, necessarily more wanned than the other parts of the body while huddling under their mother's wings ; whereas their belly often rests on the cold moist earth, the reverse of what took place in the apparatus, where their feet were the best warmed. The chickens themselves indicated that they were more in want of having their backs warmed than any other part of their body ; for, after all of them had repaired to the warmest end of the apparatus, they re- mained motionless, standing bolt upright upon their legs, with their backs turned towards the sides or end of the apartment, in order to procure the necessary warmth. I therefore judged that they wanted an apparatus that might, by resting on them, determine them to take the same atti- tude as they naturally assume under the hen ; and I contrived an inanimate mother to supply in this respect the want of a living one." The artificial mother contrived upon these 53? principles consists of a box lined with slieep-skin with the wool on it, the bottom being of a square form, and the upper sloping like the lid of a writing-desk. This box is placed at the end of a crib or cage, shut with a grating of willow net or ■wire, and closed above with a hinged lid, the whole being so formed that the chickens can walk round the sides. The slope of the cover permits the chickens to arrange themselves according to their sizes ; but as it is their practice, as well as that of all other young birds, to press very closely to- gether, and even to climb upon one another, the small and the weak being thereby in danger of being crushed or smothered, Reaumur constructed his artificial mother open at both ends, or at most •with only a loose netting hanging over it. Through this the weakest chicken can escape when it feels itself too much squeezed, and then, by going round to the other opening, it may find a less dangerous neighbourhood. The ingenious author even made improvements upon this contrivance, one of which consisted in keeping the cover sloped so low as to prevent the chickens from climbing on each other, and raising it as they increased in growth. Another was the dividing the large cribs into two by means of a transverse partition, so as to separate the chickens of difi'erent sizes. Of the utility of this apparatus Reaumur speaks in strong terms, preferring it to the natural parent, but in this we think he goes too far; certainly he was very successful, and not only contrived several artificial mothers of great ingenuity, but even succeeded in hatching eggs by the heat of stoves, one of which was combined with the rearing apparatus, the whole being remarkable for elegance and simplicity. Artificial mothers may be easily contrived for young ducks and geese, by having attached to them a little play ground of green turf with a miniature pond in the centre, to which they will naturally resort. In the contrivance and management of artificial mothers, reflection, experience, and ingenuity are requisite; directions and descriptions serve but as hints; the principle is to afford a warmth and shelter to the young brood equivalent to what the parent supplies, while at the same time care is to be taken that the chickens be not suffocated, excess of heat and want of ventilation being evils to be as much avoided, on the one hand, as insufficiency of warmth is on the other. The artificial mother is only a sort, of house for chickens newly hatched, and generally speaking for chickens hatched under hens ; but were chickens hatched in great numbers by some simple appara- tus, the artificial mother would become an essential ; for the ultimate success of the operation, at least in our climate and the adjacent portion of Europe, would depend upon a substitute for the natural parent. The process of bringing the vitalized embryo of the egg through all its stages of development until the chick makes its e.xit from the shell, by the judicious administration and management of artificial heat, has been long practised in Egypt, nor have experiments both in our own country and France been unsuccessful, but whether the plan will ever become general, so that a supply of apparatus- hatched chickens may be in constant readiness to meet the public demand, is very questionable. Our humid changeable climate is not favourable for the process on a large scale ; the least change of temperature is fatal, for it is indispensable that an equable temperature of about 9 6 degrees ( 1 00 , as M r. Cantelo states) of Fahrenheit be maintained. At a lower temperature the development of the embryo cannot be perfected. Hence although in Egypt, which enjoys a favourable atmospheric state for the accomplishment of the experiment, the operation is well accomplished, success in our uncertain climate is far from certain, and we doubt whether the mode practised in Egypt would at all answer in England. In fact it is wonderful that in Egypt the plan there adopted should produce the results described ; it must involve great practical experience. At what epoch the art of hatching chickens in Egypt began to be practised, we cannot learn, probably for many centuries, for it is alluded to both by Aristotle and Diodorus, although they give erroneous details. It would appear that the art is chiefly understood and practised by certain people living in the village of Berme and a few adjoining places in the Delta, who leave it as an heirloom to their children, forbidding them to impart it to strangers, consequently the information which has been collected respecting it is superficial. Be this as it may, the art is carried on by these people exclusively, generation after generation, who are all licensed, so that their number is known, and cannot be increased without the approbation ot licence of the Aga ; each Bermean pays about ten cro'mis for his certificate, which entitles him to seek for practice. At the beginning of autumn, which is said to be the most favourable for the process, these Bermeans disperse themselves over the country, each taking the management of a number of eggs entrusted to him by those who are themselves unacquainted with the art. His first care is to have suitable ovens erected, after which he fits them for the reception of the eggs, by regulating their temperature. In all this there is no mysteiy, no attempt at concealment. The great secret is the manner of so managing the fire as to produce a temperature so nicely adjusted and maintained as to effect the evolution of the chickens. The number of ovens dispersed through the 638 different districts of Egypt has been estimated at 386. They are called mamals, and each is managed by a licensed Beiinean. In each of these mamals six or eight broods are annually hatched, each brood or rather batch consisting of from forty to eighty thousand. The Bermean guarantees two-thirds of the eggs entrusted to him by the undertaker, and if any ovei-plus eggs are hatched, the chickens are the perquisite of the Bermean, which he adds to thirty or forty crowns for about six months' services, which he receives, exclusive of his board. An Egyptian hatching oven, or tnamal, is thus described : — " It is a brick structure of about nine feet in height. The middle is formed into a passage or gallery about three feet wide, and eight feet high, which runs from one end of the building to the other, forming the channel of communication with the chambers or true ovens, thus facilitating the various operations requisite for the treatment of the eggs. This galleiy has a round hole by way of entrance, through which the Bermean passes, and which is stopped up when necessary. On each side of this gallery there is a double row of chambers, an upper and under row — that is, everj chamber on the ground floor has one over it, of precisely the same dimensions, namely three feet in height, four or five in breadtli, and twelve or fifteen in length. These have a round hole for an entrance from the gallery, about a foot and a half in diameter, wide enough for a man to creep through, and into each are put four or five thousand eggs. The number of rooms or chambers in one mamal varies, and the upper rooms communicate with the lower by means of a circular hole in the centre of the ceiling of the under room, which constitutes of course the floor of the upper room. The eggs are laid upon the floor, but not on the bare bricks, a bed of flax or a mat, or some other non-conducting material, is carefully spread to receive them. " In each of the upper rooms is a fire-place for warming the lower room, the heat being com- municated through the circular hole in the centre of the floor. The fire-place is a sort of gutter two inches deep and six wide, which runs sometimes all round the floor, but is mostly continued along two of its sides only. As wood or charcoal would make too quick a fire, they use the dung of cows or camels mixed with straw, and formed into cakes, and dried. The doors or holes which open into the gallery serve for chimneys to let out the smoke, which finally escapes through openings in the arch of the gallery itself. The fire in the gutters is only kept up, according to some, for an hour in the morning and an hour at night, which they call the dinner and supper of the chickens ; ■while others say it is lighted four times a-day. The difference probably depends on the tempera- ture of the weather. When the smoke of the fires has subsided, the openings into the gallery from the several rooms are carefully stuffed with bundles of coarse tow, by which the heat is more effectually confined than it could be by a wooden door. " When the fires have been continued for a certain number of days, eight, ten, or twelve, according to the weather, they are discontinued, the heat acquired by the ovens being then sufii- cient to finish the hatching, which requires in all twenty-one days, the same time as when eggs are naturally hatched by the hen. About the middle of this period a number of eggs in the lower are moved into the upper rooms, in order to give the chicks greater facility in making their exit from the shell than they would have if a number of eggs were piled up above them." Thus do sixty or seventy thousand chickens emerge from their imprisonment, swarming in their mamal like bees in a hive, and thus does the Bermean, guided by his own feelings and experi- ence, exercise an art with a degree of success which seems mai-vellous. We should take into account, however, that in the Delta of Egypt the autumnal season is one of warmth, with a steady temperature. Would the Bermean method suc- ceed in England ? We think not. Aristotle and Diodorus describe the process of hatching eggs under layers of dung, as in manure beds ; and Reaumur, trusting to their statement, which he soon found to be the result either of theoiy or of some erroneous information, com- menced a series of experiments, hoping to rival the Bermean in his art ; he found, however, after many trials, that though by the heat thus produced vitality commenced, and the development of the chick was carried to a certain point, the young ultimately perished ; in fact, the vapour exhaled from the fermenting manure pervaded the pores of the shell, and sooner or later became fatal to the embrj-o. In some cases the chicks were well- formed and even feathered, but long before their time for leaving the shell they perished. He found, moreover, a difficulty in regulating the temperature ; in his first trials, for example, he nearly cooked the eggs by excess of heat ; and though he after- wards contrived to ensure a due temperature, yet the exhalation of the manure defeated his projects. After many failures he at last accomplished his purpose, and made a sort of wooden oven which was impermeable to the vapour. He thus details his experiment : — " I caused one of those casks called half-hogsheads to be sunk into the bed of dung, after having had a hole dug large enough for its admission, and taking great care to have the edges raised three or four inches above the surface of the hot-bed. The top had been pre- viously converted into a moveable lid by means of cross-bars, and one lar-ge and eight smaller holes 58gr. ■were made in it, and bunged with corks to serve as regulators of the temperature within. The eggs were let down into the <;ask in round baskets, about two inches in diameter less than the cask, some being deep, others shallow, the former containing two and the latter one layer of eggs. I caused three of these baskets to be placed in the oven in such a manner that the lowest was some inches distant fmm the bottom, and the highest a few inches lower than the upper edge. When the time had elapsed in which my previous experi- ments had failed, not one egg of this new oven was tainted, and at the end of twenty days, the gardener, who had taken care of so many unsuc- cessful batches, came in the evening to tell me, with the greatest possible emotion, what he knew must be very pleasing news, namely that one of my eggs was chipped, and the chick could be heard within endeavouring to chirp. This chicken did not disappoint our hopes, having been hatched next day. and it was even preceded by some others, and followed by a great many more. From that time indeed I began to see some hatched every day." The eggs had sustained no injury from the noxious vapour, the heat had been duly regulated, and the result was fortunate. M. Reaumur did not stop here, he was applied to by the rector of St. Sulpice, who desired to introduce the plan into some of the charitable institutions. Instantly M. Reaumur conceived the idea that advantage might be taken of the heat produced in baking houses, and accordingly he found that the tempe- rature of a room situated over the bread-ovens of the institution called L'Enfant Jesus, could be mauaged so as to answer the purpose in view. The eggs were placed on the shelves of a small cupboard, and entrusted to the care of one of the nuns, wlio was enthusiastic in her employment. The experiments were in the main tolerably suc- cessful, hut we can by no means coincide with those who would thence infer that bakers, pastry- cooks, and others might apply their ovens to a similar use, by constructing hatching chambers in connexion with them. The expense, the trouble, the uncertainty, to say nothing of interruption to other business, and the skill and practice, necessa- rily the result of many mishaps, render the carry- ing on of such plans utterly out of all question, however feasible they appear on paper. For our- selves we confess that we look upon artificial incubation and artificial mothers as among things which may amuse experimentalists, afford gratifi- cation to a few ingenious schemers, excite curiosity, but end in nothing. It is of no use to point to Egypt as if no fowls reared their own broods there. The climate, moreover, of Egypt and of Western Europe are different, and the same obser- vation applies to China, where ducks are reared by artificial means, though we know not precisely how. Let us be content with our poultrj'-yards and their feathered inmates as they are, and be grateful to Providence for the fowls of the air, which are peculiarly the pensioners upon our bounty. If any apparatus promised wonders in the poultry line, it was the eccaleobion (literally the invoker of life), but what is now heard of its performances, and where are the thousands of chickens with which our tables, from the poorest up to the highest, were to be supplied ! It may be said, who, fifty years since, would have dreamed of locomotive steam-engines propelling chariots along railroads, and urging mighty vessels through the deep ? The case is different — there is no analogy between the laws of mechanics and the laws of vitality ; and improve upon steam-engines as we may, we shall not therefore improve in the art of bringing chickens from eggs, so as to render hens useless except as the parents of them. We admit that the eccaleobion was an ingenious contrivance for hatchiug chickens by means of heated air. It presented the appearance of an oblong box nine feet in length, three feet in breadth, and three feet in height. It had no connexion with the walls against which it was placed, or the table on which it stood ; its regu- lating power was within. According to Mr. Buck- nell, the inventor and pi'oprietor of this machine, which some years ago excited great attention, the eccaleobion possessed a perfect and absolute command over temperature from 300 degrees of Falirenheit to that of cold water, so that any substance submitted to its influence is uniformly acted upon over its whole surface at any required iiater mediate degree within the above range, and such heat is maintained unaltered without trouble or difficulty 'far any length of time. Hence, by means of this absolute and complete command over the temperature obtained by this machine, the impregnated egg of any bird, not stale, placed within its influence at the proper degree of warmth, is at the expiration of its natural time elicited into life without the possibility of a failure, which is sometimes the case with eggs subjected to the caprice of their natural parent. During the public exhibition of this instrument thirty or forty thousand chickens, perhaps more, were stated to have been brought into existence by a single machine, which was constructed to contain two thousand eggs at a given time. These chickens, with proper attention and under suitable treatment, were said to grow as healthy and strong as those under a parent's care. Of course artificial mothers, warmth, a dry soil, and proper buildings would be needed. What might not be expected from a multiplication of these machines, or their formation on a larger scale ! Incalculable, surely, must be the number of fowls given to the country ; and as is the increase of laying hens so will be that of their eggs, seeing 540 that each hen in a domestic state will lay on an average at least one hundred eggs per annum. The prospect is not only nationally important, but opens a field for enterprise. In such a light did Wr. Bucknell look upon the affair, and thus influenced he writes as follows : — " We call the Egyptians barbarous ; the procuring, however, by art and industry an alnnidant supply of that necessary of life, good animal food, is no evidence of barbarism. If the population of the United Kingdom, which as respects Egypt, is as twenty- four to two, were as well supplied with this arti- ficial production as Egypt, it would require not ninety-two millions, but one thousand one hundred and four millions of poultry annually for them to be as well fed in this respect as the uncivilized natives of Egypt. But how stands the account in this matter? Full one-third of our population subsist almost entirely, or rather starve, upon potatoes alone [would that they had potatoes in abundance] ; another third have, in addition to this edible, oaten or inferior wheaten bread, with one or two meals of fat pork or the refuse of the shambles per week [the Roman population of the olden time never fared half so well] ; while a considerable majority of the remaining third seldom are able to procure an ample daily supply of good butcher's meat, or obtain the luxury of poultry from year to year [this, as far as England, Scotland, and Wales are concerned, we cannot admit]. On the conti- nent of Europe the population is in a still worse condition ; fish, soups made from herbs, a stutl' called bread, made from every variety of grain, black, brown, hard, and sour, such as no Englishman could eat, olives, chestnuts [why not add acoms — the Spanish edible acorn], the pulpy saccharine fruits, roots, stalks and leaves, and not unfre- quently the bark of trees, saw-dust, blubber, train- oil [oh, Esquimaux, wait for the eccaleobion !], with frogs and snails [Ancient Roman epicures, why did you keep snaileries ? French gourmands, why do you relish pate de grenouUles ?], these make up and constitute a good part of the food of the greater portion of the inhabitants of Europe. There is no other cause for this than the excessive ignorance of the population." — Treatise on Artifi- cial Incubation, by W. Bucknell, Esq. The writer means well, he was enthusiastic in his subject ; fowls were ever before his imagination, and the eccaleobion was to spread its blessings from Southern Europe even to the borders of the Arctic sea ; the rein-deer, and the whales, and the porpoises, and the seals, were to lead happy lives ; the Laplander, the Samoiede, and the dweller on the banks of the Lena, were to astonish their tribes by unknown birds, better than all their wild-ducks, hatched by means apparently miracu- lous. Blubber was to be scouted, roast chickens were to be in the ascendant ! Then, to come into the southern regions of the vine and the olive, the great snail, or helix j)oniatia, was to crawl about uncared for, and the edible frog, rana esculenta, was to croak and fatten unmolested in every ditch throughout sunny France. As for the labourers of oiu- island, after a hard day's ploughing or reaping, a good lump of fat bacon or pork and a dish of steaming potatoes was to be replaced by a pair of delicate chickens, nicely boiled and served with parsley and butter. All this was to be effected by the magic eccaleobion ! But to be seiious — What has the eccaleobion done ? Some years have passed since the great things it promised were to be effected, and since it was "a wonder and a show." This we know, that fowls are dear and not over plentiful ; two chickens, which any hearty man might have eaten, appeared this last day of July, 1848, on our frugal board, and on inquiry we were informed that their price was 5s. 6rf. We thought of the eccaleo- bion, the 5s. 6rf., and the promises made by the former. We have recently visited Mr. Cantelo's insti- tution, or, as he terms it, " model poultry farm," at Chiswick, close to the main road opposite Chiswick Lane. In this institution numbers of chickens, Guinea fowl, and ducks are raised by artificial heat most ingeniously applied by " top contact," so as to produce the same effect on the vitalized germ as the heat of the incubating hen. This heat has been proved by Mr. Cantelo to be as high as 106 degrees of Fahrenheit. The eggs are in fact hatched under artificial incubators, which allow the inferior portion of the egg to remain cool until warmed by the inward circulation of the blood, as occurs in natural incubation, but not when eggs are placed in ovens or heated apart- ments. "The difference," says Mr. Cantelo, " between top contact heat and that received from radiation as applied to hatching is this : by radiation or oven heat the eggs will be hours in arriving at the desired temperature, not only when first put to hatch, but at any time afterwards when they may have been allowed to get cool. The eggs of course will heat alike over their whole surface, and consequently evaporate equally from every part. On the contrary, heat applied in top contact pene- trates almost instantly and revivifies the germ, and although a much higher temperature is used in this case in imitation of nature, that is 106 instead of 98 degrees, still, inasmuch as but a small surface is heated, the loss of moisture is much less than by a radiating heat. The fowl leaves her nest every day in search of food for twenty or thirty minutes ; this must be imitated also, as the temporary loss of heat has the effect of causing the contents of the egg to diminish in bulk, and the vacuum is formed by a fresh supply (of air) drawn in for the nourishment of the germ. The eggs must be moved three times a-day, morning, noon, and night, which prevents the adhesion of any part of the fluid to the shell, and gives the small blood-vessels better opportunity to spread around the surface of the egg. This is effected by nature; •when the fowl leaves her nest or returns to it, she naturally disturbs the eggs, and also from any change she may make in her position while upon her nest." Mr. Cantelo thus describes the hydro-incubator. The form or method considered by the inventor as best calculated for the application of top contact heat to eggs during incubation is that of a current of warm water flowing over an impermeable or waterjjroof cloth, beneath which the eggs are placed. This is effected on a large scale by pumps, and in a small apparatus by the law of gravitation causing the warm particles to rise, and those that have become partially cooled to fall. A tank of water is kept continually at a tempera- ture of J 09 degrees, from the surface of which it will naturally flow over the waterproof cloth, a return pipe being so placed as to connect the outer end of the cloth with the bottom of the tank. The eggs are placed in drawers having open work or perforated bottoms, and they are laid on a piece of thin woollen cloth. The drawers are placed beneath the incubator, and raised so that the eggs come in contact with the waterproof cloth, but so as to allow a space between the sides of the drawers and the incubating cloth. These sides being lower than the top of the eggs, space is afforded for the air to circulate around them, as it rises through the bottom and passes out over the edges of the drawers. All this cannot be well understood without an inspection of Mr. Oantelo's ingenious apparatus ; to attempt to describe the artificial hydro-mother, and the various details connected with the plans adopted for rearing the chickens when hatched (of ■which we saw hundreds running about in their compartments, and nestling under their artificial mothers), would be futile. The whole plan cannot be properly conveyed to the reader by words, yet it is at once simple and efficient. The water is heated by slowly burning charcoal fires, in an apparatus most admirably contrived, and in the house there are fattening pens of the most approved construction. Mr. Cantelo informs us that his system is in operation at La Varenne de St. Maur, near Paris. But now returns the old question — Will it eventually answer, come into general operation, and render poultry plentiful and cheap? We answer. No. Take the following estimate of the cost, expenses of working, and profits of a five-tray patent hydro-incubator, for one (we acknowledge the Jirst) year — to produce, as asserted, twenty fowls a-day for market. 54i^ Cost of incubator 105 0 0 2 chicken-mothers, at ;ei5 15s. each . . 31 10 0 9000 eggs for 18 broods in the year, at Id. each 37 10 0 76 chickens from every 100 eggs gives 6760 chickens a-year, and the cost of their food up to 96 days old will be 8d. each (much more) . 225 0 0 Charcoal for the year 13 0 0 Expense of servants and clerks, say . . . 1.52 0 0 Rent of land (2 acres), say . . . . 6 0 0 Expense of building, offices, stores, houses, laying houses.roosting Souses, coops, fattening houses, &c.,&c., say 280 0 0 ^£850 0 0 Gain by 6750 chickens, at 2s. each ? . . , 675 0 0 Gain by guano of fowls as manure, estimated at 50 tons, collected at 60s., per ton, say ? . . 150 0 0 Gain by feathers, say ? 100 0 0 ^925 0 0 We acknowledge this calculation to be very different from those given by Mr. Cantelo ; he reckons nothing (nor have we) for the cost of two or three hundred laying hens ; great losses by mortality are not taken into the account ; food is reckoned too low ; the expenses of a horse, cart, and carter have to be put in, and those also of the carriage of eggs bought in the country, together with the cost of fattening, for ten days, each cooped fowl, necessary repairs, losses, &c., &c. ; besides, we reckon wages too low, as also the cost of building and the rent of land (at least near Lon- don). What market, again, is there for fowls' guano and fowls' feathers? We would ask, does Mr. Cantelo find his experimental fowl-farm pay? His figures show that it ought to return a fortune. But no ; these are all ingenious experiments, and as such are worth notice and deserving praise, but as for being of general practical utility in any sense, few we believe will entertain the opinion. Mr. Cantelo puts into the credit side of his balance sheet, the value of the incubator and chicken mothers ; who will buy them on the breaking-up of any establishment? They are not available stock in trade ; a good piano may fetch some- thing at a public auction, but who will bid for a hydro-incubator! We will say no more; in our humble opinion all these ingenious imitations of, and interferences with, nature, though they may flourish for a day (and flourish they cannot be said to do), will pass away as things that have never been. Yet Mr. Cantelo's " fowl-farm " is well worth a naturalist's visit. There is something like an analogy, or parallel- ism, between the vine and the fowl — abundant in the warmer climates, where it is really common food, it becomes scai'cer and scarcer as we advance to colder and more humid regions, with long winters and short summers ; and though in our island and the adjacent parts of Europe, grain growing countries, it is in plenty and perfection, yet a short journey will take us to where it is scarce, 542 and a little advance to where it is a rarity. No eccaleobion can make any alteration in this respect. But we must leave this part of our subject, for observations on other points. Feeding. — It is a bad practice to underfeed poultrj" — we should say that from the very first they should have good and solid food ; the store hens, for profit sake, should be got into laying condition as early as possible, and those intended for killing or selling off for the market should be kept up in good condition, really ready for the spit, and therefore rapid fatteners, for those who like, as some do, a gi-ease-laden fowl. We do not recom- mend that the choicest corn should be appropriated to the feathered bipeds of the farm, but we advo- cate good wholesome grain, which is not little less than mere refuse. How can poultry thrive on a poor diet; wheat, barley, buck- wheat, rye, oats, and oat-meal made into oat-cakes, will form the staple food,* potatoes steamed, mashed with oat- * We wonder that the sunflower (Helianthns annuun) is not grown in our country, for the sake of its seeds as valuable food for poultry, as well as for pigs, oxen, and other domestic animals. For this purpose, the seeds should be reduced to the state of meal, and this meal should be maiie into balls or cakes; indeed after express- ing the oil, which is valuable, the residue will form a cake of nutri- tious food. The seeds may also be given whole. Finches are very fond of them, so are fowls. Few persons, generally speaking, are aware of the Talue of the sun-flower, and could we persuade farmers and others to sow this plant, with a view to the feeding of their live stock, we should think that we had done some service. A small patch of ground in any corner, or a border along the hedge of a field, might be appropriated to its culture without infringement upon corn land. The reader will not be displeased with the following extract from the Penny Cyclopcsdia ; — " H. annuus, annual sunflower, is an herbaceous annual plant ■with thick rough stems from six to twenty feet in height; leaves alter- nate, petiolate, nearly heart-shaped, crenulated or dentated, rougli ; the heads are large, from one to two feet in diameter, and composed of a multitude of flowers of a beautiful yellow colour, terminal, soli- tary, inclined, the disc vertical and oftenest facing the south. This species is the largest of the genus: it is indigenous in Mexico and Peru; it was early introduced into Europe after the discovery of America, and has since been very generally cultivated in gardens, on account of its very large and handsome yellow flowers. The plant, however, in Europe never attains the height nor the flowers the size they do in their native soil and climate. The albumen of the seeds of this plant contains a large quantity of oil; and it has been proposed to cultivate it for the sake of obtaining this oil, which is very palatable, and might he used for the table. For this purpose the Society of Arts, some years ago, offered a prize for the raising a quantity of the seed ; some experiments were made, but they do not appear to have been followed up in this counti-y. In France it has been cultivated in fields to some extent, and from the variety of uses to which the plant may be applied, it would seem to deserve further attention. The quantity of oil to be obtained from the seeds varies; they do not produce so much in this country as in the south of France, nor so much there as in Spain and America. M. Henry found that twenty-five pounds of the achenia, when deprived of their pericarps, gave eight pounds of albumen, which yielded by expression, cold, thirteen ounces of a citron-coloured oil, and the same quantity hot yielded nineteen ounces of oil slightly acid In Spain the seeds are said to produce half their weight of oil. (Pouc^het, Traite de Botaniqiie, tom. ii., p. 193.) The fruit of this plant has been strongly recommended for feeding various kinds of domestic animals. Cows and oxen, horses, sheep, pigs, rabbits, and poultry are all fond of it. For this purpose the fruit should be reduced to the state of meal, and can either be given dry or made into a cake. The cake also that is left after expressing the oil, may be used for feeding animals. Small cage- birds, as canaries, finches, &c., are very fond of the seeds. When meal and given warm, constitute a nutritious food ; some recommend that the grain, especially the barley, wheat, and rje, be boiled before it is given to the fowls — it swells greatly by this process, and therefore a less quantity in reality fills the crop of the birds ; hence it is a saving plan, and much practised in France — but of course the fowls derive less nutriment from it than from the same measure of solid grain unboiled. For e.x^amj)le, four pints of barley when boiled will fill ten pint measures, four pints of buck- wheat will fill fourteen pint measures, four of wheat ten, and four of rye fifteen. Now suppose each growii fowl has a daily allowance of a quarter of a pint of grain, exclusive of whatever vegetables, seeds, and insects it may pick up, it follows that the boiled quarter of a pint of wheat will be equivalent to less than one-eighth of a pint of unboiled grain, so that, in fact, the fowl will be cheated as to the quantum of nutri- ment, though not in the measure of it. It is useless to argue that boiled grain is more nutri- tious than grain an naturel. The human stomach may require it to be boiled, but the digestive apparatus of the fowl is provided with a grinding mill for the express purpose of turning the grain into Hour, and hence nature points out what that food should be. With regard to feeding fowls for the table, much depends on circumstances. Spring chickens, especially when fine, sell at a high price — these may be put up for feeding as soon as the hen ceases to regard them, and before they lose their first good condition. In their fattening pens they will have no opportunity of picking up little pebbles, their mills therefore will be inoperative, and the diet must consequently be pultaceous, viz. bread and milk, barley-meal, or oatmeal and milk, the meal of steamed potatoes mixed with barley- meal, with the occasional addition of a few grains of cayenne pepper, as some recommend, or of dried nettle seeds, which the foreign feeders are in the habit of giving. Where chickens have the run of a good farm-yard, and plenty of food, it is a work of supererogation to pen them for fattening; they will be ready at any time for the table, and their flesh being in its healthy state, will be sweet and juicy, delicately tender, and sufficiently fat. Some indeed prefer fattened fowls, but this is a terrified, in the same manner as the seeds of coffee, they make an agreeable drink, which may be used as a substitute for that article. The liber of the bark of the stem is composed of a very tough woody tissue, which may be manufactured into twine and cordage, and a very good paper may also be made from the same ti>sue. The pith of this plant is almost entirely composed of the vegetable principle called medullin, and has been used in Russia for the manufacture of moxas for medical purposes. All parts of the plant contain a considerable quantity of nitre, and on this account when dried they form an excellent material for fuel. In the garden it is a handsome ornament, opening its large heads of flowers in July and August, which are then a favourite resort of bees." 543 matter of taste — to us the greasy fat of poultry is very disgusting. Mr. Mowbray found that pullets hatched in March, and constantly fed upon high diet, not only laid eggs abundantly in the autumn, but were, when killed in the month of Febmary or March following, as fat as any one could have desired thera to be, opening, as he says, more like Michaelmas geese than chickens. However, all poultry are not kept upon high diet, hence their fattening is in many instances necessary. For tolerably grown fowls, about three weeks' conhne- ment and feeding will suffice. Many poulterers give grease mixed with farinaceous food very largely, a diet upon which the fowls fatten rapidly, and indeed often become loaded with fat, which makes them look well to the eye ; but their flesh, if not disagreeable, is insipid, and altogether inferior to that of a fowl fed well and running at large about a plenty-stocked barn-yard previously to its execu- tion. The practice of cramming poultry in order to load their bodies with fat in as short a tirne as possible, is very common. The poor bird's diges- tive powers are thus taxed to the utmost — whether at the expense of health or not, let any one deter- mine. However this may be, it is a common course of treatment, and the poultry-feeders about Horsham in Sussex, and in Surrey, Essex, and Berkshire, will, it is said, fatten each perhaps two hundred fowls, ready for the market, in little more than a fortnight, each fowl weighing from five to seven, or even eight, lbs. In France the same practice prevails ; but there the poultry, instead of being fed by the hand exclusively, have their crops gorged by means of a machine, which will enable one man to cram as many as fifty birds in half an hour. It is an instrument on the principle of the stomach pump. The mouths of the birds are held open by the operator, and the crop is filled from a reservoir of pultaceous food, through a tube introduced into the pharynx. In the mean time, the prisoners are either closely confined (the cribs being contrived for cleanliness) in a dark place, or they have their eyes put out, as the most eff'ectual mode of keeping them in darkness. Some of the poulterers give the fowls a little henbane seed from time to time to induce a state of somnolency. In addition to all this, perhaps in order to render them cool under this treatment, and prevent that feverishness which must be expected from such unnatural overfeed- ing, they pluck the feathers from their heads, bellies, and wings, thus half denuding the wretched sufferers. Fowls thus treated attain to the desired state of perfection in about fifteen days, after this they decline, and if not killed would perish. In England the practice of making capons (that is, of emasculating the males), and also poulardes (that is, of rendering the hens unfertile), is not very extensive, though it is carried on in some counties. Cobbett was of opinion that no fowls, excepting fattened capons or poulardes, were good for anything ; the French appear to be much of his way of thinking in this respect, for in France the practice is very common. The motive is to produce a tendency to the acquisition of fat. The operation requires considerable skill and expertness of manipulation, and is said to be but seldom fatal. The birds (summer being the usual time in which it is performed) are confined when all is over in a place of cool temperature, and fed for a few days on good food. If no gangrene supervene, the incision, which was stitched up, soon heals, and the birds become ready for the process of fattening. Of the plan of training capons to the duty of tending chickens we have already spoken. It has been asserted that males in their altered condition lose nothing of the natural energy, pride, and spirit, for which the cock is so much distinguished, and that he still domineers over his companions ; but this is far from being correct : the capon is spiritless, his combs and gills are pallid, he ceases his crow of defiance, and is shunned or neglected by the troop of hens who would once have thronged around him Young cocks, and pullets of the largest size, and of a plump round form, are usually selected by preference for this transformation.* A full-sized fat capon will weigh from seven to ten pounds. As fowls are to be killed for the table, it may be as well to point out a merciful way of destroying them, a point on which few concern themselves. Fowls are never bled to death (like turkeys and geese), as, from the loss of blood, the flesh becomes dry and insipid. Poulterers and higglers either strain at the vertebroe of the neck till their dislo- cation takes place, or produce the same effect by a sudden twist. The former mode is very cruel, as it keeps the bird long in agony ; we ourselves have witnessed the execution with no pleasant feelings, and wish it to be discontinued : the second plan is more merciful, hut is not always skilfully managed, and requires considerable dex- terity. The best plan is to take a blunt stick such as a child's bat or boy's wooden sword, and strike the bird a smart blow at the back of the neck, about the third joint from the head ; death follows in a moment. DISEASES. Fowls are subject to various diseases, as apo- plexy, diarrhaa, rheumatism, the pip or thrush, the croup (often termed roup], the gapes, inflammation of the tail gland (also called the roup, though the • Mr. Younfr, in his Report on the County of SuiseK, observe! that much art and attention are requisite to make capons, and that the Sussex breed are too long in the body for succes» in the operation, by which many are lost. 644 term be improperly applied), and other diseases which are not understood. Now, let us at once confess our ignorance relative to the treatment of fowls under their many maladies. Their ailments have hitherto failed, with perhaps one exception, to attract scientific observation, and no wonder. Who attends to them ? what complaint do they make? and when they die, who, acquainted with the symptoms before death, makes a post-mortem examination, and then refers those symptoms to the morbid appearances which his scalpel has revealed ? We ourselves have examined after death hundreds of birds of all tribes and species, and have been able only to detect as the cause of their dissolution the following active disorders : — apoplexy, evidenced by inflammation of the mem- branes of the brain, or by effusion of blood within or upon it ; peritoneal inflammation, rapidly fatal ; inflammation of the lungs, including the bronchial tubes ; tracheal inflammation (or gapes), with parasitic worms in the wind-pipe (see observations on the calf) ; inflammation of the mucous memhrane of the intestines, evidenced by previous dysentery ; and inflammation or intumescence of the rump gland, symptomatic of a febrile condition. These are the post-mortem data which in most cases have been presented to us ; sometimes heart affections have come under our notice — indeed but lately we dissected a parrot which suddenly died, though in apparent good health, from a rupture of the right auricle of the heart. But what shall we say as to the treatment of fowls under disease ? very little. To speak the truth, neither are their diseases well understood, nor is the treatment of them anything but empyrical. (This observation applies to all our domestic poultiy.) Yet a few observations seem to be required. As to APOPLEXY, we can only say that it makes its attack in most instances without the slightest previous warning; could it be known that a bird was in danger of this exigency, means might perhaps be taken to insure safety. We have known hundreds of aviary birds, in the finest health apparently, drop dead from their perch, and, as our dissections have assured us, from this cause. They were overfed, they had not to exercise them- selves in the task of seeking for food, they had an allowance in unlimited measure, but had no according measure of muscular exertion ; they " did not earn their bread before they ate it," as wild birds do. " Experientia docet." We have no other advice to give as to the means of prevention. With respect to the PIP OR THRUSH, we regard it as a token of derangement of the mucous membrane of the alimentary canal gene- rally, and not as a local disease ; it is symptomatic. Its cure will be effected by low diet, that is (in the case of fowls) by an allowance of fresh vege- J table food mixed with potatoes and a little oat- I meal, granting at the same time a plentiful supply * of pui'e water. Give of castor-oil a teaspoonful or thereabouts, according to age and strength. Do not scrape the tongue, nor use rough modes of cleaning it, but apply a little borax, dissolved in tincture of myrrh and water, by means of a camel- hair pencil, two or three times a-day. We should here observe that the symptoms of pip consist in a thickening of the membrane lining the tongue and palate, which causes an obstruction to free inspiration, and makes the poor sufferer gasp for breath ; the plumage becomes ruffled, the bird mopes and pines, the appetite fails and is at last utterly extinguished, the bird at length dying, worn out by fever and starvation. There is a very fatal disease called GAPES (inflammation OF THE TRACHEa) to which all our domestic gallinaceous birds, as well as pheasants and partridges, are subject, and which often occasions great mortality. In the first instance it appears to arise from a croupy or catarrhal affection, which is indicated by running at the nostrils, watery eyes, alteration of voice, and loss of appetite and spirits. The bird dies. If the trachia be examined it will be found replete with narrow worms, about half an inch in length, imbedded in slimy mucus. This singular worm is the syngann(s trachealis or distoma lineare. It consists of a long and short body united together ; the long body is the female, the short body the male, each, were it not that they are permanently united together, being an animal distinct and perfect in itself. Whether these parasitic worms are the cause or consequence of the disease we pretend not to say, nor can we tell how they become introduced into the trachea; this, however, seems certain, that their removal is requisite to give the feathered patient a chance of recovery. This can be done by means of a feather, neatly trimmed, which is to be introduced into the windpipe and turned round once or twice and then drawn out; it will dislodge the worms and bring back many of them adhering with slime unto it. This plan requires great dexterity and some knowledge of the anatomy of the parts ; a slow unskilful operator may kill the already half-suffocated bird instead of curing it. Another mode of destroying these worms is by putting the birds in a box, and making them inhale the fumes of tobacco, thrown into it through the stalk of a tobacco pipe. Some recommend the forcing of tobacco smoke down the bird's throat, and others that the mouth be crammed with snuff, while many place faith in the efficacy of a pinch of salt introduced into the back part of fi45 the mouth. Let us suggest something like a scientific mode of treatment. Give a grain of calomel made up with bread into a pill, or two or three grains of Plummer's pill (pil. hydr. submiir. CO., London Pharmacopoeia), after which let flower of sulphur be administered, with a little ginger, in pultaceous food composed of barley-meal. In the meantime let the bird be kept in a dry warm shed or room apart from the rest of the fowls, as we suspect the disease to be infectious. Let the mouth and beak be washed with a weak solution of chloride of lime. In what roup (not the inflam- mation of the tail gland, often so called) differs from this laryngeal disease we do not know; we suspect the word to be a corruption of croup, and this latter term is truly applicable to the nialady in question. Wet, ill-feeding, an ill-ventilated fowl- house, confinement on a spot or plot of ground tenanted year after year by fowls without attention to cleanliness, to renovation of the soil, and a proper allowance of gravel, ashes, fresh vegetables, &c., these are the causes which produce this and many other diseases. At the same time be it observed, the gapes is an epidemic disease, and often thins the preserves of pheasants and the coveys of partridges. We think, but will not speak posi- tively, that it prevails more especially after rainy seasons, or during the continuance of unusually damp, foggy, and chilly weather. With regard to pheasants, we recommend high feeding as a pre- ventative ; as for partridges and grouse, they feed more at will than do pheasants, which latter may be said to be in a state of almost semi-domestication, and under surveillance. INFLAMMATION OF THE LUNGS, including the bronchial tubes, is not uncommon. Its symptoms are quick breathing, often with a rattle or rale veiy audible, dulness, disorder of plumage, vacancy in the eye, and indisposition to stir. Death is not to be prevented by any ren^edy we can point out. Why then should we pretend to enlarge in a series of directions? Human patients can explain their feelings, cattle to a certain degree indicate them, and speak in dumb eloquence ; but birds give little indications by voice or manner leading to what the medical man calls a diagnosis. Besides, how are we to bleed a bird. Few, perhaps, have had more experience with respect to birds, or dissected more, than the writer, and yet we cannot lay down any directions on the point. In fact, the skin of most birds is very thin, it is unsupported by a thick mass of cellular tissue, and the vessels which ramify upon it are minute, none presenting a fair chance for successful venesection. To cut and wound a bird at random for the purpose of obtaining a flow of Vlood is barbarous. PERITONEAL INFLAMMATION, OB PERITONITIS. This disease runs so rapid a course, that death not unfrequently occurs, before any marked symp- toms have appeared indicative of active disease. The bird, perhaps, appears a little drooping, it refuses to eat, but as it is highly fed this circum- stance occasions no surprise, it retires to its roost, and is found dead in the morning. Examination at once reveals the cause of death; the peritoneal membrane exhibits all the indications of active inflammation. We have noticed the occurrence of the same disease among carnivorous mammalia. An animal appears to be as well as usual, at least it attracts no observation, hut it dies suddenly. On opening the body the cause is manifest — Peritonitis has done its work. The same obsei-vations apply to INFLAMMATION OF THE HEART AND PERICARDIUM. Of this disease we have seen no example in the common fowl, but several times in parrots, and also in caged mammalia. The symptoms are obscure, and as for treatment, even could we determine the existence of the disease, nothing that we are aware of can be of any real service. INFLAMMATION OF THE MUCOUS MEMBRANE OF THE INTESTINAL CANAL is usually evinced by Dysentery. The bird pines, it is purged, in a little time the evacuations become more or less tinged with blood, and death ensues. Damp and improper food are the causes of this affection. It can be treated with success only in the early stage. First give a small quantity of castor-oil, this will clear the bowels of irritating secretions, afterwards let the bird have doses of the Hydrarciynirn cum cretd (of the London Pharmacopoeia), rhubarb,,and laudanum — Of the hyflr. cum creta, 3 grains. „ rhubarb 2 or 3 grains. „ laudanum 2, 3, or 4 drops. Mix in a teaspoonful of gruel, or gum-water. To be given once or twice a-day. SIMPLE DIARRHCEA may be generally cured by a change of diet, and a little chalk given in gruel. CONSTIPATION OF THE BOWELS will yield to castor-oil, and a diet upon oatmeal porridge and green vegetables. We have seen both fowls and pigeons affected with a sort of ASTHMA, evidenced by difficulty of breathing and a wheezing rattling noise, on inspiration. It is the result of a thickening of the bronchial tubes from previous in- 546 flammation, often accompanied by an alteration in the structure of the cellular tissue of a portion of the lungs. We can lay down no rational plan of treatment likely to effect a cure. INFLAMMATION AND INTUMESCENCE OF THE EUMP GLAND is generally symptomatic of a febi-ile condition of the system. To this affection the term roup (an indefinite term for all the diseases of poultry) is often applied. The treatment is simple ; let the swelling be opened by a lancet, and the matter gently squeezed out ; afterwards foment well with warm water, put the bird upon a diet of oatmeal and green vegetables, and if necessaiy give a tea- spoonful of castor-oil. Be sure that the roosting place is clean and well ventilated. MOULTING. This process is natural, and consists in the gradual exchange of old feathers for new ones, nevertheless it often happen that birds in a state of domestication, especially while young, have not sufficient vital energy for the accomplishment of the change. They require improved diet, warmth, and good water; of course we suppose that their roosting place is properly sheltered and ventilated ; a grain or two of cayenne pepper made into a pill with bread, may be given daily with advantage ; saffron is useless, but a nail or any bit of iron may be put into the drinking- trough, in order to render the water chalybeate. Fowls are subject to a loss of feathers, which must not be confounded with moulting. At first the plumage appears rutBed and disarranged, then the feathers begin to drop out, and continue to fall till the bird is greatly denuded ; in the meantime it is dull and destitute of appetite, and becomes thin and feeble. We have generally observed this disease among poultry kept in a limited space, debarred from exercise and good air, with a wet soil beneath them, having little or no gravel, nor any dusting place in which to clean their plumage. This disease is analogous to the mange in cattle, and is not easily cured — a change of diet, good air, cleanliness, and a dusting place (or as some call it, a diist-hath), are essential ; some recommend small quantities of sulphur and nitre mixed with butter to be daily given. A sudden change in the colour of the plumage, from fear, has been occasionally known to take place. We knew an instance of this kind in Essex; a cock belonging to a friend was dreadfully frightened by a dog, if we remember rightly, and became white, but he recovered his natural plu- mage on the next moult. In the Proceedings of the Zoological Society for 1835, p. ,54, the following note, extracted by Sir Robert Heron, Bart., from his journal, is not without interest: — " 1821-2. A black Poland cock belonging to my friend and neighbour, Mr. Kendall, of Bansley, was seized last winter, near the house, by a fox, but his screams being heard by the servants, he was rescued, desperately wounded, with the loss of half his feathers. In time the remainder of his feathers came off, and he is now become perfectly white." This seems to have some relation to the human hair becoming white at once from fear. In concluding our account of the common fowl, we cannot omit to notice that hybrids between this bird and the pheasant are by no means uncommon as curiosities. We have seen several from time to time in the gardens of the Zoological Society of London, but there is nothing in them to claim admiration. They have neither the re- splendent plumage nor the slim delicate contour of the pheasant, nor yet the proud and easy carriage of the fowl. They are unproductive, at least between themselves, nor are we sure that they will inter- breed either with the pure fowl or pheasant. CHAPTER IV. HISTORY OF THE TURKEY, THE PEAFOWL, THE GUINEA-FOWL, AND THE CURASSOW. That it should be difficult if not impossible to trace the progress of the domestic fowl, from its aboriginal seat to the remote regions of Western Europe, will not excite surprise, when we consider the remote epoch at which it became reclaimed, and the many changes of empires, and nations, and tongues, and the loss of records throughout the vast regions of Asia and Europe. But that we cannot fix the precise time, nor can learn any of the circumstances which relate to the intro- duction of the turkey into Europe, may cause some astonishment, when we reflect that its intro- duction must have occurred at some period after the conquest of America, and not probably till after a considerable lapse of years, and the establish- ment of the Spaniards in Mexico. Cortes, in 1519, landed at the place where Vera Cruz now stands, but it was not until after two years of laborious warfare that the Spanish power became in the ascendant, and opened the way for Spanish emi- gration to Mexico. There is, however, reason to believe that previously to the Spanish conquest the turkey was in a domesticated condition, both in Mexico and in the adjacent islands, for Oviedo, 647 who embarked for the West Indies in 1514, and resided as governor of the Fort and Harbour of St. Domingo, in the island of Hayti, then called Hispaniola, published among other works (some very voluminous) one entitled Tradado de la Natural Historia de las Lidias, which was pub- hshed at Toledo in 15"2(3. In this work he describes the turkey as a kind of peacock abound- ing in New Spain, whence numbers had been transported to the islands and the Spanish main, and were domesticated in the houses of the christian inhabitants. It must be observed that he calls the whole of that part of America las Indias, the Indies, and also las Iiidias accidentales, the West Indies (a name still applied to certain islands), hence perhaps the terms Coq d'Inde, Gallo d'India, and Indianische Halm, originally arose— terms, however, which if they did thus originate, seemed to have conveyed a general idea of this species being the native of Asiatic India ; and under this impression, and that it was a bird known to the Greeks and Romans, a bird, as the fable states, into which the sisters of Meleagre were transformed, while weeping for the loss of their brother, it obtained, among the learned, the title of meleaijiis. Belon was one of the first who considered the turkey to be the meleafiris of the ancients, and this is the more extraordinary as he was a scholar of eminence, and the passages in which the viehagris is mentioned, sufficiently prove that it Could not have been a turkey. Aldrovandus, Gesner, and others followed in the wake of Belon. Linnaeus, though unfortunately he retains the name of meleagris, stamping the error thereby with the weight of his authority, well knew that the turkey was a native of the New World, for he places its habitat " in America Septentriouali ;" he was also perfectly aware that it was the parent stock of the domesticated breed, for he gives brief but excellent directions for the care of the young, and expressly mentions their favourite fuoii — " Pulli delectantur allio, urtica ; a fame et jluvia cavendi," that is, the young relish the onion and the nettle, and must be taken heed of against hunger and raiii. It is generally known that curd, the green part of onions chopped small, and boiled nettles, are among the best kinds of food for turkey chicks, whose very existence depends upon regular feeding and protection from rain. Barrington (ITHl) is the last writer of any note who supported the theory that the turkey was the meleagris of the ancients. It is true that when he wrote the existence of the large flocks in a wild state in North America was not generally known, though many of the older writers (Lawson and others) mention them. Pennant in a masterly manner exposes the errors of tliis theory, which was once so generally entertained ; and in the present day we can only wonder that it was ever entertained. We must, however, remark that M. Temminck, in the fourth part of his Manuel{\QlQ), quotes M. Cantraine, who states that the inhabi- tants of Sicily and Dalmatia declare that wild turkeys have been killed in those countries. M. Temminck justly considers these statements as very doubtful ; but, allowing them to be true, there would be nothing to prove that these wild or feral birds are not the descendants of individuals which had escaped from the dominion of man, and, favoured by climate, soil, and productions, multi- plied a race exempt from his immediate juris- diction. In the island of Hayti the Guinea-fowl, originally brought with negro slaves from Guinea, is now wild ; but what is more, wild turkeys formerly tenanted Richmond Park, and especially Windsor Forest ; and there is no doubt that if some of the wild stock from America were procured and turned into the royal forests, or such parks as some of our nobility possess, under proper care and surveillance, they would make a noble addition to the birds included under the head of " game ;" they would be even more independent than phea- sants. Even the domestic breed (the bronzed- black being preferred) might be very soon brought to return to their wild habits, and would in a very short time stock the woods with an independent progeny. With respect to the generic title, meleagris, so unfortunately adopted by Linnaeus, it is now generally received, and any attempt to change it would be useless ; this, indeed, is of the less consequence, as it can no longer mislead — we only smile at the erroneous theory of Belon, Gesner, and Aldrovandus. The English name, turkey, it is somewhat diflicult to account for, except on the supposition that it was generally believed to come from that country ; perhaps, however, it was given because the bird was a stranger, in the same way as we apply the term Goth to men nade and barbarous in their habits, or the term Turk, to persons of a savage and tyrannical disposition ; words often become perverted from their original signification and merge into nicknames expressive of supposed qualities or conditions of things. About the time when this bird appears first to have been known in England, the Turkish power was held in dread in Europe. The sultan, Soliman or Suliman the Great reigned from 1520 to 1566 ; his fleet was then the first in the world, and the scourge of the Mediterranean ; his ships ravaged the coasts of Italy and Spain, and his armies laid waste the territories of Hungary and some adjacent parts of Germany, and the dread of the Turks was universal over Europe. It might be that the outlandish aspect of this bird, its deep guttural notes, its haughty carriage, and irascible disposition, led to 548 the imposition of the name. But, whatever gave rise to this appellation, certain it is that the present species was the subject of much confusion and doubt among the earlier modern ornithologists, whose learned discussions tended to perplex rather than clear up any points of difficulty. John Wal- cott, a writer on British birds, 1789, says, "The turkey was first brought to England about the year 1521," but he gives no authority. It is certain that in the reign of Henry VIII. the turkey was pretty general in England. In his history of the carp [British Fishes), Mr. Yarrell quotes an old couplet which runs thus : — " Turkeys, carps, hops, pickerel!, and beer, Came into England ail in one year." "The old couplet (adds Mr. Yarrell) is certainly erroneous ; pike or pickerell were the subjects of legal regulations in the time of Edward the First. Carp are mentioned in the Boke of St. AUham, printed in 1469. Turkeys and hops were unknown till 15'24, previous to which wormwood and other bitter plants were used to preserve beer; and the parliament, in 1528, petitioned against hops as a wicked weed. Beer was licensed for exportation by Henry the Seventh in 1492, and an excise on beer existed as early as 1284, also in the reign of Edward the First." About the year 1524, then, as it would appear, the tui-key was introduced into our island, but whether from Spain, or direct from America, we cannot tell. However, the species soon began to multiply, a fact which evinces the attention paid to it, for, as we shall have to notice more explicitly, the successful rearing of broods is by no means easy, from the extreme tenderness of the young. In 1541, we find the turkey enumerated among the luxuries of the table ; Archbishop Cranmer (Lelmid's Collectanea) ordered that at festivals there should be no more than one dish of cranes, swans, and turkey cocks. In 1555, two turkeys and two turkey poults were served up at the inau- gation dinner of the Sergeants at Law in London ; they cost four shillings each, while the swans were rated at ten shillings, and the capons at half-a- crown (Dugdale, Orig. Jiid.) In 1573, Tusser, in his " Five hundred Points of good Husbandry" mentions these birds as fonming part of the Christ- mas fare of the farmer. At what period France and Germany received the turkey, we cannot exactly discover, but most probably at about the same period as England. Everywhere its intrin- sic value would make it acceptable, and cause it to be treated with the most careful attention. The dispersion of the turkey is not, however, so complete as that of the fowl. In India, Colonel Sykes informs us that it is reared in great numbers by the Portuguese, and that it is met with only in a domestic state {Catal. of Birds of Dukhun, Zool. Proceeds. 1832, p. 151). We cannot learn that it is reared in China, where the fowl and duck abound, nor does it appear to have a place among the domestic birds of Persia, though in Mr. Kitto's account of Palestine both the turkey and the peacock are mentioned. There is a story told in a work called the Sketches of Persia, which runs to the following effect. When two English gentlemen, who were on their way to the city of Shiraz, arrived at the town of Kazeroon, they heard so strange an account of two remarkable creatures that were to be seen at a village fifteen miles distant, that they determined to go and see them. "They are very like birds (said their informants), for they have feathers and two legs ; but then their head is bare and has a fleshy look, and one of them has a long black beard upon his breast ;" but the chief point on which they dwelt, was the strangeness of their voice, unlike that of any other bird they had ever heard or seen. An old man, who had gone all the way from Kazeroon to see them, said that the sound was very much like that of the Arabic language, but added, that though he had listened to them with the greatest attention, he had not been able to understand a word they said. As it was very unpleasant weather, and the roads were exceedingly bad, the English- men were much fatigued by the time they got to the village in which the strange ci'eatures were. The people of the village took them to the house where the animals were kept, the door was opened, and out marched a turkey cock and hen. The former seemed to rejoice much in his release from his confinement, and began to gobble his Arabic with great vehemence. Though vexed at having taken a tedious journey for nothing, yet the travellers could not iielp laughing at the denouement. The people were, however, exceedingly surprised, when in- formed that these strange creatures were very common in India and England. It seemed that the birds had escaped from a vessel which had been wrecked in the Gulf of Persia, and had gradually made their way to the place where they then were. Although, as we have said, the exact time and the circumstances, under which the turkey was introduced into the various countries of Europe, are in some obscurity, still the wild origin of the domestic stock is not only well known, but still abounds in some of the wooded districts of North America remote from colonization. The genus meleagris belongs to the family pavonidiB of Swainson, and appears to be united on the one side, through the horned pheasant of the Himalaya, genus tragopan, to the more typical phasianidtF, and on the other to the peacock, and more typical pavonida, through the Chinese pea- cock-pheasants, genus polyplectron, birds of exqui- site plumage. 649 The genus meleagrls is thus characterized : — Bill strong, curved, convex, and vaulted, its base furnished with a naked skin; a fleshy caruncle surmounting the bill, of an erectile nature, conical in form, and greatly developed in the male ; head and neck surrounded by a wrinkled mammillated or carunculated skin, changeable in its colour from pale pink to scarlet and violet, and hanging in I loose folds or racemous clusters over the upper part of the breast; a tuft of long black bristly hairs, or rather hair-like feathers, on the breast of the male, above the upper edge of the sternum ; tarsi strong, armed in the male with a short stout spur, which in birds of a year old is merely a rudiment ; hind toe touching the ground ; middle of the anterior toes much longer and stouter than the two external ; claws large, arched, and thick ; country North America, especially the southern and western districts. Two species only are known to naturalists, viz. meleagris gallopavo, the origin of the domestic stock, and mdeagrls ocellata, a bird which in the metallic splendour and varying tints of its plu- mage rivals the peacock. It is to the former of these species that our chief attention will be directed, but as we cannot omit some notice of the latter, we shall make a few observations upon it before we attend to the common wild turkey, altliough it is of far more recent discovery, and therefore ought in strictness to be the second in rotation. 1. The Honduras Turkey (^Meleagris ocel- lata, Cuvier Mem. Mus. ; vi. pi., col. 112). No one who has seen specimens of this splendid bird can hesitate to acknowledge its specific distinctiveness from the common wild turkey — not more distinct is the golden pheasant from the common, than the Honduras turkey from its more extensively spread relative. The first specimen which appeared in this country was one exhibited in Bullock's Museum, and which, at the sale of that rich collection, was allowed to pass from England to Paris, and is now in the national museum of that capital. Its capture occurred as follows : — The crew of a vessel were cutting wood in the Bay of Hon- duras, when three individuals in full splendour made their appearance. One of these they managed to capture alive, and it was destined as a present to Sir Henry Halford. Unfortu- nately, it met with an accident while the vessel was in the Thames, which caused its death. Sir Henry presented it to Mr. Bullock, who then ex- hibited his museum in the Egyptian Hall, Picca- dilly. Fortunately, there is at the present time a noble specimen in the British Museum. The Honduras turkey is inferior to the com- mon turkey in size, nor is the tail so much developed ; but what pencil can do justice to its refulgence ? The metallic hues and iridescence of its plumage rival those of the humming bird. The following is a portion of Cuvier's description, and may serve to convey an idea of its beauty : — The feathers generally are rounded at the ends, those of the lower part of the neck, upper part of the back, scapulars, and all the lower part of the body bronze green, with two teruiinal bands, the fii-st black, the last, or that next the tip, of a golden bronze hue. The tints on the other parts of the back are the same, but near the tail-coverts they are more vivid, the bronze becoming of a ricli blue or emerald green, according to the inci- dence of the light, whilst the outer band becomes broader and more golden. Red mingles with the tints on the rump, where the plumage almost assumes the brilliant character of that of some of the humming birds, and the bright border is separated from the blue by a band of velvety black. The hidden part of each feather is gray, mottled with black ; and, indeed, upon the tail and upper coverts this gray is shown forming bars, one of which immediately succeeding the blue band, surrounds it and gives each feather an ocel- lated appearance. The tail coverts and lower feathers of the rump are so disposed that there are four rows with these ocellated tips. The tail, consisting of fourteen feathers only, is rounded. Lower parts of the body banded with bronze black and green, but wanting the lustre of the upper parts. Quills and spurious wing black edged obliquely with white, which occupies the external margin of the first almost entirely. Outer webs of the secondaries pure white, not showuig the bands on the centre when the wings are closed ; the uppermost blotched in the centre with black shot with green, which, as the feathers shorten, extends more over their surface, so as to leave only a white edge. Greater coverts chestnut. Feet and legs lake red. Except, perhaps, in some of the dense untrodden woods of Yucatan and of Central America, from Cape Honduras to the tenth or thirteenth degree of latitude, north, this bird might be sought for in vain. Even in these countries it is probably rare, excepting in. isolated spots, where it roams remote from human habita- tions. Of its peculiar habits and manners no- thing is positively known. We may, however, suppose them to resemble, to a great degree, those of the common species. Could it be naturalized in our island, or in Europe, what a splendid addi- tion we should have to the list of our domestic poultry ! Could it be introduced as a semi-wild bird in the parks of royalty and nobility, what a glorious species would be added to the list of " game ! " 2. The Common Turkey (Meleagris gallopavo). — As this species is confessedly the origin of all our domestic varieties, a description of it as it exists 3 3 550 in a state of nature cannot but prove interesting. Bartram, the Prince of Canino, and Audubon, liave given graphic pictures of the habits of this bird, founded upon actual observation of the flocks in their native woods, and upon these authorities must our history be founded. Tlie wild turkey closely resembles the bronzed black breed of our island, but the tail is always terminated by a broad dusky yellow band, above which is a narrow mottled band, and above this a broad band of black. The following description of the male, female, and young of the wild bird is taken, with some abridgment, from the Prince of Canino (Chai-les Lucieu Bonaparte) : — The vwie wild turkey, -when full grown, is nearly four feet in length, and more than five in extent of wing. The irides are dark brown. The head (which is veiy small in proportion to the body) and half of the neck are covered by a naked bluish skin continued over the upper half of the neck and uneven with warty elevations, change- able red on the upper portion and whitish below, interspersed with a few scattered black hairs. The flaccid and membranous naked skin, also changeable on the lower part of the neck, extends downwards into large wattles. A wrinkled conical fleshy protuberance, capable of elongation and with a pencil of bail's at the tip, takes its rise from the base of the bill, where the latter joins the front. Wien this excrescence is elongated under excitement, it covers the bill and depends several inches below it. A tuft of long rigid black hair springs from the lower part of the neck at its junction with the breast, shooting out from among the plumage to the length of nine inches. The base of the feathers of the body, which are long and truncated, consists of a light fuliginous down ; this part of the feather is suc- ceeded by a dusky portion, which is again followed by a broad shining metallic band, vaiying from • copper colour or bronze to violet or purple, accord- ing to the play of the light, and the tip is a broad velvety band ; but this last is absent in the feathers of the neck and breast. The general plumage presents a glancing metallic lustre, which is, however, least glossy on the lower part of the back and tail coverts. The wings are concave and rounded, not extending much if at all beyond the base of the tail. Quills twenty-eight ; pri- maries blackish banded with white, secondaries whitish banded with blackish, tinged towards the back particularly with brownish yellow. Tail fifteen inches in length at least, rounded at the extremity ; the feathers eighteen, broad, and capable of expansion and elevation into a fan- shape. The general colour of these feathers is brown mottled with black, crossed by numerous narrow, undulating lines of the same. There is a broad black band near the tip, then a short mot- tled portion, and lastly a broad dingy yellowish band. The bird stands rather high on its robust red legs, the scales of which have blackish mar- gins, and the blunt spurs are about an inch long ; the claws are dusky. Bill reddish, but horn- coloured at the tip. The female, at the age of about four or five years, attains her full size and colouring. At this age hens have the pectoral fascicle of hair de- veloped to the extent of four or five inches, which, according to Mr. Audubon, they exhibit a little in the second year if not barren. But this fascicle is much thinner than that of the male. Barren hens do not obtain this distinction until a very advanced age, and, being preferable for the table, the hunters single them from the flock, and kill them in preference to the others. The female wild turkey is more frequently furnished with the hairy tuft than the tame one, and this appendage is gained earlier in life. The great number of young hens without it has, no doubt, given rise to the incorrect assertion of a few writers that the female is always destitute of it. The weight of the hen generally averages about nine pounds avoirdupois, but Mr. Audubon has shot barren hens in strawberiy time weighing as much as thirteen pounds. The irides are similar in colour to those of the male. Bill and spurless legs less stout. Head and neck with less of naked skin, being partially covered with dirty gi'ay feathers. Those on the back of the neck have brownish tips, and so produce a longitudinal band there ; the short canmcle on the front is incapable of elongation. Prevailing hue of plumage dusky gray, each feather having a metallic band duller than in the male, then a blackish band, and lastly a grayish fringe. The blackish band is almost obliterated on the neck feathers and under siu*- face. The whole plumage is more sombre than that of the male ; there is less white on the pri- maries, and there are no bands on the secondaries. 651 The colour of the tail is much as it is in the male. Length not exceeding three feet and a quarter. The young of both sexes resemble each other so closely before the naked membrane acquires its tinge of red as to be scarcely distinguishable. The females, however, when a few days old, are somewhat larger than the males, and have a weaker piping note. The males then begin to stand higher on their legs, which are stronger than those of the females, and soon exhibit the rudiments of spurs. Ou the approach of the first winter, the young males show a rudiment of beard or fascicle of hairs on the breast, consisting of a mere tubercle, and attempt to strut and gobble. The second year the hairy tuft is about three inches long ; in the third the turkey attains its full stature, though it certainly increases in size and beauty for several years longer. The concealed portion of the plumage on the anterior portion of the back is sprinkled with pale fer- ruginous, which disappears as the bird advances in age. The weight of the hen, as we have said, averages about nine pounds, but the males far exceed the females, and differ considerably in bulk and weight. " From the accounts," says Bonaparte, " which 1 have received from various parts of the Union, fifteen or twenty pjuuds may be considered a fair statement of their madium weight ; but birds of thirty pounds are not very rare, and I have ascertained the existence of some weighing forty. Mr. Audubon saw one in the Louisville market that weighed thirty-six pounds. The pectoral appendage of this bird measured more than a foot in length." The older writers appear to have been given to exaggeration, for they describe the weight of male turkeys as amounting to fifty or even sixty pounds. It is uot unlikely, however, that they were deceived by erroneous information, or that they gave the weight of the birds by guess. M. Duponceau, so well known by his philolo- gical researches, has given a table of the names of the wild turkey in twenty-six Indian languages. From these, for curiosity's sake, we shall select a few examples : — Algonkin, mississai/ ; Cherokee, kabma, uocoocoo ; Creeks, pineivau ; Ossage, male, sukah-tingah, female, inchuga-sukah ; Ottos, wa- ek-kung-ja; Unquachog (Long Island), nahiam ; Choctaws, oopuh — (English pronunciation). The wild turkey is a noble bird, far exceeding its domestic relative both in size and beauty. Crosses, however, in America often take place between the wild and tame race, and are highly valued, both for external qualities and for the table. Indeed, in districts where the wild turkey is common, such crosses are very frequent, the wild male driving away his domesticated rival, and usurping the suUanship of the seraglio. Eggs of the wild turkey have been frequently taken from their nests, and hatched under the tame hen. The young preserve a portion of their uncivilized nature, and exhibit some knowledge of the differ- ence between themselves and their foster mother, roosting apart from the tame ones, and in other respects showing the force of hereditary disposi- tion. The domesticated young reared from the eggs of tlie wild turkey are often employed as decoy birds to those in a state of nature. Mr. William Bloom of Clearfield, Pennsylvania, caught five or six wild turkeys when quite chickens, and succeeded in rearing them. Although sufficiently tame to feed with his tame turkeys, and generally associate with them, yet they always retained some of their original propensities, roosting by them- selves, and higher than the tame birds, generally on the top of some tree or of the house. They were also more readily alarmed. On the approach of a dog, they would fly off and seek safety in the nearest woods. On an occasion of this kind, one of them flew across the Susquehanna, and the owner was apprehensive of losing it. In order to recover it, he sent a boy with a tame turkey, which was released at the place where the fugitive h.id alighted. This plan was successful. They soon joined company, and the tame bird induced his companion to return home. Mr. Bloom re- marked that the wild turkey will thrive more and keep in better condition than the tame on the same quantity of food. The native country of the wild turkey extends from the north-western territory of the United States to the Isthmus of Panama, south of which it is not to be found, notwithstanding the state- ments of authors who have mistaken the curassow for it. In Canada; and the now densely-peopled parts of the United States, wild turkeys were formerly very abundant, but, like the Indian buffalo, they have been compelled to yield to the destructive ingenuity of the white settlers, often wantonly exercised, and seek refuge in the re- motest parts of the interior. Although they relinquish their native soil with slow and reluctant steps, yet such is the rapidity with which settle- ments are extended and condensed over the sur- face of this country, that we may anticipate a day at no distant period when the hunter will seek the wild turkey in vain. The wooded parts of Arkansas, Louisiana, Tennessee, and Alabama, the unsettled portions of the states of Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana, and Illinois, the vast expanse of territory north-west of these states, on the Mississippi and Missouri, as far as the forests extend, are more supplied than any other parts of the Union with this valu- able game, which forms an important part of the subsistence of the hunter and traveller in the J J 2 552 wildeiTiess. It is not probable tbat the rantie of this bird extends to or beyond tlie Rocky Moun- tains. The Mandan Indians, who a few years ago visited the city of Washington, considered the turkey one of the greatest curiosities they had seen, and prepared a skin of one to carry home for exhibition. In Florida, Georgia, and the Carolinas, the ■wild turkey is not common, and still less so in the •western parts of Virginia and Pennsylvania. Some, however, are said to exist in the mountainous dis- tricts of Sussex County, New Jersey. The wild turkey is irregularly migratory, as well as irregularly gregarious. Whenever the forest fruits (or mast) of one portion of the country greatly exceeds that of another, thither are the turkeys insensibly led. By gradually meeting in their haunts with more fruit, the nearer they advance towards the place in which it is most plentiful. Thus, in an irregular manner, flock follows flock, until some districts are deserted, while others are crowded with an influx of arrivals. " About the beginning of October," says Audubon, " when scarcely any of the seeds and fruits have fallen from the trees, these birds assemble in flocks, and gradually move towards the rich bottom lands of the Ohio and Mississippi. The males, or, as they are more commonly called, the gobblers, associate in parties of from ten to a hundred, and search for food apart from the females, while the latter are seen either advancing singly, each with its brood of young, then about two-thirds grown, or in union with other families, forming parties often amounting to seventy or eighty individuals, all intent on shunning the old cocks, which, when the young birds have attained this size, will fight with and often destroy them by repeated blows on the head. Old and young, however, all move in the same course, and on foot, unless their pro- gress be interrupted by a river, or the hunter's dog force them to take wing. " When they come upon a river, they betake themselves to the highest eminences, and there often remain a whole day, and sometimes two, as if for the purpose of consultation. During this time the males are heard gobbling, calling, and making much ado, and are seen sti-utting about, as if to raise their courage to a pitch befitting the emergency. Even the females and young assume something of the same pompous demeanour, spread out their tails, and run round each other, purring loudly, and performing extravagant leaps. At length, when the weather appears settled, and all around is quiet, the whole party mounts to the tops of the highest trees, whence at a signal, con- sisting of a single cluck, given by a leader, the flock takes flight for the opposite shore. The old and fat bii-ds easily get over, even should the river be a mile in breadth, but the younger and less robust frequently fall into the water — not to be drowned, however, as might be imagined ; they bring their wings close to their body, spread out their tail as a support, stretch forward their neck, and striking out their legs with great vigour, pro- ceed rapidly towards the shore ; on approaching which, should they find it too steep for landing, they cease their exertions for a few moments, float down the stream until they come to an accessible part, and, by a violent effort, generally extricate themselves from the water. It is re- markable that, after immediately crossing a large stream, they ramble about for some time, as if bewildered. In this state they fall an easy prey to the hunter. " When the turkeys arrive in parts where the mast is abundant, they separate into smaller flocks, composed of birds of all ages and both sexes, promiscuously mingled, and devour all be- fore them. This happens about the middle of November. So gentle do they sometimes become after these long journeys, that they have been seen to approach the fann-houses, associate with the domestic fowls, and enter the stables and corn-cribs in quest of food. In this way, roaming about the forests, and feeding chiefly on mast, they pass the autumn and part of the winter." The season of courtship begins about the middle of February. The females now separate from the males, whom they endeavour to shun, but by whom they are perseveringly followed. At this time the males begin to gobble strenu- ously, and to strut about, making that peculiar whirring jar with their wings, striking the quill feathers smartly on the ground, which all must have observed in the domestic bird. They utter a succession of puffs from the lungs. They spread out and erect the tail, and draw back the head, while the loose skin of the neck swells and assumes the colour of scarlet. Thus they make advances to the females, who roost apart, uttering occasional call-notes, to which every male within hearing loudly responds, several hastening to the spot whence the call proceeded, eager to pay their homage. Thus it happens that the males fre- quently meet each other, in which case desperate conflicts ensue, ending often in bloodshed, and often in the loss of life, the weaker falling under the blows inflicted on his head by his stronger rival. In the combat they use beak and wings and spurs, striking and pulling each other, the feathers being ruffled, the tail partly raised, and the wings held drooping, ready for a blow. Old females, when addressed by the male, strut about almost as proudly as he does, and more than half way meet his ardent advances ; but females under a year old are not to be won so easily. The solicitations of the male, under these circumstances, ai'e more pressing and more ener- 558: getic, till at length he ingratiates himself in her favour. Thus they are mated for the season, though the male, being polygamous, does not con- fine himself to one female, but solicits the kind- ness of as many as he chances to meet. The seraglio follow their favourite sultan, roosting at night near him, if not on the same tree. This uniteduess lasts, however, only for a short time, for as soon as they begin to lay they gradually leave his company, and indeed sedulously avoid him, except for a few hours during the day, and make their nests in some concealed spot, among logs, brushwood, and intertangled foliage, in order that they may escape not only the eye of the crow, who is a great devourer of the eggs of the turkey, but that also of the male turkey, who, if he were to find them, would, from jealousy, in- fallibly break them all. At last the males find themselves altogether deserted. Their mutual rivalship ceases ; they meet each other in peace, and cease to utter threats of mutual defiance ; they seek retired situations in order to rest and recruit their energies, for at this juncture, like worn-out rakes, they are utterly exhausted, and have lost flesh and activity. When recovered and improved in condition, they draw together again, and commence their wanderings in united parties. It is generally about the middle of April that the female begins to select a site, and arrange her rude nest, which consists simply of withered leaves, in some depression on the ground amidst dense brushwood, or in such an obscure place as the locality affords. The eggs, like those of the domestic bird, are of large size, and of a dull or cream white, minutely freckled or dotted with reddish brown ; their average number varies from ten to fifteen. While the gradual addition of egg to egg is going on, the hen displays surprising instinctive caution. On leaving her charge she is careful to cover the whole with dry leaves, so artfully disposed as to render it difficult even for one who has watched her movements to find the nest, and on returning to it she varies her route, scarcely ever returning to it twice by the same course. Hence it is mostly by accident that the nest of the hen is discovered. It not unfrequently happens that several hens associate together and form a common nest, probably for mutual aid and assistance, and rear their broods together. Mr. Audubon says that he once found three hens sitting on forty-two eggs. In such cases one of the females at least is ever on guard, no raven or crow then daring to invade it. While in the act of incubation the hen is not readily driven from her nest by the appearance of danger. A person walking carelessly along, as if taking no particular notice, may pass a nest within five or six paces, the female crouching low to avoid observation; but, as Mr. Audubon has ascertained, if a person make his approach in a stealthily searching manner, she will quit it while he is yet thirty yards distant, and assuming a stately gait will move away, uttering every now and then a cluck- ing note, probably hoping by this means to draw off' the intruder and baffle his search. We learn from the same writer that the hen seldom or never abandons her nest if it has been discovered by man, but that if a snake or any other animal has sucked any of the eggs she leaves it altogether. Under such circumstances, or when the eggs have been removed, she seeks the male, and recommences the preparation of another nest ; but as a rule, she lays only a single batch of eggs during the season. When the eggs are on the eve of hatching, the female will not leave her nest under any circum- stances while life remains ; she will even allow an enclosure to be made around her, and thus be as it were imprisoned, rather than seek her own safety by flight. Mr. Audubon says, " 1 once witnessed the hatching of a brood of turkeys which I watched for the purpose of securing them together with the parent. I concealed myself on the ground within a very few feet, and saw her raise herself half the length of her legs, look anxiously upon the eggs, cluck with a sound peculiar to the mother on such occasions, carefully remove each half empty shell, and with her bill caress and dry the young birds that already stood tottering and attempting to make their way out of the nest. I have seen them all emerge from the shell, and in a few moments after, tumble, roll, and push each other forward with astonishing and inscrutable instinct." Before leaving the nest with her young brood, the female shakes herself, adjusts her plumage, and appears roused to the exigencies of the occasion ; she glances upwards and around her, in the apprehension of enemies, and as she moves cautiously along keeps her brood close about her ; her first excursion is generally to a little distance only from the nest, to which she returns with her brood to pass the first night. Subsequently they wander to a greater distance, the hen leading her charge over dry undulating grounds, as if aware of the danger of damp and humid spots. Wet indeed is fatal to young turkeys while covei'ed only with down ; hence in very rainy seasons the broods become greatly thinned, for the young, if once completely wetted, seldom recover; their vital energies sink under the abstraction of caloric during evaporation. At the age of a fortnight, the young birds begin to use their wings ; hitherto they have rested on the ground, but now they begin to roost on the low branch of some large tree, crowding close to each side of the mother, and sheltered beneath her broad wings. They now wander about more freely, visiting the glades and open lands border- 554 ing the -woods in search of wild stra-nherries and other fruits, grasshoppers, the larvae of ants and other insects, and roll themselves in the sand and dust in order to clear their growing feathers of loose scales and parasitic vermin; deserted ants' nests are favourite dusting places. By the month of August the young hirds have acquired considerable growth, and use their wings and legs with great vigour and readiness, so that they are able to escape the sudden attack of foxes, lynxes, and other beasts of prey, by rising quickly from the ground, and mounting the tallest branches of trees. The young cocks now begin to show their distinctive characteristics, and even to utter an imperfect gobble, while the young hens pur and leap. Several broods now flock together, and so continue united, till after the October migration, and through the winter, when they leave the females, the middle of February bringing a recurrence of the same scenes already described. The young hens in their turn are to become parents, and the young cocks will fight for the mastery. when, during the winter, a sharp frost succeeds a heavy fall of snow, so as to form a hard crust on its surface, turkeys will sometimes remain on their roosts for three or four days or longer, declining to search for food, unless indeed when farms and barns are within a short distance ; they then direct their course to the stacks of com, and enter the bams and stables in quest of grain. During melting snow-falls, turkeys will travel very great distances, and at such extraordinary speed that no hunter can keep up with them. They have then a dangling, straggling way of running, which, awkward as it may seem, enables them to outstrip any other animal. " I have often," says Audubon, "when on a good horse been obliged to abandon the attempt to put them up, after following them for several hours. This habit of continued running in rainy or very damp weather of any kind is not peculiar to the wild turkey, but is common to all gallinaceous birds. In America the different species of grouse exhibit the same tendency." The wild turkey in its native woods has numerous enemies. Setting aside man, the lynx, the snowy owl, and the Virginian owl are amongst the most dreaded; to the eggs and young, the raven, the crow, and the polecat are fatal, but from these the old birds have little to fear personally. The lynx follows the wandering flocks, and lies in ambush for them, springing upon the first within his range of bound, and seizing it before it has time to use its wings and mount into a tree. Turkeys, while pluming, dusting, and enjoying themselves in the sun, are often suddenly pounced upon by this animal and fall a sacrifice. It is at night, and while sleeping perched on the branches of the trees, that turkeys are most obnoxious to the attacks of the large owls, birds nearly equalling an eagle in size and quite as ferocious. It is well for the turkeys that they roost in flocks, are easily roused, and have ears always on the qiii vire against danger. On silent wings, and with eyes intent upon the branches of the forest below him, while the moon is half hidden by clouds, sails the Virginian owl, greedy for prey. He is hovering over the slumbering party, reconnoitering their position, in order to make an attack with the greatest certainty of success. Yet hovers he not so silently as not to awaken with the slight whirr of his wings one of the sleeping turkeys ; the slumberer is at once aroused to a sense of his danger, and with a single cluck gives the horrid alarm, and every sleeper starts upon his legs. Anxiety and fear are in every breast, each bird keeps its eye upon the dreaded foe as it wheels around ; it has selected its victim — down it swoops with inconceivable velocity, but the turkey is prepared ; as the foe descends it depresses its head and, crouching low, spreads its broad tail invertedly over its back as a shield of defence. Down swoops the owl, but its assault is useless ; it has slided along the smooth inclined plane of the caudal shield, and before it has time to recover itself and renew the assault the turkey has dropped to the ground, and, ot^ms a few feathers, has shrouded itself unhurt amidst the densest brushwood. It must not, however, be supposed that the turkey always thus parries the assault of its enemy; on the contrary, numbers annually fall a prey to this rapacious bird. Nor are wild turkeys alone subject to the attacks of this daring marauder ; domestic turkeys belonging to lone farm houses often become his prey. Audu- bon, in his description of the Virginian or Great Homed Owl (Strix Virginia, Gmelin), indulges in a passage, relative to its annoyance to the farmer, of such eloquence that we may be readily pardoned for quoting it, the rather as it will show against what enemies, as far as turkeys are concerned, the agricultural settler in America has to be upon his guard. We omit the history of the owl as foreign to our subject. " It is during the placid serenity of a beautiful night, when the current of the waters moves silently along, reflecting from its smooth surface the silver radiance of the moon, and when all else of animated nature seems sunk in repose, that the Great Homed Owl, one of the Nimrods of the feathered tribes of our forests, may be seen sailing silently and yet rapidly on, intent on the destruction of the objects destined to form his food. The lone steersman of the descending boat observes the nocturnal hunter, gliding on extended pinions across the river, sail- ing over one hill and then -another, or suddenly 555 sweeping downwards, and again rising in the air like a moving shadow, now distinctly seen, and again mingling with the sombre shades of the surrounding woods fading into obscurity. The bark has now floated to some distance and is opposite the newly cleared patch of ground, the result of a squatter's first attempt at cultivation in a place lately shaded by the trees of the forest. The moon shines brightly on his hut, his light fence, the newly planted orchard, and a tree which, spared by the axe, serves as a roosting place for the scanty stock of poultry which the new-comer has procured from some liberal neighbour. Amongst them rest a turkey hen, covering her offspring with extended wings. The great owl, with eyes keen as those of any falcon, is now seen hovering above the place. He has already espied the quarry, and is sailing in wide circles meditating his plan of attack. The turkey hen, wliich at another time might be sound asleep, is now, how- ever, so intent on the care of her young brood that she rises on her legs and purs so loudly, as she opens her wings and spreads her tail, that she rouses her neighbours, the hens, together with their protector. The cacklings which they at first emit soon become a general clamour. The squatter hears the uproar, and is on his feet in an instant, rifle in hand ; the priming examined, he gently pushes open his half-closed door, and peeps out cautiously to ascertain the cause by which his repose has been disturbed. He observes the mur- derous owl just alighting on tlie dead branch of a tall tree, when raising his never failing rifle, he takes aim, touches the trigger, and the next instant sees the foe falling dead to the ground. The bird is unworthy of his further attention, and is left a prey to some prowling opossum or other carnivorous quadruped. In this manner falls many a horned owl on our frontiers, where the species abounds." With respect to the attacks of man on the flocks of the wild turkey, little need be said ; man is ingenious in the arts of destruction. Baited traps or ^j(!«s, of various kinds according to locality, are much used, in which numbers of birds are taken ; during spring a lure or call made from one of the bones of a turkey's wing is in requisition, this skilfully managed produces a sound similar to that of the call-note of the female, and will bring the males around within reach of gun shot ; after- wards, when the males are weak, many are hunted down by dogs, and at all times the gun is in requisition. In fact it is almost a matter of surprise that the wild turkey, thinned as its num- bers annually are by sportsmen of all kinds and descriptions, should yet maintain its ground ; certain it is that, unless specially pi'otected, it will at no very distant date become either extremely rare, or utterly extinct, as the capercailzie is in the highlands of Scotland. Thus far have we given a sketch of the general history of the wild turkey, and we shall find that the tame variety resembles its unreclaimed pro- genitor in most of its marked peculiarities, viz., in its rambling habits, its manner of roosting, the antipathy of the males to the eggs, often to the young, in the secrecy in which the female prefers to incubate, and in the tenderness of the young. The Domestic Turkey can scarcely be said to be divided like the common fowl into distinct breeds ; there is, indeed, cousidei-able variation in colour, and some little in size, but no Bantam or dwarf race, as far as we have seen, exists. The finest and strongest turkeys are those of a bronzed black, resembling as closely as possible the original stock ; they are not only reared the most easily, but are the largest, and fatten the most rapidly. We have seen turkeys of a coppery tint, others of a delicate fawn colour, others parti-coloured, gray and white, and some few of a pure snowy white. We regard all these as inferior to the black, their colour indicates something like degeneracy of constitution, and we should say that they are seldom very large sized. A very curious variety, unknown in England, is described by M. Temminck; it was kept in Madame Backer's aviary at the Hague. The bird had a top-knot springing from the crown of the head ; in the same aviary was a flock of turkeys of a pale reddish tint, with an ample crest of pure white, which were reared also by Madame Backer. We have here an analogy between this lady's breed of turkeys and the plumed Poland fowls. To describe the domestic turkey is superfluous; the voice of the male, the changing colours of the skin of the head and neck, his proud strut with expanded tail and lowered wings jarring on the ground, his irascibility, which is readily excited by red or scarlet colours, are points with which all are conversant. Turkey cocks are pugnacious and vindictive, and often ill-treat the hens ; we have known them to attack children, and have witnessed combats between them and the game cock, in which the latter was more oppressed by the weight of his antagonist than by gladiatorial skill — we have, in fact, seen the bulky hero worsted ; he can- not use liis spurs with the address exhibited by the game cock, which moreover fights with method. The adult turkey is extremely hardy, and bears the cold of our winter with impunity ; during the severest weather flocks, as we have seen, will roost at night upon the branches of tall trees, preferring such an accommodation to an indoor dormitory. We have witnessed a tall tree crowded on its higher branches with turkeys, while on the lower branches roosted a flock of Guinea-fowls. The impatience of restraint and restlessness of the turkey render it unfit company for fowls in their 556 dormitory ; in fact, the fowl-house is altogether an improper place for these large birds, which require ojien sheds and high perches, and altogether as much freedom as is consistent with their safety. Although, as we have said, turkeys will roost even during the winter months on trees, we by no means recommend that this should be allowed, the feet of these birds are apt to become frost- bitten from such exposure to the air on the sudden decline of the temperature to the freezing point, while a keen north or east wind is blowing ; it must be remembered that the domestic turkey, hardy as it is when adult, is not equal in point of endurance to its wild relative bred in the woods and inured to the elements. Turkeys are fond of wandering about hedge- rows and the borders of fields, they love to visit turnip fields, where, besides the leaves of the turnips, which they relish, they find insects, snails, slugs, &c., which they greedily devour. In the morning they should have a good supply of grain, and after their return from their peregri- nation another feed ; by this plan not only will the due return home of the flock be insured, but the birds will be kept in good store-condition, and ready at any time to be put upon fattening diet. Kever let them be in poor condition — this is an a.\iom in the treatment of all poultry — it is diffi- cult, and takes a long time, to bring a bird into proper condition which has been previously poorly fed or half starved. In the choice of store-birds some care is requisite ; the stock should be of a good sort, if possible of the black Norfolk race, produced originally, we believe, by a cross with the wild breed of America. And we may here observe that could this cross be often repeated (and our wealthy agriculturalists should be urged upon this point), not only would our breeds of turkeys become in all respects improved, but the chances of ultimate degeneracy would be obviated. The Irish turkeys are generally very fine, but the French, as far as we have seen (but we may be wrong), are alto- gether inferior to our best soi-ts, and are seldom or never to be seen of great weight, that is averaging from twenty to thirty pounds. The cock should be vigorous, broad in the breast, clean in the legs, witla ample wings, and a well developed tail-plumage, his eyes should be bright, and the carunculated skin of the neck full, and rapid in its changes of colour. Though capable of assuming his legitimate rank among the hens when a year old, he is not in perfection (notwithstanding the contrary opinion of some) until he has attained his third year and is enter- ing upon his fourth, and he continues in his prime for three or four succeeding years. Thus, for two or three or four years, or longer, may all the young cocks be devoted to the poulterer, one per- haps of particular beauty being preserved within that space of time for the ornament of the farm- yard. The hen should be dark coloured, like the cock-^those with white feathers appearing amidst the black plumage should be rejected ; her figure should be plump, and her actions lively and animated. The hen breeds when a year old, or rather in the spring succeeding that in which she herself left the egg, but she is not in her prime until the age of two or three years, and will con- tinue for two or three years more in full constitu- tional vigour. But whether the breeder prefers to keep a store-stock for several years, or prefers a yearly or biennial change, will depend on his views and the general practice of the neighbour- hood around him ; for ourselve?, we should keep a first-rate cock for three or four years, or even longer, however we might change our store-flock of hens, and, indeed, if these produced first-rate chickens we should be in no hurry to substitute younger birds in their place. Of course the stock, what- ever its prescribed number may be, should be kept up, deficiencies by death and accidents being duly supplied. It would appear that an almost unlimited number of hens may be allowed to a single male — in fact the caresses of the male only once or twice are required for the fecundation of all the eggs which she will lay during the current season ; but, in order to make assurance doubly sure, the number of hens under one lord may be limited to fifteen or twenty — that is, if it is desirable that as many should be kept. About the middle of March, generally speak- ing, the female commences laying; she indicates this coming event by a peculiar cry, by strutting about with an air of self-satisfaction, and often by prying into out-of-the-way places, evidently in quest of a secret spot of incubation — for her instinctive dread of the male is not removed by domestication, nor has the male lost his antipathy TO the eggs. She should now he closely watched, and some, management is required to induce her to lay in the nest assigned to her. The nest should be prepared of straw and dried leaves, it should be secluded, and to excite her to adopt it, an egg, or a piece of chalk cut into the form of an egg should be placed in it. When her uneasi- ness to lay is evident, and symptoms prove that she is ready, she should be confined in the shed, barn, or place in which her nest (in a large wicker basket) is prepared, and let out as soon as it is deposited. It is generally in the morning that the turkey hen lays, and mostly every other day, though some lay daily, until the number amounts to from fifteen to twenty. As the eggs are laid it is as well to remove them (leaving the decoy egg or piece of chalk) until the number is complete, as 557 they are liable to be broken, and to be sucked by rats or weasles. They may then be restored to her for incubation. The turkey hen is a steady sitter, and in this respect resembles the wild bird — nothing will induce her to leave the nest; indeed, she often requires to be removed to her food, so over- powering is her instinctive aiTection ; she must be freely supplied with water within her reach; should she lay any eggs after she has commenced incuba- tion, these should be removed — it is proper there- fore to mark those which were given to her to sit upon. The hen should now on no account be rashly disturbed, no one except the person to whom she is accustomed, and from whom she receives her food, should be allowed to go near her, and the eggs, unless circumstances imperatively require it, should not be meddled with. On the thirty-first day the chicks leave the eggs. Now, in a state of nature the wild hen always manages at this juncture far better than she would do if interfered with by man, were his interference possible, and so we believe will the domestic turkey hen, if her nest be placed (and it might be in a certain degree) as it is in nature ; this we know, that turkeys which have laid their eggs in out-of-the-way places, and have been allowed to incubate there, have brought their troop of downy younglings into the farm-yard with evident pleasure and satisfaction — no extra attention having been paid to them. It is, however, usual to remove the young chicks one by one as they make their exit, and place them in a basket of ■warm flannel, tow, or feathers, until all are out, and then to restore them to the hen ; this is done as a precautionary measure, lest any accident should happen to them. In a state of nature the turkey only rears one brood during the season, unless her eggs have been destroyed or removed, nor will the domestic hen incubate twice, if allowed to rear her own brood ; some, however, who like, as the common phrase is, "to work a willing horse to death," recommend that the turkey be induced to hatch a second time in the season. This is effected by taking her young brood from her as soon as possible, and mixing it with another brood of the same age, as nearly as possible ; her cares being no longer required for her young, and her instincts unsatisfied, she seeks the company of the male, and in about three weeks again commences laying, until the number of eggs is complete, when she re-engages in the task of incubation. But we utterly object to this practice — it is cruel, and it taxes the system ; she has already sat patiently for thirty days, that is four weeks and two days, and surely that is quite enough. Besides, the brood thus hatched will be late in the season, and late broods of turkeys ai'e not to be reared without very great care ; they cannot stand the chilly mornings of autumn nor the frosty nights, their limbs become swollen and rheumatic, and they die one after another, few surviving, and those few never becoming fine healthy birds from which the breeder would select his stock. Let nature alone. Should a hen lay after hatching her clutch of eggs, and should she (which is very unlikely) indicate a desire for incubation, it is better to pre- vent her, and use the eggs for household purposes. The treatment of the chick next demands consideration. We have seen that even the wild chicks are delicate, and unable to endure wet. We may say the same with regard to young grouse and partridges, the flocks of which are much thinned by a wet season. But if the wild chicks are tender, much more so are those of the domestic strain. As in the case of young fowls, the turkey chicks do not require food for several hours. It is useless to cram them, as some do, fearing lest they should starve ; and, besides, the beak is as yet so tender that it runs a chance of being injured by the process. When the chicks feel an inclination for food, nature directs them how to pick it up. There is no occasion for alarm if for thirty hours they content themselves with the warmth of their parent, and enjoy her care. Yet some food must be provided for them, and this should be, of course, suited to their nature and appetite. Here, too, let the simplicity of nature be a guide. We say this because some have recommended spices, wine, and even bathing in cold water. Mr. Richardson states, on autho- rity which he has received, that in Sweden some persons practise the plan of immersing the chickens in cold uater. His words are — " Miss N. thus writes : The following curi- ous mode of rearing turkeys is translated from a Swedish book, entitled Rural Economy : — ' Many of our housewives have long despaired of success in rearing turkeys, and complained that the profit rarely indemnified them for their trouble and loss of time ; whereas little more has to be done than to plunye the chick into cold water the veiy hour, if possible, but at least the very day, it is hatched, forcing it to su-allotv one whole peppercorn, after which let it be returned to its mother. From that time it will become hardy, and fear the cold no more than the hen's chick ; but it must be re- membered that this useful species of fowl is subject to one particular disorder while they are young, which often carries them off in a few days. When they begin to droop, examine carefully the feathers on their posterior extremity, and you will find two or three whose quill part is filled wdth blood. Upon drawing these the chick recovers, and after that requires no other care than what is commonly bestowed upon other poultry that range the court-yard. The truth of these assertions is too well kno\vn to be denied ; and, as a convincijig proof of the success (of this mode of treatment), it 558 will be sufficient to mention that three parishes in Sweden [why not name ?] have for many years used tliis method, and gained several hundred pounds by rearing and selling turkeys brought up in this manner.'" Some other observations are added unworthy notice ; and indeed, from the recommendation of a two years' feed on sunjiower seeds (in Sweden), we consider the whole as a piece of English quackery. We dare stake our reputation that no such book has been written in Swedish and published in Sweden. The lady (Miss N.) has been made, we suspect, the dupe of some wag ; but if indeed and truly such directions have been given (we have inquired in vain for the work Rural Economy, trans, from Swedish), then all that we can say is, that the science which the Swedes have ever exhibited in rural affairs has degenerated. We will not even comment on the directions. Their absurdity is palpable. Mr. Richardson discusses the passage seriously. We should have deemed it below notice, only that so able a writer has condescended to comment upon it. The first diet offered to turkey chicks should consist of eggs boiled hard and finely minced, or curd with bread crumbs, boiled nettles, and the gi-een part of onions, parsley, &c., chopped veiy small, and mixed together so as to form a loose crumbly paste. Barley or oatmeal, kneaded with a little water, and mixed with the pulp of potatoes and Swedish turnips, to which chopped beet leaves are added, may be also given. They will require water, but this should be put into very shallow vessels, so as to insure against the danger of the chicks becoming thoroughly wetted. Fresh milk is apt to disagree with the young birds, and is not needful. Both the turkey hen and her chickens should be housed for a few days. They may then, if the weather be fine, be allowed a few hours' liberty during the day ; but, should a shower threaten, they must be put immediately under shelter. This system must be persevered in for three or four weeks. By this time they will have acquired considerable strength, and will know how- to take care of themselves. On the first drops of a shower they will run for shelter into their accus- tomed place of refuge, which should be warm and waterjjroof. As they become older, meal and grain may be given more freely. They now begin to search for insects, and to dust their growing plumage in the sand. At the age of about two months, or perhaps a little more, the males and females begin to develop their distinctive charac- teristics. In the young males the carunculated skin of the neck and throat, and the honi-like contractile comb on the forehead, assume a marked character. This is a critical period. The system requires a full supply of nutriment, and good housing at night is essential. Some recommend that a few grains of cayenne pepper, or a little bruised hempseed, be mixed with their food. The distinctive sexual marks once fairly established, the young birds lose their name of chicks, or chickem, and are termed turhey jioults. The time of danger is over, and they become independent, and every day stronger and more hardy. They now fare as the rest of the flock, on good and sufficient food, if their keeper is alive to his own interest. Let us again repeat it, that a man who keeps poultry on meagre, spare, innutritious diet, will never rear fine poultry, and never repay him- self even for his niggardly outlay. Poultry should never be in bad condition. Let them not be kept at all unless they are kept properly. Now, as turkeys are reared expressly to grace the board (though not often the farmer's, even at Christmas-tide, as Tusser indicates), their mode of treatment for this Jinale requires some notice. Let us take a young poult of three months old, hatched in April, destined to be the head dish of some goodman's table in December. The first part of its education is passed through — what remains ? First, then, it will require a mixture of boiled vegetables, as nettles, turnip-tops, cab- bage sprouts, and the like, boiled down, and given with meal of various kinds — barley-meal, oat-meal, or wheaten flour, the whole being well blended (with curds, if they can be obtained or spared) ; but with this diet will be mixed pure grain of various kinds— buck- wheat, barley, oats, beans, and (if the plant were largely grown in England) sunflower seeds, not excluding potatoes steamed, boiled carrots, turnips, and the like. The run of a substantial farm-house is the main thing at this epoch. But secondly comes the question, how to prepare for the Christmas market ? Some cram their turkeys. The birds should never need this operation. Cobbett says that, as to fattening turkeys, the best way is never to let them be poor. " Cramming is a nasty thing, and quite unnecessary. Barley-meal, mixed with skim-milk, given to them fresh and fresh, will make them fat in a short time, either in a coop, in a house, or running about. Boiled carrots and Swedish tur- nips will help, and it is a change of sweet food. In France they sometimes pick turkeys alive, to make them tender ; of which I shall only say, that the man that can do this, or order it to be done, ought to be skinned alive himself." We have never in France seen turkeys so treated, but often pigeons ; and on one occasion we remonstrated against this horrible barbarity, but without effect. The poulterer seemed to think that pigeons had no feeling ; and so do those who skin living eels at our door. Cobbett objects to cramming, and not without reason ; but then, after all good feeding, cramming is still practised • — cramming to finish off good feeding. This is 559 unnecessary ; but as weight, irrespective of deli- cacy of flavour, pays the London poulterer, the heaviest birds are to him the most acceptable. We opine that a medium is to be observed in the preparation of all animals for the market, and therefore think that the cramming of well-fed turkeys is useless. Nevertheless it is extensively practised. The unfortunate birds are condemned to darkness or twilight. They are forced with balls of barley meal — sometimes even deprived of sight (horrible barbarity). There is no necessity that either fowls or turkeys should be blinded and crammed. The whole affiiir is truly disgusting to any feeling and well-regulated mind. All animals will fatten, with proper food, quite sufficiently for all really useful purposes. According to Mr. Dickson, " no food makes their flesh whiter and more delicate than kitchen-stuff or the dregs of melted tallow, more or less of which must be boiled according to the number that is to be fed ; and being diluted in a boiling state, plants (espe- cially nettles chopped up) and pot-herl)s are to be mixed with it. The whole being well boiled, barley-meal or maize is added, to form a kind of paste, which may be given twice a-day at least — in the moraing and at one o'clock — when it is wished to render them fat. But as the dregs of melted tallow are not everywhere to be procured, the dregs or refuse of the oil of nuts, linseed, or sweet almonds may be substituted, the greatest care being taken not to fatten them wholly with such oily substances, for their flesh would partake of the flavour, and be injured." There is no doubt that greaves, oil-cake, and the like, will render turkeys fat with considerable rapidity ; but they should be given sparingly, otherwise the flesh will be rank and disagreeable. Though the turkey feeds on a vast variety of diet, as mast, com, sunflower seeds, barley, and oatmeal, green vegetables, snails, insects, &c., still there are some things which, if not positively poisonous, are at least injurious to this bird, and should therefore never be given. We allude to peas, vetches, and tares, and indeed most sorts of pulse. These, says Mr. Richardson, are little less deleterious than such well-known poisons as hemlock, fcxglove, or henbane. Yet these form the favourite food of the pigeon. With respect to the diseases of the turkey, we must refer to our general observations on the maladies of poultry, having, as far as these birds are concerned, nothing in particular to notice. We have laid sufficient stress upon the care which the young require, and their tenderness until they become poults. We may conclude our history of the turkey by observing, that extraordinary accounts of the weight of fattened birds sometimes appear either in tlie public papers or in the works of writers who know nothing personally of the subject. We have been told of turkeys weighing fifty or sixty pounds; and indeed, in the Christmas of 1840-7, we were presented by a relative with a noble turkey, one of his own breeding in Derbyshire. He estimated its weight at twenty-five pounds. On trial it was little more than seventeen — so easily are persons deceived. Rarely have we seen a turkey of twenty-live pounds, and still more rarely one of thirty. Yet instances have been known in which a prize bird has weighed nearly thirty-five. The large turkeys which are sent from Norfolk, the great county for these birds, at Christmas, are cocks of the preceding year, and are about twenty months old. We received last Christmas a male bird of the year from the Isle of Wight, which exceeded fifteen pounds. We are not, however, aware that the beautiful Isle of Wight is famous for turkeys. As for that, any place in which turkeys are properly reared and fed may compete with Norfolk. We have seen very fine birds in Surrey, and no farther distant from Loudon than in a farm-yard at Barnes. Even in the Peak of Derbyshire, cold and changeable as the climate is, a relative of the writer possessed, when we visited him, as fine a flock of turkeys and Guinea-fowls as any one could have desired ; but he took a pride in them, and therein lies the great secret of success in the rearing, not only of domestic poultry, but of our domestic quadrupeds also. What is worth doing is worth doing weU. THE PEAFOWL. The Peafowl (Pava cristatus); Saxon, pawa; Belgic, pauiv ; Teutonic, 2)fa-u ; French, j^^'Oii ; Italian, pavon and pavone ; Latin, pavo ; Greek, Toiiy (taon) : mohr of the Mahrattas. It is from India undoubtedly that Europe has received the peacock, and that at a very early period. It was well known to the Greeks and Romans. It was the bird of Juno, who adorned its tail with the hundred eyes of Argus — eyes which the poet calls star-like gems. " Excipit hos, volucrisque suffi Satumia pennis Collocat ; et gcmmis caudam stellantibus implet." That the peacock should, in all times, have been admired for its singular beauty is not sur- prising. When it moves along in state with its wings lowered to the ground and its tail spread, the rays of the sun glancing upon its gorgeous plumes, iridescent with metallic effulgence, the eye of every beholder is arrested, and all gaze with admiration on the glorious spectacle. When we talk of the peacock spreading its tail, we use popular language. The gem-adorned plumes, with their loose silken barbs, are not the tail, but the tail coverts. The tail is beneath these, and hid- 560 den by them, and consists of rather short stiff rust-coloured feathers, which serve as a support to the train. Gilbert White, in his Natural History of Selborne {heitar XLIV.), thus expresses himself : — " Happening to make a visit to my neigh- bour's peacocks, I could not help observing that the trains of those magnificent birds appear by no means to be their tails, those long feathers grow- ing not from their uropygium, but all up their backs. A range of short, brown, stiff feathers, about six inches long, fixed on the uropygium, is the real tail, and serves as ihn fulcrum to prop the train, which is long and top-heavy when set on end. When the train is up, nothing appears of the bird but its head and neck ; but this would not be the case were these long feathers fixed only in the rump, as may be seen by the turkey- cock when in a strutting attitude. By a strong muscular vibration, these birds can make the shafts of their long feathers clatter like the swords of a sword-dancer. They then trample very quick with their feet, and run backwards towards the females." The true tail feathers are eighteen in number, and the head is surmounted by an aigrette of twenty-four upright feathers. The female has the aigrette, but not the splendid colour and orna- mental plumes with which the male is gifted. Her colours generally are sombre. THE PEACOCK. The peacock is too well known to require a detailed description. Pied varieties are not un- frequent in domestication, and we have seen some of a snow white ; but, in our eyes, the most beautiful are those which display their natural colours, unbroken by any intermixture. The peacock is extensively spread, in a wild state, in India and the Indian Islands. It is abundant in the dense woods of the Ghauts, and is readily domesticated, many of the Hindoo temples in the D ukhun, as Colonel Sj-kes informs us, having considerable flocks of them. On com- paring specimens of the wild bird with the ordi- nary domesticated peafowl of our country, he found no difference in any respect. " Irides intense red brown," or rather, we should say, blood red. The wild peafowl associates in numbers, and where a favourite feeding ground invites them, hundreds sometimes collect together, but they are very wary, and run with extreme velocity. Colonel Williamson, in his account of peacock shooting, states that he has seen them in astonish- ing numbers about the passes in the Jungletery district. Whole woods were covered with their beautiful plumage, to which the rising sun imparted additional brilliancy ; he states that small patches scattered about, cultivated with mustard which was then in bloom, induced the birds to collect there for the sake of feeding on the plant, and he speaks of the beauty of the scene as enchanting, and so indeed it must have been, for he adds, " I speak within bounds when I assert that there could not be less than twelve or fifteen hundred peafowls of various sizes within sight of the spot where I stood for near an hour." Some observations which Colonel Williamson makes we do not quite understand. He says that it is easy to get a shot in a jungle, but that where the birds flock together to the amount of forty or fifty there is greater difficulty. They are not then so easily raised, and they run so fast that the colonel doubts whether a spaniel could make them take wing. We suppose he means that single birds started in a jungle and forced to flight afford a fair mark, but that it is not easy to start birds when collected together in open grounds. He also observes that they fly heavy and strong, gene- rally within an easy shot; if winged only, they mostly escape from their swiftness of foot. Now the peacock flies, indeed, strongly, but not heavily, indeed its flight is rather buoyant considering its size ; of course we are only judging of domestic birds, never having seen wild birds in the jungles of India; but undoubtedly the wild bird is far superior in powers of flight to its domestic relative. The following picture of one of the jungles in India, by an anonymous writer, may not here be out of place : — " The jungle-fowl was heard on every side, while occasionally the shrill scream of a peafowl broke from the more retired heights, and seemed attuned by nature to the wild and beauteous world about me. Sounds depend too much on locality and association for me to ask for sympathy witJi fiCl my fondness for the pea-fowl's note, but I love to hear it, and as it broke upon me yesterday I really felt something like pain as I smiled and muttered Burns's complaint, — 'Ye '11 break my heart, ye liltle birds!" There is a spot near Mulkapoor that I always see ■when I hear or thhik of them. Every cleft of a wall of rocks that rose four hundred feet seemed crushed full of the noblest trees, and from every crevice long pliant grass hung waving lazily in the air. We stood silently gazing on the calm yet savage sublimity of this scene, till some one said, 'How beautiful!' and at once the words were thrown back by a startling harshness from the masses before us, as if they mocked at the applauses of such atoms of humanity. At this moment a peafowl screamed, and launching itself into the air, floated forth in majestic buoyancy, hopelessly high above our heads, while a dozen echoes returned its cry from side to side, filling the space through which it passed with their wild commingled peals. If my reader remembers why I quitted India, I can forgive him muttering ' Voila un homelie qui sent furieusement la fievre,' and therefore to business. Touching peafowl shooting, though I have seen seven on a table at once, I am convinced that a man who does not find a repaying pleasure in merely following these birds as they strut in all their splendour of plumage up their wildly pic- turesque haunts, ought to fix on some other sport ; he will find this too tantalizing. Results may be much more surely calculated on amongst the jungle-fowl, by ascertaining by successive cries the way they walk, and hurrying through the cover by a circuitous route, so as to intercept them. But this requires a certain tact. The slightest stir, and often the keenness of the bird's sight, for they come slowly and look well round as they strut and flap their wings and challenge, are enough to dis- cover the sportsman, when the crowing ceases, and they are off at a hopeless rate. These birils are the original cock and hen, butneither their cry nor their plumage is exactly that of a domestic fowl. Whoever looks for them will see black partridges and spur-fowl running about the base of the rocks. The latter has double spurs and is of a dusty brown plumage brightening on the breast to amber, and prettily picked out with white and black spots. A sportsman in thick jungle should have one beater behind him to strike a bush if necessary, but his plan is to walk on as quietly as possible, and keep ready to fire at the moment a turn or opening shows an object. This, and the poaching system of lying hid, are the only ways to secure game in thick jungle, and even with these he will often return empty-handed and learn to consider a pea- fowl or a brace of jungle-fowl as a very satisfactory day's work." — Kew Monthly Magazine. The wild peacock has its native foes irrespec- tive of man — the great destroyer; the leopard often surprises it in the dense jungle, even the tiger darts upon it from ambush ; but in Ceylon, as the natives assert, it often falls a prey to a lemurine animal termed the loris (loris gracilis), a small nocturnal and arboreal animal of insidious habits, which to look upon (for we have seen living specimens in the Zoological Gardens) would seem incompetent to the work of destruction with so large a bird as its antagonist. While the pea- fowl sleeps unsuspectingly on its perch, this slow- paced creeping animal makes its advances by stealth, gradually and noiselessly it attains its mark, the bird awakes grasped tightly round the throat and in the agonies of strangulation ; it at once drops to the ground, but, clinging to it with strenuous gripe, and supported by its victim, down drops the loris ; they do not here part ; the bird soon expires, and the loris devours its brain, leaving the rest of the carcase untouched, an acceptable meal to some prowling marauder of the forest. We would here willingly give an account of the habits and manners of the wild peafowl in the jungles of India, parallel to that of the wild turkey of the American forests, but no Wilson, Audubon, or Bonaparte, has written their history, and, for ourselves, we have never seen the peafowl in its native woods. We might, indeed, transcribe much respecting peafowl shooting from the works of various writers, sportsmen in India ; but from all this we gain no positive information. Our readers must therefore pardon us for our meagre history of the wild bii'd. However, what it is in captivity in our country, that it is in the forests of India; domestication has little influenced its nature. There can be little doubt that the splendour of this bird first attracted the notice of the ancients, yet, in luxurious Rome, its beauty was not its safeguard ; on the contrary, it was slaughtered in very wantonness, for the sake of a few parts only deemed worthy of being introduced as small items in the dishes of royal lunatics or noble madmen, for such only can we deem them. The sneer of Martial must in his day have been biting; he saw the peacock in its glory, and then beheld it murdered for the sake of its brains. Well might he say — " Miraris quoties gemmantes eiplicat alas, Et poles hunc sa;vo traders, dure, coquo." Lines which we may thus paraphrase — " Oft as the bird his gem-starred phimes displays In admiration dost thou stop to gaze, And canst thou then, hard hearted, take its life. And coolly give it to your hireling's knife." One of the favourite dishes of the Emperor Vitel- lius, called the buckler of Minerva, was prepared 5G3 ■with the livers of a choice fish, the scarus (scarus CreticKs, Cuvier), the tongues of flamingoes, and the brains of peacocks. The bird figured also in the feasts of Hortensius and other sensuaHsts. We seldom hear of peafowl being served up at table, yet young birds are juicy and of high flavour; no one, however, in the present day thinks of breeding these gorgeous birds for the sake of their flesh, and an accident only has enabled us to say that we have tasted a young peafowl. Now, Lesson says, " Leur chair est seche et coriace, leur cri est rauque et desagreable," and no doubt the flesh of an old bird, like that of an old fowl, is very indifferent ; but that of a young bird is sapid and tender, with a gaiiie flavour. As for the cry of the peacock, though it is horrid to most ears, we do not altogether object to it ; we like the cawing of multitudinous voices in a rookery, and •we like the mingled noises of a farm-yard, which mellow even the dissonant scream of the peacock. Heard amidst the wild and savage scenery of the native woods and jungles of this gorgeous bird, well must it harmonize with the scene ; there is much in association, and we would ask, would the finest air of any of our greatest composers, played on what instrument you please, produce in the passes of the Ghauts so consonant an effect as the wild yell of the peacock ? In ancient times no great feast in the baron's hall was ever served up without this bird to grace it — it was presented by the sewer, well cooked, on a large dish, but rearrayed in its gorgeous plumage ; and before the peacock and the ladies did the adventurous knight make his vow. The habits and manners of the peafowl in domestication are well known ; it is a rambling bird unsuited for confined premises, it requires lawns, and shrubberies, and wide pleasure grounds, to which it adds an appropriate charm, whether it moves about with its train e.x^panded or walks trailing it along, down avenues of smooth turf, or amongst the woodland glades. Semi-wild, however, as the peacock is, it is nevertheless disposed to become familiar, and if encouraged will visit the windows of the house in order to receive an accustomed dole of bread, and when displaying its plumage seems to be aware of the admiration it inspires. Grain of various kinds, mast, fruits, insects and their larvae, together with small reptiles, con- stitute its food. It is not until the third year that the male acquires his glorious plumage, the aigrette on the head in this species (but not in another from Japan) is composed of miniature plumes, similar to those of the train. The tarsi are spurred, and when iritated the peacock can use them with full effect. We have stated that the turkey likes to roost in the high branches of trees, the peacock affects still higher branches, and failing these, the gable end of a house or barn, or some elevated situation, and here through summer and winter will it take its station, defying the rain and the cold. Strange that a bird originally from India should be so hardy; it would seem as if Providence had expressly given to the gallinaceous birds that quality of constitution which fits them for accompanying man into regions far remote from their natural habitat; such is the case indeed with all ani- mals essentially subsei-vient to his welfare, and we cannot but see in this fact a proof of the wisdom and goodness of that God who commanded man "to replenish the earth and subdue it." Though the peafowl roosts iu trees, the female incubates on the ground, making in her natural state a rude inartificial nest, in some secluded spot under cover of the dense jungle. The eggs vary in number from five to ten. This con- cealment, as in the instance of the turkey, is necessary, for actuated by a strange jealousy the male will break all the eggs if he discover them, and this feeling actuates our domestic birds, insomuch that the female during incubation must be placed in such security as to prevent the access of the male to the nest. Eggs, grayish white ; period of incubation, thirty days. In the Proceedings of the Zoological Society for 1835 (p. 54) occurs the following passage from the journal of Sir Robert Heron, Bart. : — "For a good many years I have attended to the habits of peafowl, and for the last eleven have written down my observations. I find the individuals to differ as much in temper as human beings ; some are willing to take care of the young ones of others, whilst some have pursued and killed them, and this whether they had a brood of their own or not. Some cocks have assisted in the care of young ones, w'hilst others have attacked them. An early hen frequently has a brood herself the next year. Age makes no difference in the number of the brood ; I have had six from a hen a year old, and one from an old hen. The hens have frequently a great preference for a particular peacock. They were all so fond of an old pied cock that one year when he was confined in view, they were constantly assembled close to the trellice walls of his prison, and would not suffer a japanned peacock to touch them. On his being let out in the autumn, the oldest of the hens instantly courted him, and obtained proofs of his love in my presence. The next year he was shut up in a stable, and the hens then all courted his rival, for the advances in these birds are always made by the female. "The japanned breed are, I believe, a variety originating in England. In Lord Brownlow's numerous breed of common white and pied, the japanned suddenly in my memory appeared 663 amongst them. The same thing happened m Sir J. Trevelyau's flock of entirely the common sort, also in a breed of common and pied, given by Lady Chatham to Mr. Thornton, and in both cases to the extinction of the previously existing breed." We have noticed that tame peafowls are extensively kept in India, and the same observation applies to Persia, where the turkey is scarcely known. In that country as in England the peacock is kept extensively as an ornament to pleasure grounds and gardens. An anonymous ^vriter observes that the King of Persia has a throne called the throne of the peacock, on ac- count of two artificial birds intended to represent peacocks, which are placed on square pillars on each side of the seat. These birds are studded with precious stones, and each of them holds a large ruby in his beak. In China the peacock commands equal admiration, and ornamental articles, as screens, &c. are made from its plumes, and mounted on ivory. As is the case with the common fowl, the female peafowl occasionally assumes the plumage of the male, and in these instances the ovary will be found diseased. Thus, "Lady Tynte had a favourite pied pea-hen, which produced chickens eight several times. John Hunter relates that this bird hanng moulted when about eleven years old, the lady and family were astonished by her displaying the feathers peculiar to the other sex, and appearing like a pied peacock. In this pro- cess the train, which became like that of the cock, first made its appearance after moulting. In the following year, having moulted again, she produced similar feathers. In the third year she did the same, and in addition had spurs resembling those of a cock. She never bred after this change of plumage, and died the following winter in the hard frost of 1775-6. This specimen was in Sir Ashton Lever's museum, and the tnink, wlli the atrophied ovaiy and oviduct, presented by Hunter, is preserved in the museum of the Royal College of Surgeons. In Hunter's account there is a note anticipating objections which will occur to most. It might be supposed, as is observed in this note, that this bird was really a cock which had been substituted for the hen, but the following facts put the point beyond doubt. First, there was no other pied peafowl in the county ; secondly, the hen had knobs on her toes, which were the same after the change ; thirdly, she was as small after the change as before, therefore too small for a cock ; fourthly, she was a favourite bird and was generally fed by the lady and used to come for her food, which she still continued to do after the change in her feathers." — Penny Cyclopcedia. We have ourselves seen instances of this change in the fowl, the pheasant, and the peafowl. and ascertained the diseased condition of the ovary by actual dissection. Besides the common peafowl, a distinct species, the Javanese or Japan peafowl {Pavo Japonensis, Aldrovand. ; Pavo Javaniciis, Hors- field ; Pavo muticus, LinniEus), is occasionally brought to Europe, and might easily be natural- ized. This bird is equal in size to the common peacock, and nearly if not quite as gorgeous in its plumage. It is a native of Java, Sumatra, the Bii-man Empire, and Japan, and was first noticed by Aldrovandus (1599), not, however, that he had seen the bird itself, but only two drawings of it sent by the Emperor of Japan to the Pope. The figure given by Aldrovandus represents this species as destitute of spurs (but erroneously), and on this mistake arose the term muticus, applied to it by Linnaeus, who himself had never seen a specimen. Subsequently, Shaw described it in his Zoolocfical Miscellany, his authority being a drawing sent from India. In the year 1813, M. Temminck gave, in the second volume of his work on Galli- naceous Birds, a sketch of the head, with a de- scription taken by Le Vaillant, from a living individual which he saw at the Cape of Good Hope, whither it had been sent from Macao. It is the Japan peacock of Latham, the pavo spici- ferus of Vieillot, and the pavo Aldrovandi of Wilson. Dr. Horsfield found this species in Java, and Sir Stamford Raffles ascertained its existence in the island of Sumatra. Living individuals have been kept in the gardens of the Zoological Society, and both in the museum of that society and in the British Museum fine specimens are preserved. Though exquisitely beautiful, the Japanese peacock differs very considerable from its common rival. Its prevailing tints are blue and gi-een, varying in intensity, and mutually changing ^into each other, according as the light falls more or less directly upon them. The crest is twice as long as it is in 2}(ti'o cristatus, and the feathers of which it is composed are regularly barbed, from the base upwards, in the adult bird, and of equal breadth throughout. Head and crest interchange- ably blue and green. The feathers of the neck and breast, unlike those in the ordinary peacock, are broad, short, rounded, and imbricated like the scales of a fish. At their base they are of the same brilliant hue as the head, and have a broad, lighter, and somewhat metalUc margin. Those of the back have still more of the metallic lustre. A naked space on the cheeks, including the eyes and ears, is coloured of a light yellow behind, and bluish green towards its fore part. The wing coverts are of the general hue, with a deeper tinge of blue. The primary quill feathers are light chestnut. The tail feathers and their coverts, constituting the train, are of a splendid 564 metallic brown, changing into green. Their barbs are extremely long, loose, silky, and somewhat decomposed. Their train plumes are almost all terminated by ocellated spots, similar to those which adorn the ti'ain of the common species, and of about the same size. In the centre they are of a beautiful deep purple ; this is surrounded by a band of green, becoming narrow behind, but widening in front, and filling up a kind of notch that occurs in the blue ; then comes a broad brownish band, and lastly a narrow black ring, edged with chestnut, all beautifully metallic, or rather presenting the hues of various precious stones when viewed in certain lights. Bill of a grayish horn colour, rather longer and more slender than in the common species. Iris deep hazel. Legs strong and dusky black. Spurs large. How far this richly-coloured bird diifers in habits and manners while in a state of nature from the common species, we cannot decidedly say. In captivity, however, it has nothing in these points peculiar to itself, but spreads its plumes, and struts about, as if proud of its refulgent attire. THE GUINEA-FOWL, OR PINTADO. The Guinea-fowl, or Pintado [Numida melea- gris), is undoubtedly the meleagris of the ancients, though, as we have already stated, this name has been bestowed as a generic appellation upon the turkey. Nevertheless, as a specific title, it is applied to the present bird, and is, consequently, used in two senses, with doubtful propriety. Brisson, indeed, has endeavoured to restore the term vieleagris in a generic sense to the Guinea- fowl, but his nomenclature in this point, though correct, has not been adopted, as it would rather lead to confusion than clear up any difficulty. The genus Numida appears to be exclusively confined to Africa — that is. in a state of nature. It is thus characterized : — Bill stout, short, vaulted, and furnished with a warty membrane at the base ; from the lower mandible hang two carunculated wattles ; head in some species naked, in others feathered ; forehead surmounted with a bony casque, in some species with a feathered crest; nostrils pierced in the cere, and divided by a cartilage ; tail short ; wings concave, the fourth quill the longest ; tarsi spurless. Several species, some of great beauty, are known. The common Guinea-fowl {Gallina di Numidia of the Italians, Poule de Guinee and Peintade of the French, Pintado of the Spanish, and Perl huhn of the GeiTaans) is a native of Africa, where it appears to be extensively distributed. It fre- quents the open glades and borders of forests, the banks of rivers, and other localities where grain, seeds, berries, insects, &c., offer an abundant supply of food. It is gregarious in its habits, associating in considerable flocks, which wander about during the day, and collect together on the approach of evening. They roost in clusters on the branches of trees or large bushes, ever and anon uttering THE GCINEA-FOWL. their harsh grating cry, till they settle fairly for the night. The Guinea-fowl does not trust much to its wings as a means of escape from danger ; indeed, it is not without some difficulty that these birds can be forced to take to flight, and then they wing their way only to a short distance, when they alight, and trust to their swiftness of foot. They run with very great celerity, and are shy and wary, and seek refuge amongst the dense underwood, threading the mazes of their covert with wonderful address. The female incubates in some concealed spot on the ground ; for the male, as in the case of the turkey, will break the eggs if he discovers them. This habit, unnatural as it may be deemed, appears to be very common among gallinaceous birds. The domestic cock, however, evidently shares in the triumph of the hen, when she has laid her eggs, and answers her peculiar note or cackle of joy. It cannot be for a moment doubted that the ancient Greeks and Romans were well acquainted with the Guinea-fowl, yet it is not easy to trace out its history. In fact, strange as it may seem, that a bird noticed by Aristotle, Clytus, Pliny, Varro, and Columella, should not ages since have pervaded Europe ; it is not until after we received the turkey that the Guinea-fowl became natural- ized in Western Europe. Its name does not occur among the list of birds appointed to be served up at the famous feast of Archbishop Neville, in the reign of Edward the Fourth. It does not appear in the Duke of Northumberland's House- hold Book (1512), nor is it alluded to in the Household Book of Henry the Eighth. Must we not, then, pardon Belon and Aldrovandus for considering the turkey as the meleagris, seeing, if 565 our suspicions be correct, that tbey did not know the Guinea-fowl. In short, from ancient times, through the middle ages, and to a comparatively recent period, we lose all trace of this bird, and, what is more, we appear to have received it, not from Africa, its native country, but from the Western World, to which, with negroes torn from their homes in Guinea and condemned to slavery, it was transported also. This bird is, indeed, so common in America and several of the West India islands, that some have thought it to be indige- nous there ; but this is a mistake. In fact, in an old work (Ohserv. sur hs Cout. de I'Asie) we are informed that, in the year 1-503, or about that time, great numbers of these birds were carried into America by the vessels which traded in slaves : but that the Spaniards, instead of attempt- ing to tame them or render them domestic, turned them at large into the wild Savannahs, where they have increased in such prodigious numbers, that they may well appear to be native. They are seen in vast flocks, and are called by the Spaniards and French maroon inntades — maroon, or more properly, in modern French, marron, meaning fugitive or emancipated. We may observe that at the present time wild pintados are common in Hayti, and are shot as game ; the same observation applies to the island of Jamaica, where they do much injury to the crops. If, then, in modern days Western Europe received the Guinea-fowl from America or the adjacent islands, how happens it that, living as it did in the vivaria of the Romans, it should not have spread itself over Europe, and been common in our country from early times ? We are assured that it has been so. Mr. H. D. Richardson says, "it would be difficult to determine the precise period at which the Guinea-fowl was first brought into Great Britain ; its introduction must, at all events, have taken place at a remote date, for we are informed, in Rennet's Parochial Antiquities, that it was known in England so early as the year ] 277." If this be the case, how happens it that we see no notice taken of it among such birds as peions or peacocks, cranes, bustards, and other birds which figured in the feasts of our ancestors, nor even at a later time, when the turkey graced the board '? Again, had tlie Guinea-fowl been common, would Belon and Aldrovandus have ever regarded the turkey as the meleagris ? However, we will not urge the point. Though extensively spread, the Guinea-fowl is not even now a very common bird. It is kept in India, but, according to Colonel Sykes, is to be seen only in a domestic state, and is bred almost exclusively by European gentlemen. It thrives, he adds, as well as in its native country. In England the Guinea-fowl is less generally kept than the turkey, nor do we think it abundant in France, as far at least as our own observation goes, but it is very easy to be deceived on such a point. We believe that in the colder latitudes of Europe this bird is very rare, and is, in fact, seldom, if ever, to be seen in Sweden, Norway, or Northern Russia. It is not noticed by LinnfEU3 in his Fauna Suecica, though he was well ac- quainted with the species. Like all the gallinaceous birds, the Guinea- fowl is esteemed for its flesh, and we may add its eggs, which, though smaller than those of the common fowl, are very excellent and numerous, the hen commencing to lay in the month of May, and continuing during the entire summer. Some regard the flesh of this bird as hard and dry, and so indeed that of an old one is, but, after the pheasant season, young birds of the year are by no means unworthy substitutes for that highly prized game. Such birds are acceptable in the London mai-ket, and fetch a fair price. Old birds are worth nothing. The Guinea-fowl is of a wild, shy, rambling disposition; in fact, domesticated as it is, it pertinaciously retains its original habits, and is impatient of restraint. It loves to wander along hedgei-ows, over meadows, through clover or corn fields, and amidst copses and shrubberies ; hence these birds require careful watching, for the hens will lay in secret places, and we have personally known them to absent themselves entirely from the farm-yard, until they returned with a young brood around them. So ingeniously (so to speak) have they concealed themselves and their nest, so cautiously have they left it and returned to it, as to elude the searching glance of boys well used to bird-nesting. There is one disadvantage in this, namely, that the bird will often sit at a late period of the year, and bring forth her brood when the season begins to be too cold for the tender chickens ; besides which, a great portion of her eggs will be lost. The best plan is to contrive that the hens shall lay in a quiet secluded place, and to give about twenty of the earliest eggs to a common hen ready to receive them, and who will perform the duties of incubation with steadiness. Ln this way a brood in June may be easily obtained. The young must receive the same treatment as those of the turkey ; they require a mixture of boiled vegetables, with curds, farinaceous food, as grits, barley-meal, &c. ; in a short time they begin to search for insects and their larvae, and with a little addition to such fare as this, and what vegetable matters they pick up, will keep themselves in good gam^- condition, without cramming or overfeeding; for a week or two before being killed for the table they should have a liberal allowance of grain. The period of incubation is twenty-six days. One male may be established as the lord of twelve or fifteen females. Though the Guinea-fowl is K K 50G njt an unprofitable bird, seeing that it is capable of prociu-ing almost entirely its own living, still it is rejected by many on account both of its wandei-ing habits, which give trouble, and its disagreeable voice, resembling the noise of a wheel turning on an ungreased axletree, and ■which is perpetually uttered; beside, the males are pugnacious, and, though spurless, are capable of inflicting considerable injury on other poultry with their stout hard beaks. Like their wild progenitors, domestic Guinea- fowls prefer roosting in the open air to entering under the roof of a fowl-house; they generally choose the lower branches of some tree, or those of large thick bushes, and there congregate to- gether in close array ; before going to roost they utter frequent calls to each other, and when one mounts up the others follow in rotation ; they retire early, before the common fowl or the pea- fowl. We have said that Guinea-fowls choose the lower branches of trees and bushes, and we speak from our own observation. Markwick, in his addi- tions to White's History of Sclhorne, on the contrary, says, " Guinea-fowls not only roost on high, but in hai'd weather resort, even in the day-time, to the very tops of the highest trees. Last winter, when the ground was covered with snow, I discovered all my Guinea-fowls, in the middle of the day, sitting on the highest boughs of some veiy tall elms, 'chattering and making a great clamour. I ordered them to be driven down lest they should be frozen to death in so elevated a situation ; but this was not effected without much difficulty, they being very unwilling to quit their lofty abode, notwith- standing one of them had its feet so much frozen, that we were obliged to kill it. I know not how to account for this, unless it was occasioned by their aversion to the snow on the ground, they being birds that came originally from a hot climate." Though the Guiuea-fowl is perhaps less calcu- lated to endure our winters than the turkey, yet we think that, with the same attention bestowed upon it as upon the pheasant, it might be natural- ized as game in our woods and large preserves ; but whether the experiment is worth undertaking, is another question. The loud reiterated cry of the Guinea-fowl, and the sonorous scream of the peacock, are said to be indicative of an approaching change of weather. This is veiy probable, but we have not ourselves verified the general opinion. Though the Guiuea- fowl seems a tolerably large bird, it is not so in reality; its loose full plumage makes it appear larger than it is — it does not, when plucked, weigh more than a common fowl, if of fair size and in good con- dition. It is a beautiful bird, but too well known to require any detailed description. The male and the female very much resemble each other ; the male, however, has the casque higher, and the wattles are of a bluish red; the wattles in the female are smaller, and red. The eggs are of a dusky white, minutely sprinlded with rusty brown. FAMILY CRACID.E, OR THE CTJRASSOWS. The Curassows {cracidce\ though belonging to the gallinaceous order, depart in some respects from the typical cha]-acters of the birds of this important section. The hind toe is not elevated on the shank or tarsus, but is rather long and touches the ground throughout its whole length, the head is fully feathered, generally crested, and there is often an extensive cere or naked skin at the base of the beak ; sometimes the head is crowned, with a horny casque or helmet, the bill is generally stout and vaulted, the trachea, in most species, forms loops or cui"vatures in front of the sternum before entering within the cavity of the chest. All the species (constituting several genera) are natives of Mexico and South America. It may be deemed wrong in us to enumerate the curassows among our domestic poultrj% and indeed our great object here is to draw attention to them as most valuable additions to our feathered stock. They are not only readily susceptible of domestication, but they have been domesticated, and on this ground we claim, for certain species at least, a place in the present work. These birds are of considerable size, and their flesh is exqui- sitely white and delicate. Various species have been kept from time to time in the menagerie of the Zoological Society, and it must be confessed without the accomplishment of the chief object in view, namely their naturaliza- tion, but it is not often that in a menagerie such an object is attained ; sufficient attention cannot be given to them, there are too many objects to which care and time have to be devoted, to render it possible for keepers and their assistants to conduct experiments with such an end in view. Besides, the birds are kept in too strict confine- ment, and on cold flagged floors, often flooded with water, producing general ill health, if not positive disease. We have seen curassows with their toes lost from the effects of cold and wet; it should be remembered that they are arboreal in tlieir habits, and natives of the forest of a hot climate, and consequently should be accommodated as far as possible in a manner consistent with their habits and requirements. Mr. Bennett, in his work on the Gardens and Menagerie of the Zoological Society of London, published some years since, drew attention to these birds, and in 1837 one of the six medals ofi'ered as premiums by the Zoological Society was to the breeder of the greatest number of curassows for that year. No claimant, however, made good his title to the prize. It was a work respecting which many were auxiuus, but few able 567 to give directions. " Of all the gallinaceous birds in the collection," says Mr. Bennett, "the^most interesting are those which hold out to us a pros- pect of supplying our farm-yards with new breeds of poultry of a superior kind. Such are especially the curassows. In many parts of South America these birds have long been reclaimed, and it is really surprising, considering the extreme fami- liarity of their manners, and the facility with which they appear to pass from a state of nature to the tameness of domestic fowls, that they have not yet been introduced into the poultry yards of Europe. That with proper treatment they would speedily become habituated to the climate, we have no reason to doubt; on the contrary, numerous examples show us that they thrive well even in its most northern parts, and M. Temminck informs us that they have once at least been thoroughly acclimated in Holland, where they were as prolific in their domesticated state as any of our common poultry. The establishment, however, in which it had been effected was broken up by the civil commotions which followed in the train of the French Revolution, and all the pains which had been bestowed on these birds were lost to the world by their sudden and complete dispersion. The task, which had at that time been in some measure accomplished, still remains to be per- formed; and it may not be too much to expect that the Zoological Society may be successful in effecting what was then begun, and in naturalizing the curassows as completely as our ancestors have done the equally exotic, and, in their wild state, much less familiar breeds of the turkey, the Guinea-fowl, and the peacock. Their introduction would certainly be most desirable, not merely on account of their size and beauty, but also for the whiteness and excellence of their' flesh, which is said by those who have eaten it to surpass that of the Guinea-fowl or the pheasant in the delicacy of its flavour." For ourselves we think that private individuals with moderate means at command, and bent upon the accomplishment of the desirable object of naturalizing these birds, would be far more success- ful than any institution or society, more especially in some of our southern counties, as Surrey, Sussex, Hampshire, and Kent. The birds should be kept in a large dry yard or netted enclosure, with a grass-plot and water in it ; there should be two or three trees of moderate elevation, or in lieu thereof artificial trees made of branches, to which the birds should have free access ; to this should be attached a good higli barn, perfectly weather- tight, with perches at some distance overhead; to this barn they must be induced to resort every evening, which may be done by giving them their evening meal there, and then closing the door. There should be a window or two in the walls, well secured by netting, in order to give them suffi- cient light; boxes placed at the ends of the perches, or in such situations as are in accordance with their instincts, should be provided for the hens to lay in, and be lined with straw and dried leaves. Should the hens exhibit no disposition to incubate, the eggs may be placed under a common fowl. The food and general treatment should assimilate to what is recommended in the case of the turkey. We give general directions only ; the successful cultivator of these birds will have many things to learn from experience, but his knowledge of their habits in a state of nature will be a very safe and efficient guide to him. He must remember that the curassows are arboreal in their habits, far more so than either the peafowl, the turkey, or the Guinea- fowl; that most, though not all, make their large rude nests on the topmost branches of tall trees, and that the young, as we believe, are not in so forward a state, on their exit from the egg, as the young of the ground-breeding ffalUnacem. It is not our object to describe every species of curassow, but to select from among them such only as are most likely to become readily natural- ized ; those, in fact, which for this purpose have been already introduced into the vivaria of England and the Continent, and in the management of which M. Ameshoff in Holland was so successful. 1. The Galeated Curassow {Ourax pauxi, Cuv.) In the genus ourax the bill is short, stout, compressed laterally, and vaulted above ; the base of the upper mandible is dilated into a sort of helmet rising over the top of the head. This protuberance, however, is not visible in young birds till after the first moulting, when it appears as a small tubercle; it is much larger iti the adult males than the females, and in the former attains the height of two inches ; externally it is hard and bony, internally it is cellular and communicates with the back of the mouth. The nostrils (at least in this species) are placed behind the pro- K K 2 5(i8 tuberance in a membranous cere covered with short velvety feathers, the head is covered ■with short and closely set feathers, tarsi long, tail composed of fourteen stiff pens. The galeated curassow equals a hen turkey in size ; it is a native of the forests of Mexico, where it lives in large flocks, which frequent the branches of tallest trees. It is said, however, to make its nest generally on the ground, a circum- stance the more favourable for its naturalization as a domestic bird. The young are led about by the female, following her exactly in the same way as the chickens of the ordinary fowl, or of the pheasant or partridge, follow their respective mothers, obedient to her call. At first the young feed principally on insects and their larvae, such as those of ants, &c., which are everywhere abundant ; by degrees they begin to feed on various seeds and fruits, much in the same way as does the young of the turkey, which bird, in many of its general habits, this species appears to re- semble. The galeated curassow, with the exception of the abdominal region, under tail coverts, and extreme tip of the tail, which are white, is of a rich glossy black, with a tinge of green exhibiting itself in certain lights ; the helmet is slate coloured, the tarsi are red, the claws yellow, the bill is bright red, the iris brown. The trachea or wind- pipe sweeps down for a considerable distance under the skin of the breast, making three loops or convolutions before it passes into the cavity of the chest. In an allied species [ourax ntitu, Cuv.) the course of the ti'achea before it turns into the chest is very protracted (see Yarrell in Proceeds. Zool. Soc, 1830-1, part i.) In captivity the galeated curassow is gentle and familiar, and we have no hesitation, from our own experience, in asserting that if once naturalized (and we regret that we are so situated as to render the attempt impracticable on our own part), this beauti- ful bird would be as tame and confiding as any pet fowls in a farm-yard, but we are sorry to say that we have never seen a chance given to it of displaying itself in its truly reclaimed condition. In this opinion relative to its docility we are con- firmed by M. Teniminck, who informs us that it was one of the species not only the most easily domesticated, but which bred the most freely, in the menagerie of M. Ameshoff, before the lament- able disasters subsequent to the French revolution — we mean that of 1793. As we have intimated, other species belong to the genus ourax, but the species here described is the most common in our menageries, and therefore the most likely to attract the notice of a patriotic cultivator of our feathered dependents. 2. The Crested Curassow ((7raa;aZ€c(or, Linn.) ' — In the genus crax, the bill is moderate in length, compressed, deep at the base, carinated above and curved towards the tip; it is encircled by a basal cere pierced by longitudinal nostrils, which are partially covered. Lore naked ; head crested with curled feathers ; tail ample and spread out, con- sisting of fourteen pens. The crested curassow equals, or rather excels, the preceding species in size, and is a very graceful and noble bird ; it is a native of Mexico, Guiana, and Brazil, and in fact appears to have an exten- sive range over the wanner regions of the American continent. It abounds to such an extent in the woods of Guiana, that M. Sonnini regards it as one of the surest sources of supply on which a traveller penetrating the vast forests of that region, with his gun only, to which he must look for subsistence, may place his reliance. This bird congregates in numerous flocks, which are in general little disturbed by the intrusion of man into their haunts ; indeed, so unsuspicious are they that when their ranks have been thinned by the fowling-piece or rifle, the rest have remained quietly perched upon the trees, as if unconscious of the havoc committed amongst them. In the neigh- bourhood of inhabited places, however, where their proximity to man, who is their most active perse- cutor, has taught them to fear him, they are far more wild, cautious, and distrustful, and recede deeper into the recesses of the wood on the approach of the hunter, who nevertheless destroys them in great numbers. They build large rude nests oji the branches of trees, constructing them of twigs and sticks interlaced with stalks of herbaceous plants, and lining them with a bed of dried leaves and grass. Their period of incubation is said to be during the rainy season. According to Azara, the female lays eight eggs (Sonnini says five or six), nearly as large as those of a turkey, but white and thick-shelled. In captivity the crested curassow is gentle and 569. familiar, and, according to M. Ameshoff's expe- rience in his vivarium, may be domesticated with very little trouble. The galeated curassow is a fine bird, but we think this species to be altogether more graceful ; its beautiful forward-curled crest is an elegant ornament, it consists of velvety feathers from two to three inches in length, and is capable of being raised or depressed at pleasure. The eyes are surrounded by a naked skin, which extends to the cere, aud there assumes a bright yellow colour. The general plumage is of a deep black with a slight metallic gloss of green, the abdominal region being of a dull white. There are other species included in the genus crax, of which we shall mention only one, the red- knobbed curassow [crax Yarrellii), described from a species which died in the menagerie of the Zoological Society ; in general characters it agrees with crax glohicera, Linn. For an account of the structure of the trachea in this species we refer to the Proceedings of the Zool. Sac, for February, 1831. In passing over some species without definite notice we may perhaps, iu the eyes of a few, com- mit an egregious error ; but our object is not to give a monograph on the cracidce, which would be a work in itself of some magnitude, but to indicate from among the numerous species those which, from our personal acquaintance with them in a living state, we can conscientiously recommend as most fitted for the experiment of domestication. Other species, we doubt not, are equal to the two we have already mentioned, hut they are rarer, and what is more, have never been subjected to any test. To theorize upon the origin of domestic animals, and to give plain directions consonant with our own experience, are two different things. Were we to attempt the naturalization of any curassows (aud our will is good), we should select the two previously noticed, not, however, to the exclusion of another, which, though not called a curassow, has little to distinguish it from birds bearing that name, and to which it is indeed immediately related. We shall therefore include it in our list. 3. The GuAVi (Penelope cristata, Gmelin). — The generic characters oi Penelope are thus detailed by systematic ornithologists : — Bill moderate, naked at the base, convex and high, bent at the point ; lore and base of the bill naked ; under the throat a naked wattle-like skin, which is capable of being inflated or swollen ; nostrils pierced in the cere, towards the middle of the bill half closed ; tarsi long and slender ; tail-feathers twelve. The guans are of more rare occurrence in our menageries or vivaria than the curassows ; we have, however, very frequently observed the present species — the crested guan — and can affirm that it is in all respects as fitted for naturalization as either of the preceding ; indeed it has been domes- ticated in Holland, and therefore miglit be so in our country, though perhaps less profitably, as it appears that though these birds associate in flocks, they pair like the pigeon or the partridge. Perhaps their introduction as game might be the most advisable. We are told by M. Temminck that the pro- prietor of a menagerie near Utrecht had bred the crested guan for several years ; hence, as Mr. Bennett observes, " there can be little doubt that with proper care and attention these birds might be added to the stock of our domesticated fowls. They are spoken of as furnishing an excellent dish for the table. In a wild state they inhabit Guiana and Brazil, and perhaps extend still farther to the north. Their food consists principally of seeds and fruits, which they search for upon the gi'ound, but the greater part of their existence is passed upon the trees, on the to])s of which they perch, and iu which they build their nests. They are often found in large bands, but generally pair together with the strictest constancy. The females lay from two to five eggs. Their flight, like that of most gallinaceous birds, in consequence of the shortness of their wings, is low and heavy, aud in the perfonnance of this action they derive much assistance from their tail, the feathers of which may be expanded in the shape of a fan. All the birds of this genus appear to be known in Brazil by the name of jacu, pronounced yacou, derived, according to Marcgrave, from their note. This, as might be expected from the conformation of their trachea, is extremely loud, insomuch that when a considerable number are collected near the same spot, the very woods, to use the expression of the scientific traveller (Marcgrave), re-echo with their clamorous cries." This species has been long domesticated in the poultry-yards of South America, and, as may be supposed, is subject to some slight variation in plumage ; hence has arisen a difficulty as to the elucidation of species, and to this per[Dlexity M. Spix has not a little added, by giving in his Brazilian Birds a series of figures representing several so-called species, differing iu trifling points of marking from the common form. We believe with Mr. Bennett tha^ most of these will ultimately be found to be referable to the present species. At the same time we confess that an elucidation of the species of this gemis, and indeed of the cracidce altogether, is yet a deside- ratum. The crested guan (Penelope cristata) may be thus described : — The upper parts generally are dusky black, or rather of a bronzed black glossed with green, changing in certain lights into metallic olive ; from the under part of the bill proceeds a black stripe, which surrounds the ear ; the bill is blackish, the cheeks are naked and of a violet 570 purple ; the feathers on the top of the head are long, forming a thick tuft or crest, which the bird can raise or depress at pleasure ; the naked part of the throat is scarlet, with a contractile and extensile fold of depending skin, assuming the appearance of a large wattle ; the fore- part of the neck and chest are spotted with whitish, each feather being bordered by this colour ; lower part of the back, abdomen, and thighs, reddish or red- brown ; the trachea is looped under the skin of the breast before proceeding to enter the thoracic cavity — but for minute details on this anatomical point, we refer to Mr. Yarrell's paper in the Fro- ceedings of the Zool. Soc. for 1833. The female in this species of guan differs from the male in external characters, principally in having her plumage, that of the under parts more especially, tinged with red. Length about tliirty inches, of which the tail feathers are thirteen. Size that of a large hen turkey. Several other species of guans (Penelope) are described, as P. Ahurri, inhabiting the mountains of New Grenada, P. Parralwna and P. Pavita; but of these we have no practical knowledge — that is to say, as living in our vivaria. They are de- scribed as being arboreal and solitary, uttering loud cries on the close of day and early in the morning, and rarely visiting the ground. In looking over some notes relative to the curassows, which we have ourselves studied at the gardens of the Zoological Society, we find that we may add to our list the globose cui'assow {crax glohicera), locality, Guiana and Brazil ; and Yar- rell's curassow [crax Yarrellii, Bennett), also from Guiana — familiar birds, but which are not fre- quently introduced into Europe. There is, how- ever, one species, the red curassow {crax rubra), worth particular notice — a beautiful bird, which is a native of Peru and Mexico. It is kept in a domesticated state in the warm parts of America and some of the West India islands. This species is subject to much variety of plumage, and, as it is asserted, it interbreeds when tame with other species of the genus, producing various cross- breeds. Such varieties, said to be between the red curassow and the crested curassow, we have ourselves seen — bred, moreover, in England. This species is the hocco de Peru of Buffon, hocco being the French name for these birds in general. There are other genera belonging to the family cracidce, as ortaUda, ojnstlwconms, &c., but of these we can select no species which has claim to notice in such a work as this. At the same time, we cannot help obseiTing that some of the species, as the ortalide {ortalida motmot, pliasianus motmot, Gmelin) and others, might be introduced as valu- able game into our woods and forests. In talking about the introduction of new game, we know that we are touching a dangerous point ; but we are writing merely as a naturalist. CHAPTER V. THE COLUMBINE ORDER. Order, Cohimhcp, Gray ; Sponsores, De Blainville; Gyrantes, Bonaparte ; Gyratores, Nobis. — From this order — for an order it undoubtedly is, with doubtful alliances^one species only (we except the collared turtle-dove, columha risoria, kept in aviai-ies) is known as a domestic bird. We allude to the common pigeon and its many varieties, the result of culture. The columbine order includes many families, and of these s6me approach the gallinaceous birds in many of their habits and characteristics. Such, for example, are the columU-gallmes of Le Vaillant, the wattled pigeon (geophilus caiwwidus) of South Africa, the Nicobar pigeon {colmnba ? Nicobarica, Latham), and the crowned pigeons (gen. lophyrus), exceeding the common fowl in size, and of which two species have been kejit alive in the menagerie of the Zoological Society. Others, on the contraiy, depart widely from the gallinaceous type, and yet, in our opinion, do not approach any of the pas- serine forms in essential particulars. We do not mean to say that there are no points of agreement, but that these are common points, and therefore no mdications of close alliance. There is no part of the globe, setting aside the high boreal regions, destitute of birds of this order ; but the species are most numerous in the warmer latitudes. Australia, New Zealand, the islands of the Indian Archipelago, and many in the Southern Ocean, present us with species of pre-eminent beauty. Some, as we have intimated, are, like gallinaceous birds, almost exclusively ter- restrial in their habits; others are exclusively arboreal, making their home in the depth of the woods ; while a few are rupestral, haunting craggy precipices and steep abrupt cliffs, in the fissures and on the ledges of which they place their rude nests, and rear their young. Such are the habits of the columba livia or rock-dove, the parent of our domestic varieties. It is not here our purpose to enter into an analytical investigation of the various groups into which the columbine order may be subdivided ; nevertheless, a cursory siu-vey of the distinctive 671 characteristics of the true or typical piyeons is within the scope of our present subject. The passerine hu-ds, like the spari-ovv, linnet, lark, or redbreast, as examples, pair in the spring. The female rears one or two broods, sometimes three, during the season. The eggs are generally five, in some instances many more. The young are hatched helpless and unfledged, and are fed by the parents, who both unite in the care of the young, and generally in the duty of incubation. Gallinaceous birds, on the contrary, with certain exceptions, as the partridge, ai'e polygamous. The females lay numerous eggs. The young are hatched in so forward a state of development as to be able, in the course of a few hours, to run about and feed themselves. They remain under the care of the female only, the male taking no interest in them. Pigeons pair, and it would appear that the union continues dvu'ing life, which is not the case among the passerine tribes. Both male and female engage in the construction of the nest, and relieve each other in the task of incubation. Two eggs only are laid, and the young are hatched blind, naked, and helpless, and sedulously fed and cherished by both parents. Several pairs of young are reared during the season. The young are fed for some days after exclusion from the egg, not on pulse or grain, or insects, but upon a peculiar lacteous secretion which is poured out from a series of glands in the crop both of the male and female, these glands developing themselves into activity by a mysterious law at the proper juncture. This lacteous fluid is very abundant, and, as we have often seen, will frequently drip from the bills of the pigeons as they approach towards their young. It is thrown into the open mouths of the nestlings by a kind of exgurgitation, the receiving one and the giver being both in agitation. In the course of a few days, pulse or grain, moistened in the crops of the parents, and mixed with this lacteous curdy fluid, is given, the secretion gi'adually de- creasing as it is less and less required, till at length peas, moistened or macerated in the crop, are alone transferred into that of the young. Previously to the time in which this lacteous secretion is needed, the crop of the pigeon is thin and membranous ; but as the incubation approaches to a close, the membranes of the crop become thickened and very vascular, and the inner lining has a corrugated and glandular appearance. The lacteous secretion now begins to flow abun- dantly, precipitating a curd-like matter, which, mixed with the fluid, is transferred from the crop of the parent to that of the young. About the third day, some of the ordinai-y food after maceration in the crop is added, its proportion being increased, till at length, when the young quit the nest, it constitutes their food entirely. We need not say that nothing like this lac- teous secretion is produced for the support of the young in the crops of any species of the galli- naceous order ; yet in many other bii'ds the secre- tion of a fluid from the lining membrane of the crop takes place while they are rearing their young, and is mixed with the food which they transfer into the crop of the latter. In fact, it is more general among the finches than naturalists have suspected, and is also common to the parrot tribe. This circumstance did not escape the ob- servant eye of the celebrated John Hunter. " Besides the dove kind," he writes, " I have some reason to suppose parrots to be endowed with the same faculty, as they have the power of throwing up the contents of the crop and feeding one another. I have seen the cock parroquet regu- larly feed the hen, by filling his own crop, and then supplying her from his beak. Parrots, ma- caws, cockatoos, &c., when they are very fond of the person who feeds them, may likewise be ob- served to have the action of throwing up the food, and often do it. The cock pigeon, when he caresses the hen, performs the same kind of action as when he feeds his young ; but I do not know if at this time he throws up anything from the crop." This latter doubt we can answer. He does not throw up a milky secretion, but often the macerated peas or beans on which he is fed. We may add, that we have never observed this action of regurgitation in the gray parrot, nor in any of the large green parrots from South America. The honey-eating parroquets of Australia feed their young with the nectar of flowers, with which they have filled their crop, but we do not know whether any peculiar secretion be added to it or not. So far, then, it would appear that the pigeons have peculiarities in which they differ most de- cidedly from the gallinaceous order on the one hand, and the passerine order on the other ; and yet to both these orders have diff'erent natural- ists assigned them, according to their respective theories. A few other points peculiar to the columbine order have yet to be noticed. None of the pigeons can be said to be true perching bii'ds. Some, indeed, are decidedly terrestrial, but even those whose habits are arboreal may be said rather to rest upon the larger boughs than to adhere to their perch by a firm grasp. Their tarsi and toes resemble neither those of gallinaceous birds nor those of the passerine tribes generally. The tarsi are mostly short and thick, as are the toes also, which latter are furnished with blunt feeble claws. The tarsi are covered in front with broad imbri- cated scales. The hind toe, even in the most terrestrial species, is not placed high on the tarsus, as in the fowl, but on the same plane with the others, and in walking is fairly pressed to the ground. In this character the pigeons agree with 672 the curassows. The form of the bill in the pigeons is peculiar. It is moderate in size, compressed laterally, more or less elevated and curved at the point, and covered at the base of the upper man- dible with a soft swelling skin, in which the nostrils are pierced. The general plumage is full, closely arranged, but composed of soft feathers slightly adherent to the skin. The wings are long and pointed, the quill feathers firm, the pectoral muscles voluminous, and the powers of flight at a high ratio. However, there are exceptions. In the crowned pigeons of the Moluccas and New Guinea (gen. lophyriis) the wings are rounded and concave, and the powers of flight reduced. The tarsi, moreover, are covered with rounded scales. The voice of the pigeon is a deep, hoarse, or giittural cooing, uttered principally by the male, as the language of endearment to his mate — " Nee gemere ae'ria cessabit turtur ab ulmo." While uttering this gemitus, the crop swells out, being inflated with air from the lungs, and the bird struts about, alternately raising and lowering his head. Pigeons drink differently to most other birds. Gallinaceous birds sip, and raise up their heads ; but pigeons take a long-continued draught, as Gilbert White says, like quadrupeds. So far we have sketched out generalities, nor shall we here attempt more. To enter into the details of families and genera would be foreign to our main purpose. We here merely desire to place the columbine order in its correct light, as we think, before an intelligent reader. We have already intimated that the rock-dove \Columha livia) is the origin of all our domestic ■pigeons. This is a British bird, but is most widely diffused, not only over Europe, but over Asia and Afiica. Everywhere it haunts rocks, precipices, and caverns along the shore; towers, cathedrals, and high buildings. We have seen numbers about Canterbury Cathedral ; and even in London wild blue pigeons make their nests in the crevices and on the ledges of several of our public edifices, though perhaps these may he feral — that is, emancipated and returned to a state of nature — or partly intermixed with true wild birds. They must fly far abroad for food, and in winter, per- haps, trust to green vegetables and what they can pick up in the fallow fields, together with haws, the fruit of the dog-rose, and the seeds of wild plants. These birds swarm along the cliffs bordering the sea of Spain, Italy, France, and North Africa. Myriads tenant the recesses or caves of the rock of Gibraltar and the rock of Teneriffe. In India this species congregates in vast flocks, and is a constant inhabitant of every dilapidated building. According to Colonel Sykes, it is the j'jarjt'a of the Mahrattas ; but this able observer confounds it with the stock-dove (Columba t»?ias), an arboreal species, which (having examined the specimens) we unhesitatingly venture to cor- rect. In Britain, says Mr. Selby, it is found in various cliffs along the wide extent of our shores, as those of Caddy Island in South Wales. It is a never-failing resident in the wild precipices of the Orkneys, breeding in the caves, which are there numerous and of large dimensions, and where, ac- cording to Low, it retires to the inmost recesses, beyond the situations chosen for incubation by the auks, gulls, and other aquatic fowls. It also inhabits the caves in the cliff at St. Abb's Head, on the Benvickshire coast, in considerable num- bers, as well as those in the isle of Bass in the Firth of Forth. The habits of this bird are eloquently de- scribed by Vu'gil in one of his apt similes {^neid, lib. V.) :— " Qualis spelunca subito commota columba Cui (iomus, et dulces latebroso in pumice nidi ' Feitur in aira volans, plausumque, exterrita, pennis > Dat tecto ingenlem, mox acre lapsa quieto Eadit iter liquidum, celeres neque commovel alas." which we may thus translate : — " Like as the dove, suddenly disturbed in her cavern, M'hose nesting-place and darling joimg are in the obscurity of the rock, Dashes forth abroad, and atKghted clashes her wings. Resounding in the cave, then gliding into the still air. Skims the liquid way, nor moves her rapid pinions." This description is so characteristic, that it deserves the notice of the ornithologist ; but we have seen no poetical translation which pleases us; and, indeed, we ought to apologize for the feebleness of our literal version. In all times true poets have been observers of nature, but zoologists in general have overlooked their passing descriptions. Having thus introduced the rock-dove or 678. Columha livia to our reader, a few words tending to throw light in a popular manner upon the British columha may clear up all difficulties. We may premise by stating, that the ring-necked turtle-dove, so often kept in cages and aviaries, is not a British bird. It is a native of Africa and Asia. It is common in India, in Egypt, and in Africa from north to south. It is the " turtle " of the Scriptures, and was probably the T^th'ao' of the Greeks. 1. The Common Turtle-Dove (Turtur auri- tus, Ray; Columha turtur, Linn.) — This elegant bird is a summer visitant to our island, arriving about the beginning of May and departing eai-ly in September. It is seldom to be met with in the northern or western counties, but is common in Essex, Kent, Surrey, Susses, Middlesex, &c., where it breeds in the thickest woods, and may sometimes be seen in small flocks frequenting the pea-fields as soon as the crop begins to ripen. It is strictly monogamous, building a flat rude nest of twigs in the embowerment of dense foliage. The eggs are two, and of a white colour, about half as large as those of the common pigeon. This bird is spread over the whole of the southern and tem- perate parts of Europe. Its food consists of seeds, grain, ben-ies, &c. 2. The RiNG-DovE, Cdshat, or Quest {Co- lumha palumhm, Linn.) — The ring-dove, or ramier of the French, is a sedentary bird in the warmer and temperate portions of Europe, but migratoiy in colder latitudes. It is our largest British species of pigeon, and is a permanent resident. It frequents woods and large groves, breeding early in the spring, and producing about three broods in the course of the season. It builds a flat nest of sticks and twigs in the fork of a branch, and often in fir trees or amidst masses of clustering ivy. After the breeding season, these birds assemble in flocks, and visit fields of peas or beans, and stubble fields ; acorns and beach-mast are also in great request. As the winter advances, berries and green vegetables, such as turnip tops, &c., constitute their food. With respect to green vegetables as food for gra- minivorous birds, the present included, Gilbert White says : — " One of my neighbours shot a ringdove on an evening as it was returning from feed and going to roost. When his wife had picked and drawn it, she found its craw stuffed ■with the most nice and tender tops of turnips. These she washed and boiled, and so sat down to a choice and delicate plate of greens, culled and provided in this extraordinary manner. Hence we may see that graminivorous birds, when grain fails, can subsist on the leaves of vegetables. There is reason to suppose that they would not long be healthy without them ; for turkeys, though corn-fed, delight in a variety of plants, such as cabbage, let- tuce, endive, &c., and poultry pick much grass, while geese live for months on commons by graz- ing alone." To this Markwick [Notes upon White) adds, " That many graminivorous birds feed also on the herbage or leaves of plants, there can be no doubt. Partridges and larks frequently feed on the green leaves of turnips, which gives a peculiar flavour to their flesh that is to me very palatable." Mr. Selby, however, says that the flesh of the ring-dove, excellent as it is while the bird feeds on grain, is strong and unpalatable after a diet on turnip-tops, rape, and other ciiiciform plants. This fine pigeon is too well known to require description. 3. The Stock-Dove (Columha anas). — The stock-dove (La columbin, ou petit ramier of the French) has been erroneously regarded as the stock whence has descended our common pigeons ; but this is an error. The stock-dove is arboreal ill its habits, and is principally confined to our midland comities, where it is a permanent resi- dent, breeding in woods, its nide nest being often placed on the top or in the hollow of some aged pollard tree. In its habits it precisely agrees with the ring-dove, and it feeds on the same food. As tills bu'd and the Columha livia have been con- founded, and as this bird has been supposed to be the origin of our domestic race, we give the following description of it from Selby : — Head and throat deep bluish gray ; sides of the neck glossed with different shades of green and purple ; the feathers shorter, more distinct, and stiffer than those of the rock-dove ; lower parts of the neck and breast pale lavender purple ; belly, thighs, and under tail coverts bluish gi-ay, with a slight purplish tinge ; back deep bluish gray ; wing coverts paler, and some of the greater ones spotted and barred with black, but not forming any defined har as in Columha livia ; quills black- ish gray, the outer webs near the base of the feathers passing into bluish gray ; lower part of the back bluish gray ; tail of the same colour, with a broad black bar at the end, and having the outermost feather margined with white; wings, when closed, reaching to ahout half the length of the tail ; irides hrownish red ; legs and toes bright cochineal red. 4. The EocK-DovE {Columha livia). — This non-arboreal rock and tower haunting bird (Le bisset of the French) approaches in plumage to the foregoing species, from which, however, it is most decidedly distinct. The following characters will serve to mark it : — Bill blackish brown ; irides pale reddish orange ; greater coverts and second- aries barred with black, and forming two hroad and distinct hands across the closed ivings ; lower part of the back white; wings, when closed, reaching to within half an inch of the end of the tail; legs jmle purplish red. In size the two 674 species nearly agree, but the rock-dove is more slender. It is, then, from this bird that our domestic pigeon claims descent ; and although Gilbert White entertained some indefinite ideas respecting the stock-dove, the mode of nidification of which he was unacquainted with, he clearly discriminated between the species, and in a letter to Pennant (XCIV.) thus expresses himself: — " I readily concur with you in supposing that house-doves are derived from the small blue rock pigeon for many reasons. In the first place, the wild stock-dove is manifestly larger than the common house-dove, against the usual rule of domestication, which generally enlarges the breed. Again, those two remarkable black spots on the remiges of each wing of the stock-dove, which are so characteristic of the species, would not, one should think, be totally lost by its being reclaimed, but would often break out among its descendants. But what is worth a hundred arguments is the instance you give in Sir Roger Mostyn's house- doves in Caernarvonshire, which, though tempted by plenty of food and gentle treatment, can never be prevailed on to inhabit their cot for any time, but, as soon as they begin to breed, betake them- selves to the fastnesses of Orm's-head, and deposit theiryoungin safety, amidst the inaccessible caverns and precipices of that stupendous promontory." We know a church tower in Worcestershire within which, in our younger days, scores of eman- cipated pigeons bred. They obtained their own living, and the clerk, who kept the keys of the the church, availed himself of the young for his table. This could not be called robbing the church — the pigeons only paid their tithe for occupancy. The rock-dove feeds on grain and seeds of various kinds, as well as on vegetables. Accord- ing to Montagu, it also devours some kinds of snail, and is especially fond of the helix virgata ; but this we cannot assert from our own knowledge. It breeds about three times in the season. It is evident that from a veiy remote period the pigeon has been domesticated in the East, and thence, we suspect, has gradually spread over Europe, at least as far as some of its varieties are concerned, such as the carrier, the barb, and others. To reclaim the pigeon up to a certain point is by no means difficult ; in fact, dove-house pigeons, kept in large flocks for the supply of the markets with the young during the season, are rather familiarized than reclaimed — they retain much of their wild nature, and, generally speaking, so closely resemble the rock-dove in appearance as to render it difficult to distinguish between them ; they are usually of a leaden blue, barred on the wings, and white on the lower part of the back. Such also is the character of the pigeons kept in the dove-towers of Persia ; amidst the vast flocks of which a white pigeon is so rarely to be seen as to be regarded as a sort of prodigy. Though fancy pigeons are kept for the sake of their beauty and peculiarities, the ordinary dove- house pigeon is reared almost exclusively for the sake of its flesh, which is accounted in most countries a delicacy. But how far the rearing of great numbers of these birds is profitable in our country may admit of question ; the quantity of gray peas, beans, and grain, which even a small flock will annually consume, is enormous. What, then, must be the consumption of flocks of many hundreds ? We cannot give any certain statistical details, but, turning to M'CuUoch's Account of the British Empire, we find (vol. i., p. 500) the follow- ing observations : — " Pigeons. There are great numbers of these birds in England. A dove-cot is reckoned an indispensable adjunct to a country gentleman's residence, and in many counties it is customary for farmers to keep a few pairs. They are occasionally reared in the view of supplying the market, but for the most part they are kept as articles of luxury. They are very voracious, and destroy great quantities of grain. There are some rather curious speculations on this subject in Van- couver's Survey of Devon. He supposes that there are in all 20,000 pigeon-houses and 1,125,000 pairs of dove-house pigeons in England and Wales, and that they consume 157,500,000 pints, or 4,921,875 Winchester bushels of grain a-year! Of course there must be a good deal of looseness in this statement ; it has been said by some to be much under, and by others to be much over the mark. But, without giving any opinion on this point, there can at all events be no question that the number of pigeons is very great, and that the destiaiction they can-y on, when considered in the aggregate, must be very considerable indeed." Young pigeons sell in the market for about a shilling per couple — the breeder, of course, sells them for much less ; each pair will rear four pairs of young in the season. Will the piice obtained for these four pairs remunerate the breeder for the keep of a pair of adult birds throughout the year ? We much doubt it; however, we will not be positive, for in some districts these birds may be kept at far less expense than in others. In the markets in France pigeons are abundant and very fine, and in some parts of that country we have seen them in enormous flocks scattered over the fields gleaning for themselves ; but in spring, and again through- out the winter, they must require more food than they can collect by ranging the country. It is principally from France that the London markets derive their supply. In Western Asia, Syria, and Egypt, pigeons in modern days, as in times of antiquity, are kept in great multitudes; and conspicuous dove-cotes, towering above the habitations of man, are seen 575. in most of the villages. These dove-cote pigeons procure their own food, and about the time when the com begins to ripen, are joined by vast flocks of wild doves, which remain till the harvest is over. The young of the dove-cote pigeons are in high estimation, but the adults are tough and dry. The partiality of the Egj-ptians for young pigeons is noticed by Maillet {Letter ix., p. 22). Thevenot, indeed, says that house-pigeons in Egypt are good for nothing, but he evidently alludes to the old birds and not to the young. In Harmer's Observations, vol. iv. (Ed. Clarke), the following passage occurs : — " The number of pigeon-houses is extremely great in Egypt, each habitation being terminated at the top by a pigeou-house above three-quarters of the way from the first cataract to Cairo. They are numerous also in Lower Egypt, and Maundrell found them as plentiful in some parts of Syria ; there is reason to suppose that in the time when the Jews possessed their own country they were then as numerous there. Pigeons, how- ever, do not seem to have bred as early in Palestine as in Egypt, since it a)ipears, by a citation in Lightfoot, that their not being fledged and fit for use was one cause anciently of intercalating the year ; young pigeons then were not to be commonly had in Judea till the passover, that is till April or May, but we find that there are young ones in Egypt, or at least in Upper Egypt, much earlier, for Dr. Pococke had a present of twelve pigeons made to him in January or Febniary." Young pigeons were enjoined by Moses as a sacrificial oflering. On turning to an excellent copy of the cele- brated Prsenestiue pavement, which abounds in the representation of various animals, and is there- fore as interesting to the zoologist as to the anti- quarian, we find pigeons and a pigeon-house represented on the banks of a river or canal ; a man is apparently calling to the birds or inviting them to come down for food. The building has a sloped roof, with ranges of holes in the latter for the entrance of the birds. This barn-like building is an adjunct to what seems to be a splendid mansion. " Who are these," says Isaiah, " that fly as a cloud and as doves to their windows!" an expres- sion tending to prove that in his time these birds were kept in vast multitudes in Western Asia and the adjacent regions, and had dove-cotes expressly built for their accomodation. In Persia pigeons from remote times have been kept in vast multitudes, and are so at the present time. It is probable that in ancient periods they were eaten (at least the young) as in other parts adjacent ; such, however, is not generally the case now, they are kept only for the sake of their dung, which is essential as a manure for melon beds. The melons of Ispahan are celebrated for their superiority, and in the neighboui'hood of that city (and in numerous other localities) incredible num- bers of pigeons are reared. Tower-like edifices are erected for their habitation in the outskirts of the town. These large round towers are larger in circumference at the base than at the top ; they slope upwards like a windmill, and on the top are surmounted by a smaller tower, crowned by a sugar-loafed spire pierced with orifices through which the birds have the means of entrance and egress. Externally these conspicuous buildings are painted and ornamented, and are very pic- turesque ; latticed windows admit light into them. The hiside may be described as a honey-comb of breeding cells, each cell being occupied by its exclusive pair. These towers are private property, and are built by persons who rear these birds for the sake of their manure, which is in fact guano, and has been used time immemorial. " There is nothing new under the sun," certainly the manure which we call guano — that is, the accumulated dung of birds — is no novelty in agriculture. No fine melons, a fruit most desirable in Eastern countries, are grown in Persia where this guano is not used. Let it be remembered that melons are necessaries not luxuries in Persia, where a man in rags may be seen squatted down in the street munching a melon which in our northern island would be acceptable on a nobleman's table. It is said that the Persian dove-cotes are not so well stocked as formerly, and that some are now almost if not entirely empty. Still, as it is, from some of these buildings the cloud of pigeons which emerge is suSicient to obscure the sun as they fly overhead, wheeling round and round, before they take their flight to their feeding grounds. Morier [Second Journey, p. 140) says of these flocks, that " their great numbers and the compactness of their mass literally looked like a cloud at a distance, and obscured the sun in their passage." What must be the noise of the multitude of their wings as they rush forth from their tower ! To these flocks may be applied the words of Audubon, when describing the passenger-pigeon of North America. " At once, like a torrent, and with a noise like thunder, they rushed into a compact mass, pressing each other towards the centre. In these almost solid masses they darted forward in undulating and angular lines, descended and swept close to the earth with inconceivable velocity, mounted perpendicularly so as to resemble a vast column, and when high were seen wheeling and twisting within their continued lines, which then resembled the coils of a gigantic serpent. The air was literally filled with pigeons ; the light of noon-day was obscured as by an eclipse." The use to which the dung of pigeons is ex- pressly appropriated in Persia — that is, to the manuring of melon grounds — leads us to reflect upon a passage in the Second Book of Kings, 576 (v. 25). Without paraphrasing a simple statetaent.we may quote the circumstances under which this article became so dear, in the words of the sacred volume, " And it came to pass after this, that Ben-hadad king of Syria gathered all his host and besieged Samaria ; and there was a great famine in Samaria, and behold they besieged it, until au ass's head was sold for four- score pieces of silver, and the fourth part of a cab of dove's dung for five pieces of silver." Samaria was the chief city of a district of the same name, in the central part of Palestine — a fertile district, where we may suppose that melons were largely culti- vated, and in ordinaiy demand ; for the rearing of these, dove's dung was an essential, but the extra- mural dove-houses were in the hands of enemies ; few were within the city walls. Yet, as was com- mon, extensive gardens were within those walls (for oriental cities are not like those of modem Europe) — yet in these gardens the necessary fruit for popular consumption could not be grown for ■want of the proper manure, and the few intra- mural pigeon-towers could scarcely supply the quan- tity required ; it therefore became dearer. On the other hand, this term " dove's dung" might have meant something very different to what the words imply ; that is, some article of human food — pulse or grain. On consulting Dr. Kitto's note in the Pictorial Bible, relative to this point, we have the following analysis of the opinions of the learned. Looking at the measure and the price, the writer says — " This (cab) was about half a pint for 12s. 6d. ■There has been much diversity of opinion about this ' dove's dung. ' Some of the Rabbins inform us that it was used for fuel, Josephus says that it Tvas purchased for its salt ; some think it means ■grain taken from the crops of pigeons, which of course could get out of the besieged town and feed in the open country; many believe that it was ■wanted for manure ; and Bochart, followed by most modei-n commentators, contends that the name, though literally dove's dung, means an article of vegetable food. As he observes, the Arabs give the name of dove's dung to a kind of moss that grows on trees and stony ground, and also to a sort of pidse or pea which appears to have been very common in Judea, and which may be the article here indicated. Large quantities of it are parched and dried, and stored in magazines at Cairo and Damascus. It is much used during journeys, and particularly by the great pilgrim caravans to Mecca ; and if the conjecture be cor- rect, it may be supposed to be among the provi- sions stored up in the besieged city, and sold at the extravagant price mentioned in the text. It is clear that if dove's dung be really intended it could not be used as an article of food, and then we are thrown upon its use as manure. This use ■is best exemplified in Persia, where it is highly valued for quickening the gi-owth and improving the quality of melons and other esculent vege- tables. These form such essential articles of food in some warm climates, that vast quantities are consumed, and in besieged towns persons who have been rather delicately brought up have been known to pine away and die for the want of such essential provision, even when corn was abundant. On this point Mr. Morier observes — ' The dung of doves is the dearest manure which the Persians use ; and as they apply it almost entirely to the rearing of melons, it is probably on that account that the melons of Ispahan are so much finer than those of other cities. The revenue of a pigeon- house is about a hundi-ed toraauns per annum ; and the great value of this dung, which rears a fruit that is indispensable to the existence of tiie natives during the great heats of summer, will probably throw some light on that passage of scripture where, in the famine of Samaria, the fourth part of a cab of dove's dung was sold for five pieces of silver.'" For ourselves, we lean to the opinion that the term dove's dung was the name of some vegetable food, perhaps a pulse, perhaps a moss or lichen (thus in English hound's-tongue, mare's-tail, colts- foot, bird's-nest, bird's-tongue, and mouse-ear, mouse-tail, &c., &c.), but on this point we will not be positive ; if the manure really be intended, we think that its use is clearly demonstrated. All must have noticed the gyratorial or wheel- ing flight of our domestic pigeons — we here allude to this the more expressly as on this peculiarity depends, in our opinion, the facility with which these birds, taken to a long distance from their homes, find their way back when released from their confinement. Remarkable notices of pigeon- flights occur from time to time in the public papers, and wagers are often made upon the return of pigeons to a certain spot within a given space of time. If the distance be within twenty or even thirty miles, no previous training or especial prac- tice is needed ; but not so where the distance is very great. This flight cainiot be compared to that of migration ; the pigeon is influenced by pure nostalgia, it seeks its " old accustomed home" with intense desire, and in this eifort it is aided by its mode of flight. The rationale of the pigeon's return home from a distance we take to be as follows. Pigeons fly in wide eiixles at a considerable elevation ; they note every tower or steeple, every wood, evei-y river, in fact every land- mark within the range of their acute vision. Consequently, if taken to some distance beyond those well-known marks, let them only once in the wide circles they make get sight of them, or of one of them, they know how to steer their course, they hasten to the way-mark, and thence, tower- ing aloft, descry their home. It is by sight that the pigeon makes these journeys, and it extends 577 its aerial circles in proportion to its distance from the known way-marks ; should these be obscured by a fog or clouds, the bird wanders at random, and perhaps never finds its way back. In order to perform long journeys, as from some town in France, Belgium, or Holland, to Dover or London, the birds require training; they are taken at intervals to places farther and farther remote from their home, and thus they become acquainted, from their elevation in the air, with a terrestrial expanse beneath them of vast extent. One or two well trained birds will serve as guide to a less practised flock, and lead them to their destination. We occasionally read in the public papers of several pigeons being let loose in Antwerp, or St. Omer, or some other town, destined to return to London within a given time for a wager, and the details as to the time of the arrival of the several birds are recorded. There is less mysteij in all this than may at first appear. The keenness of the pigeon's vision, its rapidity of flight, its enduring strength of wing, and its acquaintance with the way-marks beneath it, are sufficient to account for the performance of the exploit. When first turned off", the birds gyrate to a great altitude ; let one known way-mark be seen, it is sufficient — the direction is clear; other way-marks present themselves in succession, till at length the aerial traveller discerns its longed-for home — " Rndit iter liquidum, nee celeres commovet alas." We may now proceed to a brief notice of the principal varieties of our domestic pigeon, pre- mising that, from time to time, under the culture of experienced fanciers, others may originate with which we have no personal acquaintance. As we have just discussed the principles which to our mind clear up the difficulties relative to the return of a pigeon from great distances to its home, we shall commence with that variety, of oriental origin, which time immemorial has been employed as a messenger, carrying communications of importance or letters of confidence. 1. The Carrier or Horseman. — Fanciers of the present day in the neighbourhood of London apply the terms carrier and horseman to a very remarkable breed of pigeons which is sedulously cultivated. Whether, originally, any distinguishing character separated the carrier and the horse- man we cannot ascertain ; if such was the case they exist no longer, and the terms have become synonymous. The carrier is a splendid bird, remarkable for the elegance of its contom- ; it is of large size, and, if kept in training, of extraordinary powers of wing. The shoulders, when the wings are closed, are broad and strongly knit, the breast is full and muscular, the wings long and acute, with very rigid quill-feathers, and indeed the general plumage is close and compact; the neck is long and slender, the head narrow, and flat on the crown, and the eye animated. The colour of the iris varies ; in some it is of a fiery red, in others of a pinky pearl tint. The eye is surrounded by a rosette or rose-like circle of camnculated fungous skin of a white colour, which in adult birds is very conspicuous, and often rises above the level of the top of the head ; this rosette should be well and regularly formed, with the eyelids fairly opened and in the centre. In good birds it equals a shil- ling in diameter. The beak is long, measuring THE CARRIES PIO E by the gape, from an inch and a-quarter to an inch and a half — it should be strong and straight ; at the base of the upper mandible the soft pulpy skin is developed into a large white fungous excrescence, which advances boldly on the forehead, and spreads bi-oadly across the beak ; this protuberance should overtop the nairow flat skull, at least in adult birds, for in the young of the year both this pro- tuberance and the rosette are comparatively small, and always smaller in the female than in the male. The carrier is elongated in general shape, and carries itself gracefully. It varies in colour ; we have seen black, blue, dun, white, and blue and white breeds ; duns are in great estimation, and three or four pounds is not an uncommon price for a pair of perfect young birds. Though this variety is called the " carrier" par excellence, from its powers of wing and rapidity of flight, still any of the common breeds enjoying the faculty of swift flight may be, and are, used as carriers, and the practice of sending off pigeons, after races and other matches, bearing the name of the winner, is a very common but not al ways very creditable practice. Pigeons in fact are now principally used in our country as messengers from the race-course, the prize-ring, or the walking ground, in order to enable persons, on gaining the information they convey, to make 678 nefarious bets; we believe also that tbey traverse the channel with notices relative to stock-jobbing transactions, but we cannot say to what extent this mode of communication is carried on. We have read remonstrances on the subject, and occasionally, as we have heard, some of the un- conscious messengers have been shot. In the fine picture of the siege of Saragossa by the late Sir David Wilkie, we see a carrier pigeon in the hands of the assembled group, with a small letter or billet under jits wing. In this manner it is probable that the besieged held com- munication with their allies beyond the lines of the enemy. With reference to the use of this pigeon in ancient times, we may quote the following passage from the Penny Cyclopoedia : — " In one of his odes {fls TrfpiiTTepb.y) Anacreou has immortalized it as the bearer of epistles. Taurosthenes sent to his expectant father, who resided in iEgina, the glad tidings of his success in the Olympic games on the very day of his victory. Pliny (Nat. Hist. lib. X., 37) speaks of the communication kept up between Hirtius and Decimus Brutus at the siege of Mutina (Modena). What availed Anthony the trench and the watch of the besiegers — what availed the nets stretched across the river, while the messenger was cleaving the air. The Crusaders employed them, and Joinviile records an instance during the crusade of St. Louis. Tasso [Gieru- salemme Liberata) sings of one that was attacked by a falcon and defended by Godfrey ; it had a letter attached to its neck, which Godfrey of course reads, and is put in possession of all the secrets. In the same way Ariosto makes the Castellan di Damiata spread the news of Orrilo's death all over Egypt. Sir John Maundeville, knight, warrior, and pilgrim, who penetrated to the border of China, in the reigns of our Second and Third Edward, thus writes : — ' In that contree and other contrees bezonde, thei han a custom, whan thei schulle usen werre, and whan men holde sege abouten cytee or castelle, and thei withinnin dur not senden out messagere fro lord to lord, for to aske sokour, thei maken here letters and bynden them to the necke of a Colver, and letten the Colver flee ; and the Colveren ben so taughte that they fleen with the letters to the very place that men wolde sonde hem to. For the Coheres ben norysscht in the places where thei ben sent to ; and they senden them thus for to beren here letters. And as the Colveres retournen azen where as thei ben norisscht, and so they don comounly.'" The pigeon continued in use in the East as an important messenger till within a very recent period, nor perhaps is its employment in some countries altogether obsolete. Dr. Russell, speak- ing of the carrier, says — "This j^igeon in former times was employed by the English fiictory to convey intelligence from Scanderoon of the arrival of the Company's ships in that port. The name of the ship, the hour of her arrival, and whatever else could be comprised in a small compass, being written on a slip of paper, was secured in such a manner under the pigeon's wing as not to impede its flight ; and her feet were bathed in vinegar with a view to keep them cool and prevent her being tempted by the sight of water to alight, by which the journey might have been prolonged, or the billet lost. The practice has been in disuse many years, but I have heard it asserted by an English gentleman, in whose time it still subsisted, that he has known pigeons perform the journey (to Aleppo) in two hours and a half.* The mes- senger had a young brood at Aleppo, and was sent down in an uncovered cage to Scanderoon, from which place, when set at liberty, she returned with all expedition to her nest. It was usual at the season of the arrival of the annual ships to send pigeons to be ready at the port, and, by all accounts, if the bird remained absent above a fortnight she was apt to forget her young, and therefore not fit to be trusted. Upon inquiring into the manner of training the pigeon for this service, I was told by some that she was at once sent down to Scanderoon in a cage ; but I am rather inclined to believe what was affirmed by others, that she was taught by degrees to fly from shorter distances on the Scanderoon road. The editor was informed that the pigeons when let fly fi-om Scanderoon, instead of bending their course to the high mountains surrounding the plain, mounted at once directly, soaring almost pei-pendicularly till out of sight, as if to surmount at once the obstacles inter- cepting the view of their place of destination." We have heard and read extraordinary in stances of the rapidity of flight of the carrier pigeon ; but from what we have ourselves ob- served (and we have kept these birds and tested their powers), we should say that their average speed did not much exceed a mile a minute. No doubt that with the wind decidedly in their favour their progress is far more rapid, and much, of course, will depend upon their training, their con- dition, and their eagerness to reach home. We have read, for example, of two carriers taken from Cologne to Paris, and there freed from captivity precisely at eleven in the morning, reaching their home, one at five minutes past one o'clock (the same day), the other at fourteen minutes past one, thus performing their journey nearly at the rate of a hundred and fifty miles per hour. — (Antoine Animaux CeUhres, ii., 121). This is terrible velocity ; but can we depend on such marvellous narratives? According to the observations of * The distance is a'lout 53 miles. 579 Audubon, the passenger-pigeon of America flies at the rate of about a mile a minute — that is, in performing its journey from its distant feeding grounds to its wonted roosting-place. When alaiTned, it can exert greater speed ; and, no doubt, the carrier can do the same, but not, we suspect, for a great length of time. We are apt to be deceived in calculating the rapidity of the flight of birds by watclung them in their course through the air. Smail bodies quickly passing by, and at some elevation, their velocity seems greater than it is, and it is seldom that it can be accurately tested — at least, in the case of birds. It is probable that the carrier has degenerated in this country ; for formerly a distinction appears to have been made by fanciers between this pigeon and the horseman, the latter being a smaller and lighter bird, with less development of the wattles and rosette. Perhaps the two breeds are inter- blended, and so are called by each title indis- criminately. 2. The Dragon, or DKAaooN. — This variety results from a cross between the preceding and some of the ordinary breeds. In general appear- ance it approximates to the carrier, but is inferior in size, less robustly formed about the shoulders, and with the caruncles or iiattles and the rosette more circumsciibed. Like the horseman, this variety has been employed in carrying written messages, and indeed is far more generally used by those who attend races, Ac, than the former, ■wliich is too valuable for its owner to run the risk of losing. The flight of the dragon is very impetuous, and hence perhaps its name. We have known dragons imposed by dealers as horse- men or carriers upon these who were not versed in fancy lore. 3. The Barb. — This pigeon, formerly very much admired by fanciers, and still not without its advocates, appears, if we may rely on its name, to have originated in some part of Northern Africa. It is a bird of delicate temperament, and not adapted for long or rapid flight. It is fitted ex- clusively for the pigeon aviary ; indeed, we do not remember to have ever seen it at large. Its plumage is mostly black, sometimes (but rarely) dun ; the beak is short and stout, with a small carunculated wattle at the base ; a broad naked circle or rosette of scarlet spongy skin surrounds the eye ; the back of the head is mottled, orna- mented by a short crest of curled or upturned feathers. The barb is not a common variety, and is, perhaps, scarcer than it was some years since. 4. The Pouter. — AH pigeons, as is well known, have the capability of inflating their crop with air ; and a fine pigeon, with breast feathers glossed with metallic tints, strutting and bowing with inflated crop around his mate, presents no uninteresting spectacle ; but this remark will not apply to the pouter, and we wonder that this variety should have received so much attention from fanciers. There is nothing pleasing in its appearance or graceful in its proportions ; indeed, the inflation of the voluminous crop, rendering an erect, stiff, and apparently constrained attitude necessary, gives an aspect of distortion, or of a want of a due balance of parts. The pouter is of large size, often measuring eighteen inches in length from the tip of the beak to the end of the tail. The chest is not really voluminous, though it appears enormous when the crop is distended with air ; the back is concave, and the tail ample ; the tarsi are very long, and covered with downy feathers. These pigeons are of various colours, as blue, rufous, pied, or altogether white. Those birds which are tall, erect, with a very ample crop, and with the colours of the plumage regularly disposed, and according to certain fancy rules, are esteemed the most valuable. The pouter is formed by a cross between the dragon and the old Dutch cropper, which latter bird, except in the develop- ment of the crop (whence its name), had nothing to recommend it. From this intermixture, not with- out much care and expense, has resulted this favourite variety. The flight of the pouter is buoyant, but not rapid, nor capable of being long sustained. As varieties of the pouter, or rather as breeds allied to it, may be mentioned the ttploper and the Parisian pouter, said to be a beau- tifully marked bird ; but with these we have no personal acquaintance. 6. The Fan-tail, or Broad-tailed Shaker. — • This is a very singular variety, by many much ad- mired. It is a small pigeon, with a preternatural development of the caudal feathers, both as to number and size. These feathers amount usually to about sixteen, but in extraordinary birds even to twenty-six (the normal number in the pigeon being twelve). These feathers, moreover, are elevated, and form two parallel planes, not unlike those of the common hen, but larger in proportion. The neck is long, and singularly slender, and is sur- mounted by a small head with a short beak. This bird has the habit of throwing back the "head till it almost, if not quite, touches the tail feathers ; the chest is thrown forwards, the wings droop, and the neck vibrates with a strong quivering motion. This is the attitude of courtship. The best fa7i-tails, we believe, are of a pure white; pied birds are in less estimation. As might be presumed, the powers of flight in this variety are very limited. It is exclusively a fancy bird. Some persons discriminate a variety which they call the narrow-tailed shaker, but this is only a degenerate breed of the fantail, or the result of a cross. 6. The Jacobine, or Capper. — This is an elegant little sort of fancy pigeon in considerable ■S8G esteem. Its principal characteristic consists in the elongation and silky loose texture of the feathers of the back and sides of the neck, -which are brought fonvard in such a manner as to form a sort of hood over the head, and extend in a double frill down the chest, producing a very pleasing appearance. The head is small, with a short beak, and a pear-coloured iris. The jacobine varies in colour. Those of a fawn yellow are generally preferred. Flight indifferent. We may here notice two varieties called the capuchin and the ruff. These, in general charac- ters, approximate to the jacobine, but have less luxuriance of the plumage of the neck and chest. 7. The TuRBiT. — The upper part of the chest of this pretty little fancy pigeon is ornamented with a tuft of feathers, which opens both ways and laterally with a curl. The head is small, and the beak short; in colour this bird is subject to variety, but generally has the quills, tail, and under parts white. A variety closely resembling the turbit is called the oui, from the form of its beak, which is short, thick, and hooked. It has a pectoral frill of cm-led feathers. 8. The Nun. — Many persons greatly admire this elegant pigeon, which is indeed amongst the prettiest of our varieties. The head, quills, and tail are black (sometimes fawn yellow, rarely blue), while the rest of the plumage is snowy white. On the top of the black head is a tuft of soft loose ■white feathers, which, forming a snowy hood, in conjunction perhaps with the contrast of black and white, has led to the name by which this variety is known. There is a variety of mm, termed the helmet, from the disposition of the feathers which form the crest ; instead of resembling a full hood, the crest rises in something of the shape of a helmet. 9. The Trumpeter. — It is from the peculiar loudness and harshness of its cooing notes that this variety has received its name. Its colour varies, but the tarsi are feathered to the toes, the back of the head is crested, and a tuft springs from the base of the beak over the forehead. We do not remember to have seen any genuine fancy birds of this variety, but the truth is that among all fancy pigeons changes are gradually taking place ; varieties once highly prized, and selling for large sums with ready purchasers, are now neglected and passing away; we think more- over that pigeon fancying altogether is on the decline, and if our suspicions be correct, the causes are too obvious to require much seeking for. This change may be perhaps in itself of no moment, but trifles in human sociey are often the indicia of circumstances or affairs of importance. Pigeon fancying is one of the innocent amusements of persons of the great middle classes, and of those of superior grade in the so-called lower ; it is a natural amusement, and also interesting, but it is not unattended by some degree of expense. 10. The Tumbler. — This variety of pigeon needs not any description ; it is everywhere com- mon, and is kept in abundance in simple aviaries on many of the house-tops, even in the denser parts of the metropolis; flocks of them, especially in clear mornings, are turned out in order to exercise themselves for an hour or two, in their circling flight and aerial gambols. There are several varieties of these birds, as haldheads, which have the head white, and bearded tumblers, either blue or black, with a white moustache or stripe extending from tlie base of the lower mandible along the sides of the throat. The flight of a flock of tumblers very interesting ; the birds keep in compact array as they wheel around, every now and then making backward somersets, turning completely round in the air, which for a moment checks their flight, when recovering their wings they again pursue their course. On descending from their elevation and preparing to alight, these somersets are repeated in frequent succession before they gain their feet ; but whether from mere playfulness, or because they cannot help it, we could never satis- factorily determine. The bird is light, vigorous, and capable of long continuance in the air without the slightest fatigue. In the tumbler the figure is compact, the chest broad, the neck rather slen- der, the head small and round, the beak short and spine-shaped, the iris of a clear pear-colour. 11. The Almond Tumbler. — In size this once prized fancy-bird is very small, and delicately framed. It is derived by the breeder's art from the stock of the common tumbler, but is not a bird of much power of flight, being rather fitted for the aviary than for the ordinary pigeon-house ; its head is round and small, its beak veiy short and spine-shaped ; its iris pear-colour. The tints of its plumage are beautiful but varied ; yellow, black, white, brown, and gray, more or less of these colours being intermingled and blended so as to produce a very pleasing effect. Formerly birds of this kind, perfect as to the required dis- tribution of colour, sold for considerable sums ; but they are now, we believe, less valuable. Sir John Sebright's breed of Almond tumblers was some yeai-s since perhaps the first in England. To the varieties already enumerated we might add several others, as the spot, the lace, the Jin- nikin, and the Friezland runt, with reversed feathers ; but these breeds are not common, nor are they held of much account. As for such birds as the French runt, tlie Leghorn runt, the Spa.nish runt, &c., they are not to be placed among the fancy varieties, being remarkable merely for size; they are dove-house pigeons. r.8i Domestic pigeons ai'e fed on horse beans, gray- peas, barley, and other grain ; they require plenty of fresh water, and love to bathe — cleanliness is imperative ; their breeding-boxes should be fre- quently cleaned out and lime-whited, as should also the aviary in which they are kept, and its floor swept and sanded. Pigeons are extremely partial to salt and old mortar, and will pick the latter from between the earthen tiles forming the roofs of houses. Many fanciers make a composi- tion of salt, mortar, a little clay, and spicy seeds, as caraway; placed so as to be accessible to the birds : and compositions of a similar nature are used by some in a dishonest way, as an allurement to entice stray birds, or those of their neighbours, to enter into their traps. CHAPTER VI. GENERAL HISTORY OK THE NATATORIAL ORDER (NATATORES), AND OF THE DOMESTIC SPECIES RECLAIMED FROM IT. The natatorial order {ordo anseres, Linn.) affoi-ds to man reclaimed species wliich may vie in point of intrinsic value with those which he has selected from the gallinaceous order. From the latter we obtain the fowl, the peafowl, the turkey, the guinea- fowl, setting aside game, as the pheasant, partridge, grouse, black-cock, capercailie. ptarmigan, &c., &c., which we cannot regard as belonging to domes- ticated stocks, though the pheasant takes up a debateable ground. The natatorial order gives us the duck, the musk-duck, the goose, the Chinese goose, the Canada goose, the Egyptian goose, and we may add the swan, as reclaimed species, while, as a counterbalance to pheasants and partridges, &c., we may enumerate the wild duck, the pochard, the shoveller, the gadwall, the pintail, the teal, and others, all excellent for the table, and testing, even more than grouse, the skill, nerve, and endurance of the sportsman. On this point Colonel Hawker may be referred to. Like most other orders, the order natatores is divided into families, and these again into minor sections or subfamilies ; but into these details we shall not enter, we shall only observe that the so- called families AnutidcB, Cohjmhida, Alcada, Pele- carmlce, and Laridce, are those into which this order is divided. The order is not natural (excepting in generalities such as would link the eagle and the crow and the thrush together), and its families are in themselves orders. We acknow- ledge that, in the present pages, disquisitions on such subjects will be out of place. Let, however, the reader compare together the duck and the man-of-war bird (tachypetes), and the petrel and the penguin. We may as reasonably put the curlew and the hawk, the swallow and the apteryx, into the same order.* " Philosophia abest." * The science of ornithology does not advance pari passu with the discoveries of raullitudinoiis species before unknown. It is true that genera and subgenera are made (not established) ad infinitum, and on such points that not one genus can be recognised by the description. There are, in fact, almost as many genera as species. This is lamentable — ornilhology wants rv-casting. VOL. II. To enter into a general outline of the characters of the order natatores, as it at present stands, is here out of the question. To the so-called family ana- tidce, or duck-tribe, our attention must be solely directed. Throwing overboard the subdivisions of this family, based on fluctuating theories, proposed by various ornithologists, we may state that it embraces the ducks, the swans, the geese, and the merg- ansers. To this section belong certain qualities in common. The species are all more or less aquatic in their habits, are long-necked, and have a boat- shaped body, covered with large, well compacted, and nicely arranged waterproof feathers, concealing an under-vest of fine close down. The wings are moderate and acute, with rigid quill feathers ; it is not, however, until the birds mount to a great elevation that their flight becomes easy, but this altitude attained, they are strong on their pinions. They fly in order, with a leader, changed from time to time ; sometimes the aerial troop is marshalled in Indian file, this is suddenly ex- changed for two lines en triangle— xhaX is, forming the two lines of a triangle without the base line — the leader being at the apex ; sometimes they form solid masses of serried columns, but, except when suddenly aroused by the gunner from their slumbers on the water, they generally assume a definite figure in flight, and especially during their long migratory journeys, uttering, as they fly far above head, their wild sonorous cry. Occasionally single birds as pioneers advance before the troops, or others as rear-guards follow the squadron. To one of these lonely birds, on its migration to the desolate regions within the polar circle, Bryant addresses some exquisite lines, which, were they not generally known, might be quoted with propriety. On the ground, the anatidm are awkward and waddling, their legs are short and placed consider- ably backward, so that the fore-part of the body L L o8'< preponderates, and the webbed or oar-formed toes are destitute of elasticity. Some species, however, are much more fitted for terrestial habits than others, as the Cereopsis goose of Australia, a bird which might be easily naturalized, and is valuable for the sake of its flesh. Some are semi-arboreal, roosting on the branches of trees, and rearing their young in nests built either in the holes of trees, or on the forks of the larger branches. As an example, we may allude to the beautiful summer duck of America [Dendronessa sponsa). This bird rears her young in the holes of trees, generally overhanging the water. When strong enough, the young " scramble to the mouth of the hole, launch into the air with their little wings and feet spread out, and drop into their favourite element; but whenever their birthplace is at some distance from it, the mother carries them to it, one by one, in her bill, holding them so as not to injure their yet tender frame. On several occasions, however, when the hole was thirty, forty, or more yards fiom a bayou or other piece of water, I observed that the mother suffei'ed the young to fall on the grasses and dried leaves beneath the tree, and afterwards led them directly to the nearest edge of the next pool or creek." — Aiiditbo7i. In the m^atida the bill is large, more or less depressed, broad, and covered with a sensitive coriaceous membrane, the upper mandible is furnished at the tip with a hard nail or dertntm, the edges of each mandible internally are laminated, or furnished with close-set transverse lamellae, which are more developed in some species than others. In the shoveller duck, for example, this lamination is highly developed, and presents the appearance in both mandibles of a fine pectinated or comb-like appendage, accompanied with great dilatation and depression of the front part of the bill, which is spatulate in form and outline. This pectination acts as a strainer, while the bill, freely supplied by branches of the fifth pair of nerves, is engaged in probing and testing the mud in seai-ch of food. Thus the beak is at once a feeler, a strainer, and an organ of prehension. In accor- dance with the structure and sensibility of the beak is the tongue modified. It is also a sensitive organ, and, instead of being slender and horny, is large and fleshy, and furnished on its edges and other parts with fimbriations or appendages. The tongue co-operates with the mandibles in the discrimination and appropriation of food. The peculiar action of the mandibles of the duck while probing the mud for food cannot have escaped observation. Yet the ducks exhibit different modes of feeding, to say nothing of different partialities according to the species. Mr. Skelton, the intelligent keeper of a decoy in Lincolnshire, supplied Dr. Richardson with the following information : — " The mallard, pintail, and teal frequent rich flooded lands, suittering with their nebs in the soil, and sucking out its strength ; but the widgeon feeds quite differently, being an amazing fowl to graze, a strange eater of grass." " It is especially fond of flutter-grass {ghjceria aquatica vel fluitans). which it crops on the surface of the water, but it likewise eats many other herbs. When the decoy has been so full of widgeons that they have devoured every blade on the landings, Skelton has taken advantage of their absence in the night, when they resort to the green salt-marshes on the sea-coast, and laid down sods pared from the fields, on which they readily graze. In common, however, with the mallard, teal, and pintail, they are fond of willow- weed seeds {epilobium), with which he feeds all the fowl in his decoy, as they prefer it to oats and every other kind of grain." In the Fauna Boreali- Americana, Mr. Waterton states that the widgeon feeds by day, eating grass like a goose, while its congener, the mallard or wild duck, invariably refuses this food, and seeks for its sustenance by night. In all the anatidce the gizzard is peculiarly strong and muscular, but amazingly so in the tribe or section of diving ducks, such as the eider, the golden-eye, and others, which feed chiefly on shell- fish, which they obtain by diving into the sea, or about the mouths of rivers. The shells ai-e ground and crushed to fragments by the action of the powerful gizzard. None of the diving ducks are domesticated. We may here observe that the ribs in the anatidce in general, but especially in the diving ducks and such as are most aquatic, are carried out to a great extent posteriorly, so as to protect the abdominal viscera from the pressure of the water during the submersion of the body. Most of the birds of this family present some- thing peculiar in the constiuction of the trachea. In some species the trachea is singularly convo- luted, as in many of the swans ; in others there is at the lower part of the trachea, just within the 583 cTiest (in the male"), an osseous drum or iitZ/rt, which influences the tones of the voice. The family anatldce is resolvable into the following sections: — 1. The True Ducks [Ana- tince), with the hind toe non-lobated ; 2. The Diving Ducks (Fuligulina), with the hind toe lobated; 3. The Swans (C(/;/«t»«) ; 4. The Geese (Aitsenuce); 5. The Mergansers (MerganincB), birds essentially aquatic, with oar-like toes, and legs compressed and placed as far backwards as possible. With the diving ducks and mergansers we have no present concern. SUBFAMILY ANATIN.E, DUCKS. Mr. Yarrell (in Linn. Trans., vol. xv., p. 378) makes the following excellent observaeions on this group or subfamily : — " The first division of the true ducks will contain the shiel-duck, the Muscovy (musk) duck, the gadwall, shoveller, pintail, widgeon, bima- culated duck, gargany, teal, &c , all of which will be found to have the following characters in common : — Externally they exhibit considerable length of neck ; the wings are also long, reaching to the end of the tail ; the tarsi somewhat round ; the hind-toe free, having no pendent lobe. In habits they may be stated generally as frequenting fresh water, but passing much of their time on land, feeding in ditches and about the shallow edges of pools on aquatic plants, insects, worms, and occasionally fish, taking their food at or near the surface, possessing great powers of flight, but seldom diving unless pursued. Of their internal soft parts, the stomach is in the greatest degree muscular, forming a true gizzard; the intestines long ; the csecal appendages from six to nine inches in length in the larger birds, and decreas- ing only in proportion to the size of the species. Of the bones, it may be observed that the ribs are (comparatively) short, extending but little beyond the line of the posterior edge of the sternum ; the keel of the breast-bone deep, affording great ex- tent of surface for the insertion of large and powerful pectoral muscles. The osseous enlarge- ment (or drum) at the bottom of the trachea is in all of them composed of one bone only. The wild duck may be considered the type of this division." To this summary we may add, that in all the genera the beak is modelled on the same plan, while at the same time it exhibits certain minor variations of form, in accordance with the peculiar food upon which the species subsist. Thus in the grass-feeding widgeon it is more like that of the goose (a cropper of herbage) than that of the common duck or the shoveller. A few examples of the principal modifications in the form of the bill in the muUince may here be given with pro- priety. Some of our readers, we are sure, will feel interested in the subject. 1. Genus Spathulea, Fleming (Rhynchapsis, Shaw; Anas, Swainson). Example, the Shovel- ler {Spathulea dypeata). Locality, Asia, Europe, and North America. The form occurs in Aus- tralia. BILL OF SHOVELLER. The bill is remarkable for its breadth ante- riorly, its depression, its flexibility, and the fine and long lamination of the edges of the mandibles. The upper mandible overlaps the lower, and par tially conceals it. Dertrum small and hooked. This form of bill (and that of others similar in structure) is adapted for " swittering" in the ooze, and " sucking out its strength." 2. Genus Malacorhynchm — a genus of broad and soft-billed ducks peculiar to the southern tLACORHTNCHUS. hemisphere. The breadth of the bill and the length of the laminae are nearly the same, but the edge of the upper mandible is furnished with a thin membranous and sensitive skin, which pro- jects considerably, and hangs down on each side. Dertrum small and hooked. 3. Genus Chauliodus (Chaulelasmns, G. R. Gray). Example, the Gadwall [Chauliodus stre- pera, Swainson). Bill of nearly equal breadth, but slightly broader towards the tip than at the base. Laminae numerous, fine, and distinct. Locality, Asia, Europe, North America. I. l2 584 •t. Gemis Dqfila, Leech. Example, the Pin- tail Duck [Dajiia caudacuta). The bill in this BILL OF FINTAIt genus is a little broader towards the tip than at the base. It is furnished -with small laminte almost concealed by the edge of the upper man- dible. Locality — the pintail is common to Europe, Asia, and North America. The flesh of this species, called, from the form of the tail and the elongation of the two middle feathers, the sea- pheasant, is of very superior quality. It is a regular winter visitant to our island, and is cap- tured in considerable abundance in the decoys of Lincolnshire, Norfolk, &c. 5. Genus Querquedida, Stephens. Example, the Teal {Querquedula crecca). The bill in this BILL op TEAL. beautiful bird is somewhat ovate, being widest near the centre. The lamina; are small. The dertrum moderately hooked. The American teal is regarded by Bonaparte as distinct from the Old Woi'ld species. 6. Genus Anas, Linn, and Selby (gen. Bos- chas. Swainson). Example, the Wild Duck, or Mallard {Anas boschas). Bill depressed and ILL OF MALLAED. broad ; rather wider towards the tip than at the base. Mandibles toothed rather than lamellated — that is, dentato-laminate. Dertrum convex, but not fairly hooked. 7. Genus Mareca. Example, the Widgeon (Mareca Penelope, Selby). Bill high at the base, and strong ; length moderate, or rather short, narrower and more contracted towards the tip. Dertrum convex and stout. Laminfe broad, and set wide apart. We have here an approximation in the form of the bill to that of the goose ; and, as we have already said, the widgeon is a grass- grazer. An allied species in America represents that common to Europe and Asia. 585 BILL OF WIUGEON. 8. Genus Dendronessa. Example, the Sum- mer Duck (Dendronessa sponsa). Bill very high at the base, narrowing towards the top, with nostrils placed almost centrically in the upfier mandible. Laminaj broad and wide apart. The summer duck is a native of America, where it is migratory. An allied species, the Chinese teal, is a native of China and the surrounding border countries. Habits arboreal. Both these species breed freely in our aviaries. Having thus entered somewhat more explicitly than is generally done in works of the present nature (which, indeed, are seldom attempted by professed naturalists) into the characters of the anatince or true ducks, we shall now advert to the domestic species of this group, of which two only have been reclaimed The Common Duck (Anas boschas, Linn). — It is from the common wild duck or mallard {Le Canard Sauvage of Buffon) that the domestic duck is derived, although we know nothing of the circumstances how, or the time when, the domes- tication of our tame race was effected. One thing, however, is veiy cei'tain — the wild breed and the tame will freely intermix, and the progeny partake rather more decidedly of the habits and manners of the former than of the latter. Tliere are indeed many paints, irrespective of colour (which is, of course, variable in our domestic breeds), in which the tame and the wild duck differ. The tame duck is polygamous, but the wild duck mates ; and here a slight sketch of the habits and manners of this species may be adviseable. WILD DOCK OR MALLARD. The wild duck is very widely distributed throughout the temperate and colder latitudes both of the old and new world. Generally speak- ing it is migratory in its habits, the vast flocks which visit the south in winter retiring on the approach of spring to their high northern breeding places. In our island the species is indigenous, and although drainage and the cultivation of bog- lands have rendered it far more scarce than formerly, still it is to be found wherever suitable retreats afford it a congenial asylum. Few sheets of water in parks are destitute of their home-bred wild ducks, and it still tenants the borders of our lakes and rivers in secluded localities. So abun- dant was the wild duck formerly in our fenny districts, that, according to the authority of Pen- nant, at a single driving in the fens of Lincoln- shire, before the young had taken wing, and when the old birds were in the moult, one hundred and fifty dozens have been taken. Mr. Selby observes that, in the same district at the present day, there are not reared more than a dozen broods annually. Scanty, however, as our native flocks may be, their numbers are augmented by winter arrivals from the north, and of these thousands are taken in decoys, or fall before the withering fire of the wild-fowl shooter. Innumerable multi- tudes visit Holland, Belgium, and the marshy districts of France, whence, during the latter pait of autumn and through the winter, thousands are sent to the London markets. This wholesal{9 destruction of the wild duck, so valued for the flavour and delicacy of its flesh, is not confined to Europe. Wilson, in his American Ornithology, gives the following details : — " On some ponds frequented by these birds, five or six wooden figures, cut and painted so as to represent ducks, and sunk by pieces of lead nailed on the bottom, so as to float at the usuid 58G depth on the surface, are anchored in a favourahle position for being raked fiom a concealment of brush, &c., on shore. The appearance of these usually attracts passing flocks, -which alight, and are shot down. Sometimes eight or ten of these ■wooden ducks are fixed on a frame in various swimnmig postures, and secured to the bow of the gunner's skiff, projecting before it in such a manner that the weight of the frame sinks the figures to their proj^er depth ; the skiff is tlien dressed with sedge or coarse grass, in an artful manner, as low as the Avater's edge, and under cover of this, which appears like a party of ducks swimming by a small island, the gunner floats down, sometimes to the skirts of a whole multi- tude, and pours in a repeated and destructive fire of shot among them. In winter, when detached pieces of ice are occasionally floating in the river, some of the gunners on the Delaware paint their whole skiff or canoe white, and laying themselves flat at the bottom, with their hand over the side, silently managing a small paddle, direct it into or near a flock before the ducks have distinguished it from a floating mass of ice, and generally do great execution among them. On land another stratagem is sometimes practised with great suc- cess. A large tight hogshead is sunk in the flat marsh or mud, near the place where the ducks are accustomed to feed at low water, and where otherwise there is no shelter. The edges and top are artfully concealed with tufts of long coarse grass and reeds or sedge. From within this the gunner, unseen and unsuspected, watches his collecting prey, and, when a sufiicient number offers, sweeps them down with great effect. The mode of catching wild ducks, as practised in India (Naval Chronicle, vol. ii., p. 473), China (Du Halde, Hist, of China, vol. ii., p. 142), the island of Ceylon, and some parts of South America (Ulloa's Voyage, vol. i., p. 58), has been often described, and seems, if reliance may be placed on those accounts, only practicable in water of a certain depth. The sportsman, covering his head with a hollow wooden vessel or calabash, jjierced with holes to see through, wades into the water, keeping his head only above, and, thus disguised, moves in among the flocks, which take the appear- ance to be a mere floating calabash, wliile, sud- denly pulling them under by the legs, he fastens them to his girdle, and thus takes as many as he can conveniently stow away, without in the least alarming the rest. They are also taken with snares made of horses' hair, or with hooks baited with small pieces of sheep's lights, which, floating on the surface, are swallowed by them." For an account of shooting from a Imt, as practised in France, we refer our reader to Colonel Hawker's Instructions to Young Sportsmeji. No mode, however, of taking wild ducks equals that of the decoy, as it is managed in Lincolnshire and some of our fenny counties. The following is a brief description of this really scientific mode of operation, into the minutiae of which it is impossible to enter; the main details, however, may be given. In the lakes, marshes, or fens to Avhich the wild ducks resort, their most favourite haunts are maikcd by observant eyes. In the most se- questered jiart of one of these haunts a ditch is cut, which is about four yards across at the entrance, decreasing gradually in width to the farther extremity, which is not more than two feet wide. This ditch is of a semicircular foim, but does not bend much for the first ten yards. The banks of the lake or sheet of water on each side of this ditch, or pij)e as it is called, are kept cleai' from reeds, coarse herbage, &c., in order that the wild-fowl may make them a lesting-place, on which to luxuriate and dress their plumage. Along the ditch, poles are driven into the ground on each side, close to its edge, and the tops of these poles are bent over across the ditch and tied together; thus they form at the entrance of the ditch, or jJil^e, an arch rising about ten feet from the surface of the water ; but this arch, or rather succession of arches, is made to decrease in height, as the pipe decieases in width, till, at the extremity of the ditch or pipe, the elevation is not more than eighteen inches. The poles are placed about six feet from each other, and are connected and secured by others laid lengthwise, and bound tight. Over the whole of this fiame-work a net is thrown, which is made fast to a reed fence at the entrance, extending nine or ten yards up the ditch ; beyond this it is pegged strongly to the ground. At the end of -the pipe farthest from the entrance, a tunnel-net is fixed ; this is about four yards in length, cylindrical in figure, and kept open by hoops of about eighteen inches in diameter placed at small distances from each other, forming a frame- work. Kow supposing the semicircular bend of the jdpe to be to the right as a person stands with his back to the lake, then on the left-hand side a num- ber of reed screens or fences are constructed (called shootings), for the purpose of shielding the decoy- man from observation, in order that the fowl entering the decoy may not be alarmed while h^ is driving those that are in the pipe. These shootings are ten in number, about four yards in length and six feet high. From the end of the last sliocting a person cannot see the lake, owing to the bend of the pipe, and there is then no farther occasion for concealment. Were it not for these shootings, the fowl that remain about the mouth of the jripe would be alarmed if the person driving those already under the net, should be exposed, and would become so shy as at once to forsake the place. 687. The first thing the decoy-man does when he approaches the jnjie, is to take a piece of lighted turf or peat and hold it near his mouth, to prevent the birds from smelling him. He is attended by a dog, trained for the purpose of rendering him assistance. He walks very silently about half-way up the shootings, peeping through an aperture made by a wooden peg, in the reed fence, to see if any birds are in the decoy ; if not, he walks for- ward to see if any are about the entrance of the 2npe. If wild-fowl are there, he stops, beckons to his dog, gives him a piece of cheese or something else to eat, by way of encouragement, whereupon the animal goes directly through a hole in the reed fence, and alarms the birds, taking their siesta on the bank, from which they at once plunge into the water. The dog returns along the bank between the reed fences, and regains his master. After further encouragement the sagacious animal repeats his rounds, until the birds are attracted hy his motions and follow him into the mouth of the pipe. This operation is called working them, i The man now retreats farther back, working the dog at different holes, until the ducks are suffi- ciently under the net. He then commands his dog to lie dowu behind the fence, and going him- self forward to the end of the pipe next the lake, he takes off his hat and gives it a wave between the shooting. All the birds that are nnder the net can then see him, but none that are in the lake can. The former fly forward, and the man then runs to the next shooting and waves his hat, and so on, driving them along until they come to the tunnel-net, into which they creep. When they are all in the man gives the net a twist, so as to prevent them from getting back, he then re- moves the net off from the end of the py)e, and taking out, one by one, the ducks that are in it, dislocates their necks. The tunnel-net is after- wards affixed again, for the repetition of the process, and in this manner five or six dozen have sometimes have been taken at one drift. When the ^\■inA blows directly iit or out of the pipes, the fowl seldom work well, especially when it blows into the pipe. The reason of this is, that the ducks always prefer swimming against the wind, otherwise the wind, blowing from behind, catches and rufiles their feathers. If many jnpes are made in the same lake, they are so constructed as to suit different winds, and are worked accordingly. The better to entice the fowl into the pipe, hemp-seed is occasionally strewn on the water. The season allowed by act of parliament for taking ducks in this way, is from the latter end of October until Februaiy. Willughby states that formerly, before the young ducks took flight, or while the old ones were in moult and unable to fly, they were driven by men in boats, furnished with long poles with which they splashed the water, between' long nets stretched vertically across the pools in the shape of two sides of a triangle, into lesser nets placed at the point, and in this way he says that 4,000 were taken at one drive in Deeping fen ; and Latham has recorded an instance in which 2,646 were taken in two days, near Spalding in Lincoln- shire ; but these practices being considered inju- rious, were prohibited by statute in the reign of George the Second. Tame ducks are in many instances used for the purpose of leading the way into the pipe. Hence the term decoy-duck. These birds are fed on the pond, are made quite tame and familiar, j and come to the keeper's whistle to eat the hemp- seed which he strews on the pond. They generally I lead the way into the pipe when whistled to. As they are used to the sight of the keeper, they [ do not rush forward with the wild birds into I the tunnel-net, but return back again, safe, into the pond ; should any of them, however, enter with the wild ducks into the tunnel-net, they are easily distinguished by the keeper, who well knows them, and are set at liberty to continue their practice. Domestication has modified the habits of the tame duck. In a state of nature, for example, the duck pairs with a single mate; the pairing time is about the end of February or early in March, and the two continue associated together until the female begins to sit. At this juncture the male deserts her, and joins others of his own sex similarly circumstanced, forming small flocks, which may be seen, at the latter part of May and in June, without a female auiongst them. At this time, moreover, the male begins to lose his rich attire, assuming in a great measure the colours of the female, winch he retains until the general or autumnal moult gives him new livery. The tame duck is polygamous, nor does the drake un- dergo so decided a change of plumage; his colours may become duller till the autumnal moult renews their beauty, but this is all. The wild duck makes a nest of withered herbage in some dij and secluded spot amidst the marshes, under the covert of a bush, a thick tuft of rushes, or intertangled vegetation, and lays from ten to fourteen bluish white eggs. Strange spots, however, are sometimes chosen as the site of the nest. Many instances are on record of the nest being built on the fork of a large tree; we have known it situated on the top of an old willow pollard, and Mr. Selby knew an instance in which, near his own residence, a wild duck laid her eggs in the deserted nest of a crow, at least thirty feet from the ground. In these instances, as Mr. Selby suggests, the young are carried to the ground in the bill of the parent, a mode of conveyance, he says, " known to be frequently adopted by the 588 eider duck." Like the lapwing and the part- ridge, and many other birds, the wild duck has recourse to artifice in order to draw an intruder from her nest, or from her brood of young con- cealed in some brake or jungle of rushes. She pretends lameness, flies with apparent difficulty a few feet before the intruder, as if unable to escape if he vigorously pursue, and thus she leads him about until he is far from her nest, when up she springs, to his utter astonishment. This care is even bestowed on the eggs; the wild duck never leaves her nest without covering it with down and dried grass, so as to screen them most effectually from the sight of crows, ravens, and other marauders. The drake or mallard has a large osseous bulla or drum, at the lower extremity of the trachea, which is equal in its diameter throughout. The plumage of the wild duck, male and female, is too well known to need description. From the wild duck, let us turn to its domes- ticated descendant. It is not in all situations that ducks can be kept with advantage, they require water much more even than the goose, they are no grazers, yet they are hearty feeders, and excellent "snappers up of unconsidered trifles:" nothing comes amiss to them — green vegetables, especially when boiled, the rejectamenta of the kitchen, meal of all sorts made into a paste, grains, bread, oatcake, animal substances, worms, slugs, and crushed snails, insects and their larvae, are all accepted with eagerness. Their appetite is not fastidious ; in fact, to parody the line of a song, " they eat all that is luscious, eat all that they can," and seem to be determined to reward their owner by keeping themselves in first rate condition if the chance of so doing is afforded them. They never need cramming — give them enough, and they will cram themselves; yet they have their requirements, and ways of their own, which must be conceded. Confinement will not do for them ; a paddock, an orchard, a green lane, and a pond; a farm yard, with barns, and water, a common, such as Barnes Commi|s=- ""llM-^ The swan is said in England to be a royal bird, " in which no subject can have property when at large in a public river or creek, except by grant from the Crown. In creating this privilege, the Crown grants a swan-mark (cygniota) for a game of swans, called in law-Latin deductus (a pastime, uu deduitj cygnorum, sometimes volatus cygnorum 593 (7 Coke's Rep. 17). In Scotland, the swan is said not to be a royal bird (Erskiue's Iiistit., b. ii., tit. 6), but whilst all proprietors iu that countiy have the right of fowling within their own grounds, swans, unless specially granted, appear to be reserved to the Crown (Stair's Iiistlt., b. ii., t. 3, s. 60 ; and see Ducange, Cygnos hahendi jus). In the reign of Elizabeth, upwards of 900 corporations and indl viduals had their distinctive swan-marks, some of which may be seen in Yarrell's British Birds, vol. iii." An admirable summary of the laws relative to swans may be seen under the head of Swan in the Penny Cydopcedia. As this article is too long for insertion here, and as we do not profess to under- stand the subject (for we know little of the feudal laws, and less of their modifications through suc- cessive reigns), we prefer giving our curious readers a reference to the paper in question. See also Yarrell's British Birds, Blomfield's Norfolk, Kemp's Losely MSS., Archceolojia, vol. xvi., Col. Hawker, and others. The male swan is popularly termed the coh ; the female swan, ih.ej)en bird. The male and female mate in pairs, and the male encourages and defends the female while brooding over her eggs. On passing up the river Thames in spring, from Battersea to Fdchmoud or Hampton Court, and still higher, various stations on the banks and willow-eyots may be observed, in which large swans' nests, elevated above the highest rise of the tide, are conspicuous, and on which the female may be seen incubating. These nests are built for the birds in their favourite spots ; the eggs are from about five to seven iu number, and the period of incubation is si.\ weeks. The young are termed cygnets. They are at first clothed with a grayish brown down ; this colour is not entirely lost until the beginning of the third year. During the summer and autumn, and per- haps through a great part of the winter, the cygnets follow their parents and are under their guidance. The food of the swan consists of aquatic plants aud their roots, grain, and, probably, of aquatic larv£E, small mollusks, d'c, for the pro- curing of which, at a considerable depth, their long neck gives them peculiar facilities. We give an outline of the heads of our four European swans, which will at once show their distinctness from each other. In the Magazine of Natural History ior 1839, p. 175, wUl be found an excellent paper by Mr. Pelerin, on the osteological aud other differences between the Polish and the mute swan. The Polish swan will breed freely in captivity; its young are white, the feet are slate gray, the tubercle on the beak, even in old males, is of small size. The hooper, as well as the Polish swan, will breed iu confinement on a pond or sheet of water. lEAD OF HOOPER DF POLISH SWAN. OF BKWICKS SWA> It is most probably this species which was cele- brated by the ancients for its dying song. Its wild note resembles the word "hoop" uttered several times successively, and when heai-d pro- ceeding from a large flock flying high over head, mellowed by distance, is far from being unmusical. We have alluded to the convolutions of the trachea of this species. The flesh of all the swans when the birds are young is of good quality. Formerly, it was in high estimation ; at present, as far as we can leani, it is only occasionally served at public banquets, swans being kept rather as ornaments, and in the continuation of ancient rights and customs, on our rivers and sheets of water, than for the sake of their flesh. All the species become rapidly very tame and familiar, feeding from the hand. SUBFAMILY ANSERINE, GEESE. The Geese, a ti-ibe of great utility to man, are united by several intermediate forms to the swans, so that it is difficult to determine, occupying as they do a sort of debeateable ground, whether they should be referred to the group of swans (which we have merely touched upon), or to the present subfamily. Indeed some naturalists, whose opinion is of weight, refer these intermediate forms to the former rather than the latter, and, but that cross breeds between them and the common goose have come under our notice, we should be strongly tempted to adopt their arrangement. On the other hand, there are certain forms of the aimtiiKs so elevated on the limbs, and so terrestrial in their habits, that they seem to connect the true geese with some groups among the waders (order Grallatores). As we are not writing for zoologists, these are points which we shall not moot. It is sufficient to have hinted at them, and the rather that two of the domesticated species to be noticed are swan-geese; and that a third tends towards the waders. Let us commence with the swan-geese, then treat of our ordinary species, and conclude with that which has most affinity with the waders. Canada Goose, or Cravat Goose (Anser Canadensis), Neeseah and Mistehayneeseah of the Cree Indian, Wild Goose of the Anglo-Americans. — Heame, Wilson, Audubon, Bonaparte, and others have given us full accounts of the habits and manners of the Canada goose in a state of nature. It is the common wild goose of the United States, and its regular periodical migrations are the sure signals of returning spring, or of approaching winter. The tracts of their vast migratoiy journeys are not confined to the sea-coast or its vicinity, for in their aerial voyages to and from the north, these birds pass over the interior on both sides of the mountains, as far west at least as the Osage river. " I have never," says Wilson, "yet visited any quarter of the country where the inhabitants are not familiarly acquainted with the regular passing and repassing of the wild geese." It is an opinion in the States that they visit the lakes to breed. Most, however, it would appear, wing their way much farther north- ward, for from the Canadian lakes they migrate to still higher latitudes on the setting in of spring. Heame saw them in large flocks within the Arctic circle, pushing their way still northward. Captain Phipps observed them on the coast of Spitz ber- gen in lat. 80° 27' N. Audubon found them breeding on the coast of Labrador, and states that the eggs, sis or seven in number, of a green- ish white, are deposited in a roughly made nest. Bonaparte states that it breeds everywhere throughout the Hudson's Bay Territory, and has been observed in the middle of July on the Copper- mine river, not far from its debouchure, accom- panied by its newly hatched young. The cry of this species is imitated by a nasal repetition of the syllable wook, or, as Wilson writes it, honk. The destruction of the Canada geese duiing their migrations is enormous ; the autumnal flight lasts from the middle of August to the middle of October, those which are taken in this season, when the frosts begin, are preserved in their feathers, and left to be frozen for the fresh pro- visions of the winter stock. The feathers con- stitute an article of commerce, and are sent to England. The vernal flight of these geese lasts from the middle of April until the middle of May. Their arrival in the fur countries from the south is impatiently expected ; it is the harbinger of spring, and the month is named by the Indians the goose moon. Dr. Richardson, in his Fauna Boreali- Americana, describes, as follows, the interest caused by the appearance of the flocks in the fur countries: — "The arrival of this well known bird in the fur countries is anxiously looked for and hailed with great joy by the natives of the woody and swampy districts, who depend principally on it for subsistence during the summer. It makes its first appearance in flocks of twenty or thirty, which are readily decoyed within gunshot by the hunters, who conceal themselves and imitate its call. Two, three, or more are so frequently killed at a shot, that the usual price of a goose is a single charge of ammunition. One goose, which when fat weighs about nine pounds, is the daily ration of one of the Company's servants during the season, and is reckoned equivalent to two snow- geese {Anas hyperhorea) or three ducks, or eight pounds of buffalo and moose-meat, or two pounds of pemmican, or a pint of maize, and four ounces of suet. "About three weeks after their first appearance the Canada geese disperse in pairs throughout the countiy, between the 50th and 67th parallels, to breed, retiring at the same time from the shores B94 of Hudson's Bay. They are seldom or never seen on the coasts of the Arctic sea. In July, after the young birds are hatched, the parents moult, and vast numbers are killed in the rivers and lakes, when (from the loss of their quill feathers) they are unable to fly. When chased by a canoe, and obliged to dive frequently, they soon become fatigued, and make for the shore with the intention of hiding themselves, but as they are not fleet they fall an easy prey to their pursuers. In the autumn they again assemble in flocks on the shores of Hudson's Bay for three ■weeks or a month previous to their departure southwards." The Canada goose feeds on aquatic vegetables and their roots, and delicate marine plants of the genus ?//r«. To this diet, they add grain and berries in their season. The flight of this species is laborious and heavy, and generally in single file, or in the form of two sides of a triangle, the leader, some old gander, being the ajncal bird. From time to time this leader utters his deep "honk," which is responded to by the rest of the flock, and which may be translated " What cheer, ho ! " " All's "well ! " Very often, however, all is not well, for the line is scattered by the withering fire of the gunner ; often, too, they meet with dense fogs in which they become bewildered, and after wheeling about alight on the ground, where the gunners give them a warm reception. In some districts the sportsmen take with them into the marshes one or two of the domesticated race, which by their call attract the flocks passing over head, and allure them to destruction. Wilson says, that, except in calm weather, the flocks of Canada geese rarely sleep on the water, generally preferring to roost all night in the marshes. When the shallow bays are frozen, they seek the mouths of inlets near the sea, occasionally visiting the air-holes in the ice ; but these bays are seldom so completely frozen as to prevent them feeding on the bars at the entrance. The Canada goose is a beautiful species, and its flesh is excellent. The head, two-thirds of the neck, the greater quills, the rump, and tail, are pitcli-black ; the back and wings brocoli-brown edged with wood-brown ; the base of the neck anteriorly, and the under plumage generally, brownish-gray ; a few white feathers are scattered about the eye, and a white cravat of a kidney shape forms a conspicuous mark on the throat; upper and under tail coverts pure white ; bill and feet black. Such is a brief sketch of the Canada goose in a state of nature. Man, however, has appreciated its value, and it is kept domesticated not only in America, but in many parts of Europe, where it breeds freely. In America the ordinary gray gnose of Europe is very common ; this indeed we need scarcely say, yet this bird does not thrive there so well as in Europe, hence many prefer the Canada goose, which is equally familiar, and in other respects its equal. CANADA GOOSE. This species, as we have said, will breed with the common goose, and it is asserted that the hybrid progeny is far superior in the flavour and sapidity of its flesh to the unmixed progeny of the common goose. Buffon, in whose time the Canada goose was kept in a domestic state in France, says, " Within these few years many hundreds have inhabited the great canal at Versailles, where they breed familiarly with the swans." That is, we suppose, interbreed with the swans, an instance of which has not come under our own notice ; the intermediate position, however, of this species renders the fact very probable. Like the duck and the common goose, the Canada goose under domestication ceases to be as strictly monogamous as it is in its wild state ; a circumstance which, in our tame anatidce, results from the plan of keeping but few males, and these in association with a flock of females, so that the ordinary results of pairing — that is, retiremeut from the rest to a secluded spot, which the mated jmir exclusively occupy — are interfered with. Yet, as may be seen in the instance of the common goose, the male generally attaches himself to a particular female, while she is followed by her brood of goslings over the common, and is energetic in their defence. The instinct is not quite oblite- rated, there is a reigning sultana. We could wish to see the Canada goose more extensively kept by farmers in our country than it is at present; it is common as an ornament to sheets of water in parks, gardens, and pleasure- grounds, but is too much neglected as a bird of utilitii ; it is alike valuable for flesh and feathers, at the same time it is not so decided a grazer as is the common goose ; the precincts of marshes and ponds which abound in aquatic vegetation, for the 595 procuring of wliich its strong bill ami long swan- like neck afford it facility, offer the most advan- tageous sites for its establishment, and in such localities we strongly recommend its adoption. With regard to its management little is to be said ; the sitting females require secluded nests free from intrusion, and the flock, in addition to the vegetables they pick up, require an allowance of grain. Like most birds known both in a wild and domestic state, the latter e.xceed the former in weight and magnitude. The facility with which the Canada goose, captured wild, is tamed, while yet it retains a " trick of the old nature," is well exemplified in a story related by Wilson, on the authority of a correspondent for whose veracity he avouches; which story, he observes, is paralleled by others of the same import. " Mr. Piatt, a respectable farmer on Long Island, being out shooting in one of the bays which, in that part of the country, abound with waterfowl, wounded a wild goose. Being wing-tipped and unable to fly, he caught it and brought it home alive. It proved to be a female, and turning it into his yard with a flock of tame geese, it soon became quite tame and familiar, and in a little time its wounded wing entirely healed. In the following spring, when the wild geese emigrate to the northward, a flock passed over Mr. Piatt's barn-yard, and just at that moment their leader happening to sound his bugle-note, our goose, in whom its new habits and enjoyments had not quite extinguished the love of liberty, remembering the well-known sound, spread its wings, moved in the air, joined the travellers, and soon disappeared. In the succeeding autumn the wild geese, as was usual, returned from the northward in great numbers to pass the winter in our bays and rivers. Mr. Piatt happened to be standing in his yard when a flock passed directly over his barn. At that instant he observed three geese detach themselves from the rest, and, nf:er wheeling round several times, alight in the miil He of the yard. Imagine his surprise and pler.sure, when by certain well-remembered signs he I'ecog- nised in one of the three his long-lost fugitive. It was she indeed ! She had travelled many hundred miles to the lakes, had there hatched and reared her offspring, and had now returned with her little family to share with them the sw-eets of civilized life. " The truth of the foregoing relation can be attested by many respectable people, to whom Mr. Piatt has related the circumstances as above detailed. The birds were all living and in his possession about a year ago, and had shown no dispositio7i whatever to leave l;im." We have been told of tame ducks (females) emancipating themselves, interbreeding with wild drakes, and briu"in" their brood back to the old familiar home. Such an instance has never come under our own knowledge, but we can believe it possible. Let us now pass to the sketch of another swan- goose : — The Chinese Swan-Goose, or Chinese Goose (Anser cygno'ides, Anser Guiniensis, Brisson ; L'oie de Guinee, Buffon). This noble species in its wild state appears to be very extensively spread. It is a native of China and other parts of Asia, and also of Africa, as is asserted, although we have never seen specimens in any collection either from the western or southern portions of the latter quarter of the globe ; we suspect the species to be chiefly confined to the central and oriental portions of Asia. Of its habits in a wild state nothing is known, yet that it is domesticated with the utmost facility we have abundant proof, for it has been long reared in ponds, and on the fresh- water sheets of pleasure- grounds, in our island, as an ornament. At one time several living specimens graced the gardens of the Zoological Society, of which some were brought direct from China. In general form, in length of neck, and in the protuberance at the base of the beak, these birds remind us of the swan, but their gait is more goose-like, and they I interbreed freely with the ordinary goose, though we believe the offspring are not fertile, at least among themselves. We have not unfrequently seen this species in farm-yards, as well as broods of mixed origin ; and it has often forcibly occurred to us that so fine a bird, intermediate in size between the goose and swan, has not received the attention generally which it merits ; we have, as already stated, seen it or a mixed breed in farm- yards, but still it is not common. The Chinese goose in domestication varies in colour ; its description is as follows : — Bill orange, with a blackish or darkish coloured protuberance surmounting the base of the upper mandible, and a feathered wattle under the throat ; a dark brown stripe runs down the hinder part of the neck from the head to the back ; the fore-part of the neck and breast are yellowish gray ; the back and all the upper parts are grayish brown; abdomen white ; legs orange. Variety A, with the bill and legs black. Variety B, plumage white, with a pale brown mark down the back of the neck, vanishing at the lower part. We have but few observations to make on this species. Like the Canada goose, it is far less adapted for grazing than the common goose ; nevertheless, it may be reared in farm-yards with- out trouble. Colonel Montagu relates a singular instance in which a Chinese goose attached her- self to a pointer dog. This pointer, not the mildest of his race, one day killed the male bird of the pair, and was not only smartly punished THE CHINt for his offence, but was obliged to submit to the indignity of having the dead body of the bird tied to his neck. The solitary goose became extremely distressed for the loss of her partner and only companion, and seeing him attached to the neck of the miscreant dog, who was confined to the kennel, was thereby, as it would appear, attracted to the spot, and seemed determined to persecute the dog by her incessant attendance and vocifera- tions. Thus things went on, till by degrees the bird's lamentations not only ceased, but, as the asperities of the hardest stones are rubbed down by attrition till the opposing sides fit together, a strange friendship, if such a term be allowed, the result of habit, took place between these previous enemies and ill-assorted animals. They fed out of the same trough, lived under the same roof, and kept each other warm on the same bed of straw. When the dog was taken to the field, the lamenta- tions of the goose were incessant till his return. We find this species noticed in the Catalogue of the birds lately exhibited in the Chinese Museum opposite Hyde Park, as Cygnopsis cygndides. See Mr. Strickland in Proceeds. Zool. Soc, 1842, p. 166. Its generic distinction from the true geese, as that also of the Canada goose, which Cuvier says " me parait un vrai eigne," cannot be contested. These birds, we say, are swan-geese — that is, they are not true swans nor yet true geese, but combine in themselves characters referable to both families, and thus form a link uniting the cygnince to the anati7ice. We might here enlarge upon this point, but we do not forget that we are not now writing for zoologists. From these intermediate forms we next pro- ceed to the t7-ii£ geese, of which the ordinary goose, or rather its wild origin, may be taken as a typical example. Of the true geese, anser, as at present re- stricted, Europe presents us with the following species :— 1. The Gray-lag Wild Goose [Anser paliis- tris, Fleming ; Anser cinereus, Meyer). — To be noticed hereafter. 2. The Bean-Goose (Anser ferns, Fleming ; Anser segehmi, Steph.) — This is the ordinary wild goose, so well known as a periodical visitant during winter to our shores and morasses. In general appearance and in plumage it closely resembles the gray-lag, from which, however, it may always be distinguished by the form of the bill, and also by its colour. It is shorter, smaller, and more compressed towards the end than in the gray-lag. The basal part of the upper mandible, and that also of the under, together with the nail or dertrum at the tip, being black, while the intermediate part is flesh-red, inclining to orange. This species breeds in the high northern regions of Europe and Asia. Some, however, it is said, make Harris and the outermost islands of the Hebrides a summer residence, but the main body find their asylum within the Arctic circle. After rearing their broods and moulting, the vast flocks begin their progress southward, and arrive in our island generally in October, and depart in April. The shyness and vigilance of this bird are well known. During the day they frequent wide open upland grounds, and often do much injury to the springing wheat. At night they seek security amidst the marslies, or on some bar along the coast sufliciently distant from the mainland to give them the opportunity of observing the ap- proach of any suspicious object ; hence it is only by stratagem that they can be approached within gun-shot. Their flight is high and very rapid, and, as usual, the flocks make their aerial journeys in lines or triangles. For a complete history of this species see Bewick, Yarrell, Selby, and others. We shall only pause to observe, that this species is not the origin of the domestic goose. 3. The White-fronted Goose (Anser erythro- pus, Fleming ; Anser alhifrons, Bechstein). — This species, like the bean-goose, is a regular winter visitant to our island. It is common alike to Europe, Asia, and North America, and breeds within the Arctic circle, whence the flocks migrate southwards on the approach of winter. In the white-fronted goose the bill is flesh-red tinged with orange, the nail or dertrum being skim-milk white. Not the origin of our domestic race. 4. The PiNK-FOOTED Goose {Anser phoenico- pus, Bartlett, in Proceeds. Zool. Soc, 1839, p. 3). — A winter visitant to our island, but apparently rare. AUied to the bean-goose, but has the bill shorter, smaller, more contracted towards the tip, and of a diiferent colour ; its base, sides, and nail are black, the space between the nail and nostril being reddish flesh or pink. Mr. Bartlett points 697 out many other distinctive marks between the two species, which need not here detain us. Not the origin of our domestic race. With the genus bernicla, which includes the bernicle-goose, the brent-goose, and others, we have no immediate concern. The genus is en- tirely distinct from that of the true geese. Of the four geese to which we have alluded, thi-ee, as stated, are not the originals of our domestic stock ; but one is, viz., the gray-lag. Here, then, we revert from this brief digression. The Domestic Goose (^Anser paltistris, Flem. ; var. Doniesticus). — When, or by what people, the goose was reclaimed, it is impossible to say ; but that it is a descendant of the gray-lag cannot be doubted. Their essential characters are the same, " no disinclination to breed with each other is evinced between them, and the offspring of wild and domesticated birds are as prolific as their mutual parents." The gray-lag is not an Arctic bird. Temminck says that it seldom advances beyond the 53rd degree of north latitude. Conse- quently its migratory movements are on a limited scale, and irregular. Its geographical range ex- tends over the central and eastern parts of Europe, Central Asia, and some parts of Western Africa. Formerly it was abundant in our island as a per- manent resident, breeding in the fenny counties, such as Lincolnshire, Cambridgeshire, &c. ; but from these seats it has been long banished, to- gether with the stork, the spoonbill, and the crane, and driven to more congenial abodes. Our great marshes and fens of the olden time, in which alone such birds could have found security, have by drainage been gradually circumscribed, and extensive lands, once morasses or under water, are now rich farms devoted to the plough. In feudal England towns and villages were few, small, and far apart ; vast districts were left un- cultivated and unpopulated. Intestine and foreign wars thinned the island of its population ; fi-equent famines, with accompanying diseases, contributed to the same effect ; the mass of the people were serfs or bond slaves ; their wholesale destruction was scarcely deemed worth notice by the historian ; death, or torture, or fines and imprisonment, were the doom of the unfortunate man who killed beast or bird of chase even by accident. The hunting and the hawking of the prince and noble were paramount in importance to agriculture ; nay, as if the country were not sufficiently depopulated for the pleasure of regal and baronial Nimrods, hundreds of acres were cleared of human inhabit- ants, and given to the deer and the wild boar, and to wild fowl of all kinds, for the gratification of the huntsman and the falconer. But the improve- ment of agriculture, the advancement of commerce, the increase of human population, all making pro- gress as feudal usages and laws became one after another obsolete, gradually effected changes, not only on society at large, but on the face of the country in general ; and although at first this alteration of things was scarcely perceptible, yet, once begun, it proceeded with increasing momen- tum, until the face of England assumed a new appearance. Our forests are gone, our parks circumscribed, our marshes drained, so that if the conquering Normans, or, to go back still further, the haughty CiBsar, were (could it be possible) to revisit our island, they would not know the coun- try in which they played their part. That similar changes in the zoology of an island of no great extent should have accordingly taken place, cannot be a matter of surprise ; yet in this point of view (as in others) indications of what was in the by- gone time are not altogether wanting. For example (to confine our observations to the humble subject before us), although the gray-lag goose is no longer indigenous, still a few flocks in winter, wandering perhaps from the lakes and fiords of Norway, occasionally pay us a visit, and sojourn for a time among our marshes, or on the lowlands near the coast. These flocks evince all the vigi- lance and shyness which the anseres display in common. While feeding, sentinels are on the watch, and these raise, on the slightest suspicion, a cry of alarm which rouses the flock to instant activity. The same precaution is observed at niglit ; and it was thus, if records speak true, that by the vigilance of this bird the Roman capitol was saved from the assault of the Gauls. Bartlett's description of this species (Proceeds. Zool. Soc.) is very accurate : — " Entire length, 35 inches ; extent, 64 ; from the carpal joint to end of wing, 17^ inches. The plumage more cinereous than in the bean-goose; the shoulders and rump light gray ; breast and belly white, sometimes spotted with black ; the bill 2 J inches long, more robust, deeper, broader, and with the laminae much more developed than in the bean- goose ; colour a dull yellow, inclining to a flesh tint towards the nail, which is white ; in summer the bill assumes a redder tint ; legs and feet pale flesh colour ; wings, when closed, even with the end of the tail. The young of this species are darker than the adults, but the gray upon the shoulders and rump, the form of the bill, and the I colour of the legs and feet, will always distinguish them from the young of any of the other species." Pennant says that the upper and under tail coverts are pure white ; the middle tail feathers dusky tipped with white, the exterior feathers being almost wholly white. Weight of the heaviest about ten pounds. The young when captured, according to the same authority, were often tamed (in his day); they were esteemed most excellent meat, superior to the domestic goose. The old geese which are shot are, he says, plucked M M 598 and sold in the market as fine tame ones, and readily bought, the purchaser being deceived by the size, but their flesh is coarse. Towards -winter, he adds, they collect in great flocks, and live and feed in the fens. Pennant lived from 1726 to 1798. Great are the changes which have occurred since his time ! Then the gray- lag resided, as he says, in the fens the whole year, breeding there, and hatching about eight or nine young ; but now even winter visitants are not very common, while the truly migratory bean-goose is abundant throughout winter in appropriate situa- tions. THE COMMON GOOSE. From this cursor}^ yet not irrelevant account of the gray-lag goose, let us turn to its domestic relative, which, as is usual, varies much in colour, rather as to the amount of gray on the plumage than as to tint — the white often predominating — some, especially ganders, being wholly of the latter hue. Extensively spread as the wild goose is and ever has been, we believe that different nations or tribes, either at or about the same time, or from time to time, rendered the young domestic, and that in distant portions of the earth the goose was reclaimed from the wild breed. The same obser- vation applies to the duck. Unlike the fowl and t?ie turkey, they had not to radiate from a certain centre ; the same wants everywhere incite to the same attempts, and, cceteris paribus, with equal success. Caesar found the fowl and the goose domesticated in Britain. The fowl must have been an importation, and perhaps a then recent one; the goose was most probably domesticated from young birds, or from old ones captured in nets or traps, indigenes of the island. The Britons had no occasion to receive this bird from other countries — yet in other countries, far and wide, was the goose, long before Caesar's time, a common domestic bird. From the ancient draw- ings and sculptured representations of animals we are led to conclude that, besides ducks and the vvlpanser or cJienalopex, the ordinary goose was reared by the Egyptians, and that too in consider- able abundance. On this point, however, we shall not insist — yet we think that those who will take the trouble to e.xamine the delineations in the British Museum will agree with us. That the goose was common in Greece and Italy, as well as throughout Gaul, is indisputable. It is the xi" (chen) of the Greeks, hansa in Sanscrit, ken in the modem Coptic (query borrowed from the Greek '?), aser and also ganza in Latin (gander, English), (jans, Teutonic. These words have all one common origin. The ancient British gwydd, the English goose, the Saxon gos, the Italian oca, and the French oie, are, we suspect, derivable from the same ancient root— to which the French " oiseau,'" and the Italian " uccello," appear also to belong. However this may be, setting doubtful etymology aside, the antiquity of the domestic goose is certain. Not only was the reed used as a pen in ancient Egypt, but also the gray-goose quill ; indeed, in some of the paintings on the tombs, the feathered pen is distinctly figured in the hands of the writer. The Egyptians wrote in narrow columns, from right to left, beginning at the top on the right, and carrying the next column to the left — reversing our mode. We have already alluded to the story told by Pliny of the salvation of the Capitol by the cries of the wakeful geese, while the watch-dogs were sleeping ; in commemoration of which, as it is said, a silver goose was periodically carried through the city of Home in solemn procession, dogs being at the same time cruelly sacrificed : moreover, sacred geese were kept in the temple of Vesta, and no doubt pampered for the sake of their holy flesh ; this we do not assert, but of one thing we are sure, that geese in ancient Italy were treated much as geese are in France at the present day — the "_?)«?(; defoie gras " being a dish of great antiquity. Nor did the Romans spare to pluck these birds alive, a practice still continued in Italy, and, we are sorry to say, in other countries also. The white birds were deemed the most valuable for feathers, and vast flocks were driven from great distances to the precincts of the Eternal City. It appears from Pliny that it was not uncommon to pluck the geese twice a-year. We can hardly credit Pliny's account of the pilgrimage of flocks of geese (not voluntary on their part) from France, even from the Pas-de-Calais (now so called) to Piome ; a fact which he himself says is astonishing. His words are : — " Mirum in hac alite a Morinis usque ad Romam pedibus venire. Fessi proferuntur ad primes ; ita cteteri stijiatione naturali propellunt eos. Candidorum alterum vectigal in pluma — velluntur quibusdam in locis bis anno. Rursus plumigeri vestuuntur ; molliorque quae corpori 509 quam proxima ; et e Germauia laudatissima. Candidi, ibi, veriim minores, Ganza vocantiir. Pretium plumae eorum in libras, denarii quini." We may thus translate the passage: — "It is ■wonderful that these birds will travel on foot from the country of the Morini (the district around Calais and St. Omer), even to Rome. The wearied ones are placed in front, and the rest, by a natural crowding together, push them onwards. The plumage of the white geese is an additional source of profit ; in some places they are plucked twice a-year, but the feathers are soon renewed. The down nearest the body is the softest, and that brought from Germany is in the highest esteem. There, the white birds, which indeed are the smaller, are called ganztt {gans, German, gaas, Danish, gas Swedish, gander English). The price of their feathers amounts to five denarii (five eight- pennies) per pound." What numbers of geese must have perished during such a journey ! We know that the flocks brought up to London from Lincolnshire, Essex, Buckinghamshire, Surrey, and the Western Coun- ties, are thinned by casualties on the I'oad ; but what are the journeys they perform to the long pilgrimage of the geese of the Morini! Many months must have ela])sed before their final rest- ing place was attained, and then in what condition must their flesh have been ! We suspect that their livers were the great desiderata, and it is remai-kable that in many or most parts of Italy at the present day, and also in other portions of the Continent, tlie goose is in little request for the table. It is not, we believe, a. fashionable bird in England, though Strasburg pates made with dis- eased livers are universally esteemed and highly ashionable. " De gustibus non est desputan- dum." Some, for instance, relish the putrescent flesh of the deer and of the pheasant, and the roasted intestines of the woodcock filled (as we, on our word, have seen) with earthworms and small mud -insects. Query, is such a taste, whether for carrinn or diseased liver, natural? Let it here sufiBce us to have proved the early domestication and value, either for flesh or feathers, of the common goose. Let us attend to this important bird as we find it now in our own country. If we traverse a common on which geese are kept, we find the flocks of the respective owners keeping together, and if by chance they mingle on the pond or sheet of water, they separate towards evening and retire, each tlock to its own domicile. On extensive commons where many thousands of geese are kept, this rule is scarcely ever broken ; the flocks of young geese bi'ought up together, as their parents were before them, form a united band, and thus distinct groups herd together, bound by the ties of habit. Within the last few years, comparatively speaking, our extensive commons have been en- closed or at least greatly circumscribed, and the number of geese kept by the farmers around, who had right of grazing, has been reduced accor- dingly. This has been the case, as a friend in- forms us, in Wiltshire ; he remembers the time in which certain wide commons wei'e the grazing grounds of thousands of geese belonging to different owners, each of whom had his own mark impressed by a punch on the webs between the toes of the birds — seldom, however, did the flocks commingle ; goose-herds attended them, watching over the interests of their particular charge, and seeing them safely penned up for the night. These flocks were valuable, partly for their feathers, though not altogether so, for great numbers were consigned to fatteuers for the London market ; and hundreds, put upon their travels, were sold to casual buyers from stage to stage along the road. Many geese, as we have seen, are reared in Surrey on the heaths or commons ; and Lincoln- shire still produces thousands. We do not now look to our home-bred geese for feathers, as we did some years since, for the continent is our chief resource ; still the pictui-e given by Pennant is not altogether effaced ; — he informs us that geese in his day were kept in multitudes in the fens of Lincolnshire, a single person having frequently a thousand old geese, each of which reared on an average seven young ones, so that towards the end of the season the owner became possessed of about eight thousand. It is cus- tomary to pluck the geese once a-year for their quills, and four or five times for their feathers ; and this practice is undoubtedly barbarous : it is asserted, however, that if performed at the proper season, it is less painful and injurious to the bird than might be supposed. The breedei's say that they, for their own profit, pluck only such feathers as are near falling off, the removal of which gives but little pain, because such as are firmly fixed, having a little blood at the end, are the less valuable. We would ask, do geese moult four or five times a-year ? — if not, then firm feathers are torn away to be renewed. Are the pinions plucked at the time in which they would be natu- rally shed ? No ! Are not young geese plucked as well as those of more mature age, early pluck- ing before moulting-tinie being supposed to pro- mote the growth of the feathers ? It is so. Is it not a known fact that many birds die, especially in cold weather, in consequence of this treatment ! How futile is it to attempt to prove that such a practice is not cruel. Pennant witnessed the " operation" during his journey in Scotland; let us hear what he says. His account is veiy in- teresting, and brings to mind Sir Walter Scott's 600 delineation of the redoubtable " Guse Gibbie," ■who left his feathered charge to act the part of a man-at-arms. " During the breeding season," says Pennant, " these birds are lodged in the same houses vith the inhabitants, and even in their very bed-chambers ; in every apartment are three rows of coarse wicker pens, placed one above another ; each bird has its separate lodge divided from the other, of which it keeps possession during the time of sitting. A person called a gozzard, i. e., a goose-herd, attends the flock, and twice a-day drives the whole to water ; then brings them back to their habitations, helping those that live in the upper stories to their nests, without ever misplac- ing a single bird. The geese are plucked/re times in the year ; the first plucking is at Lady-day for feathers and quills, and the same is renewed four times more, between that and Michaelmas for feathers only. The old geese submit quietly to the operation, but the young ones are vei-y noisy and unruly. I once saw this performed, and ob- served that goslins of six weeks old were not spared, for their tails were plucked, as I was told, to habituate them early to what they are to come to. If the season prove cold, numbers of the geese die by this barbarous custom. When the flocks are numerous, about ten pluckers are em- ployed, each with a coarse apron up to his chin. Vast numbers of geese are driven annually to London to supply the markets, among them all the superannuated geese and ganders (called the cagmags), which by a long course of plucking, prove uncommonly tough and dry." The plan of plucking geese alive, is infinitely more cruel than the rouing of sheep, and yet that operation is sufficiently brutal. In Pennant's time the feathers from Somerset- shire were esteemed the best ; those from Ireland the worst. Mr. M'Culloch, in his Statistical Ac- count of the British Empire (1839), says: " the best geese are found on the borders of Suffolk, and Norfolk, and in Berks. Somerset furnishes the best goose-feathers for beds." It is not irrelevant to our plan to say something respecting the preparation of geese-feathers for use ; — we ought not, indeed, to omit some notice of it; but we have no practical knowledge rela- tive to any of the processes. We thank the writer of an able article in the supplement to the Penny Cyclopcedia (an invaluable work), for supplying us with information ; and, acknowledging our obliga- tion, beg leave to extract as much of the paper on Feathers, as will bear upon the subject before us. " Goose feathers are divided into wliite and gray, the former being deemed the most valuable (as was the case, when Pliny wrote, among the Romans). The less valuable kind of feathers, known by the general name of poultry feathers, are obtained from turkeys, ducks, and fowls. " W^ild duck feathers are both soft and elastic, but their value is impaired by the great difficulty of removing the disagreeable odour of the animal oil which they contain. " Various methods are practised of cleansing feathers from their oil, and the Society of Arts presented a reward of twenty guineas, in 1805, to Mrs. Piichardson for a process considered superior to any then practised, in which the feathers were immersed for three or four days in lime-water, compounded of one pound of quick-lime to a gal- lon of water. After being steeped for this time, the feathers were placed on a sieve to allow the lime-water to drain away ; they were then washed with clean water, and spread upon nets to dry, the whole being shaken from time to time, by which the dried feathers fell through the meshes of the nets. The whole process occupied about three weeks, and at its conclusion, the feathers were said only to require beating for use. Lime is used by the Irish in the preparation of feathers, but being applied too plentifully, they become loaded with dust, and consequently bear an inferior cha- racter in the market. In small quantity it appears likely to aid in the preservation of the feathers to which small portions of the animal fibre will occasionally adhere ; but Dr. Ure seems opposed to its use, observing that ' bleaching with lime- water is a bad thing, as they can never be freed from white dust afterwards. Their only prepara- tion,' he states, 'when cleanly gathered is, a slight beating to clear away the loose matter, but for this purpose they must be first well dried either by the sun or a stove.' Judging, however, by the com- munications made to the Society of Arts [Trans- actions, vol. xxiii., pp. 210-215), it would appear that the plan above described was successful in cleansing some feathers in a perfectly raw state, and others which, after being stoved for the period of three days, retained their unpleasant smell. " The purification of bed-feathers by the agency of steam, has recently been practised on an extensive scale in Loiidon by Mr. Herring. By the process employed, which is secured by patent, and is applicable either to new feathers, or to such as have become deteriorated by use, the feathers are so greatly improved in softness and elasticity, that a much less quantity of them than of feathers prepared in the ordinary way, suffices to make a good bed. " From a testimonial addressed to the patentee by Dr. Ure, it appears that the surplus feathers, removed in consequence of this improved elasticity, from three beds which were submitted to this process, were sufficient to make a fourth bed of excellent quality, of forty pounds weight." When geese are plucked several times in a year for other feathers, the quills are only taken at the first plucking, about the end of March. 601 As taken from the bird, the homy substance of the barrel of the quill is covered, both internally and externally, with a vascular membrane which adheres very closely to it, and the substance of the quill itself, is opaque, soft, and tough. The quills must, therefore, be subjected to certain operations by which the membranes may be detached and dried up, and the barrel rendered transparent, hard, and somewhat brittle ; previous to which they are sorted into primes, seconds, and pinions, the first of which consists of the largest and longest barrelled quills, and the others of such as possess these characteristics in a less degree. They are further sorted into right and left wing feathers, in order that all tied up in one bundle may have the same curvature ; and before tying up for sale the barb, or feather proper, is usually stripped off from the inner edge of the stem, in order that they may lie compactly together. In a gooses wing it is only the five exterior quills which are fit for making pens, and of these the first is the hardest and roundest but the shortest, and the second and third are considered the best. " Dutch quills," observes Dr. Ure, " have been highly esteemed, as the Dutch were the first who hit upon the art of preparing them well, by clear- ing them both inside and outside from a fatty humour with which they are naturally impreg- nated, and which pi-events the ink from flowing freely along the pens made with them. The Dutch," he adds, " for a long time employed hot cinders or ashes to attain this end ; and their secret was preserved very carefully, but it at length transpired, and the process was then im- proved." In the improved method the barrel end of the quill is plunged for a few seconds into a sand-bath, heated to about I-IO" Fahr., and then rubbed strongly with a piece of flannel. After this it appears white and transparent. " Both carbonate of potash and sulphuric acid," observes our authority, " have been tried to effect the same end, but without success." The above pro- cess is, however, sometimes followed by a brief immersion in dilute muriatic acid, which gives the appearance of age to the quills. They must afterwards be made perfectly dry. The above is described by Dr. Ure as the French process ; he notices two other modes adopted by London quill-dealers, the first of which is styled the Dutch method. In it the workman, who is styled a dutcher, sits before a small stove fire, into which he thrusts the barrel of the quill for about a second. Imme- diately upon withdrawing it from the fire he draws it under the edge of a large blunt-edged knife, called a hook (shaped somewhat like a patten-maker's knife, and like it having a fulcrum at one end, formed by a hook and staple, and a handle at the other end, by which pressure may be communicated), by which it is forcibly com- pressed against a block or plate of iron heated to about 350° Fahr. By this process, the barrel, which is rendered soft and elastic by the heat, is pressed flat, and stripped of its outer membrane without danger of splitting. It springs back to its natural form, and the dressing is completed by scrubbing with a piece of rough dog-fish skin. The principal workman employed in this operation can pass 2,000 quills through his hands in a day of ten hours. In the other method alluded to, which is considered inferior as it regards the quality of the quills for pen-making, although it makes them somewhat more pleasing to the eye, the quills are first stained yellow by steeping them for a night in a decoction of turmeric, then dried in warm sand, and subsequently scraped by the dutcher in the manner above described. Steaming for four hours has also been suggested as a good mode of dressing or preparing quills. By whatever process the external membrane is removed, that inside the quill remains separated from it and shrivelled up in the centre of the barrel, until it is cut open to convert it into a pen. With respect to the treatment of geese little need be said. They require a dormitory apart from other fowls, and a green field or common with a convenient pond of water, such as we see at Barnes. Let not, however, the keeper of geese suppose that their daily grazing is sufficient for their maintenance in proper condition ; on the contrary, they require a good supply of grain, oats or barley, morning and evening, and to deny them this is folly as well as cruelty. Many young geese common-fed only, pine and die for want of suf- ficient nutriment. Dysenterj' attacks them, accom- panied by spasms of the limbs, or cramp as it is called ; this disease is aggravated by cold and wet, their impoverished system is destitute of stamina, and thus a fair flock, prospering in spring, is more than decimated before autumn. What is vorth doing is worth doing nrll. Do not keep stock if you cannot j^roperly keep them. " Let the flock's good feed be the master's heed ; what at first he may cast will be doubled at last." Thousands of geese are sent from various parts of the country to persons engaged in the business of preparing them for the market ; for example, in the Lincolnshire Chronicle for December 1845, it was stated that Mr. Robert Fuller, a poulterer, of Boston, killed in one week for the London Christmas market, 2,400 geese, 1,000 ducks, and 500 turkeys, which altogether weighed upwards of twenty tons. The management of geese by the great feeders in the vicinity of London is thus detailed in a communication to Mr. Moubray : — " Cleanliness, 602 punctuality, and regularity prevail ; the business is conducted, as it were, by machinery, rivalling the vibrations of the pendulum in uniformity of movement. The grand object of pi'eparing, not geese only, but poultry in general, for market, in as short a time as possible, is effected solely by paying unremitting attention to their wants ; in keeping them thoroughly clean ; in suppljang them with proper food (dry, soft, and green), water, exercise-ground, &c. On arriving at the feeder's, they are classed accoi'ding to condition, &c. : they soon become reconciled to their new abode, and to each other. They are fed three times a-day; and it is truly astonishing how soon they acquire the knowledge of the precise time ; marching from the exercise-ground to the pens like soldiers in close column. Goslins, or young geese, come to hand generally about the month of March, after which a regular and constant supply arrives weekly throughout the season. At first they are fed on soft meat, consisting of prime barley or oat meal, afterwards on dry corn. An idea prevails with many that any sort of corn will do for poultry : this is a grand mistake. Those who feed largely know better, and invariably make it a rule to buy the best. The Messrs. Boyce of Stratford, whose pens are capable of holding the extraordinary num- ber of 4,000 geese, independent of ducks, turkeys, &c., consume twenty coombs of oats daily, exclusive of other food." Green geese are brought very early and in great numbers to the London market, where they sell at high prices. They are usually lattened on oatmeal and peas, mixed with skimmed milk or buttermilk — also upon oats or other grain, and are ready for the table at the age of about four months. Green geese are very delicate, but many prefer the Michaelmas goose (]\Iichaelmas, " oh, word of fear, unpleasing to a goose's ear"), after it has fed upon the stubble fields, and gleaned in the barn-yard. Persons who breed geese generally assign one gander to four or five females. In mild seasons the goose lays early ; she sits with exemplary patience, but ought, during incubation, to be well supplied with food and water placed in a con- venient and undisturbed situation, to which she may have free access. The gander is very atten- tive to his favourite, sits by her, and is vigilant and daring in her defence. The goslins, or gulls as they are termed in some parts, require the same treatment as duck- lings ; it is advisable to pen the mother for a few days upon a diy grass plot or green sward, sup- plying her with water and grain, of which the young will partake ; green food, as chopped cabbage, or beet-leaves, oat-cake cut small, and the like, may be given. One thing is imperative, let not the young be staiTed upon the grass of poor common land — this miserable pasturage occasions disease and mortality ; a few handfuls of com given morning and afternoon, even from selfish motives, would turn to good account in the long run, but humanity commands what selfishness grudgingly allows. Geese are seldom crammed in England, but in France this is a common practice, accompanied by barbarities so atrocious as to excite the utmost abhorrence. Rome of old has consigned, as a legacy to Europe, the pates de foie gras, but the practice of cramming geese in order to produce an enlargement of the liver, ancient as it may be, is abhorrent to the mind of any one who calls him- self a man and a Christian. Who that possesses one spark of feeling could sit down and enjoy a dish prepared for him by the perpetration of the most unwarrantable cruelty. Let us kill, as reason and Scripture alike pei-mit, but let us not torture. One bird alone now remains for us to notice, and we hesitate as to the propriety of its introduction into a work of the present nature ; yet, as a few lines only will be devoted to it, we tnist to the indulgence of our readers. The bird to which we allude is the Yulpanser {vuljjes, a fox, anser, a goose) of the Latins, xw^^i^^vi of the Greeks ; that is, the Fox-goose, so called from its vigilance and cunning. Genus Chenalopex. Bill as long as the head, slender, nearly straight, rounded at the tip, laminated on the margin, upper mandible slightly curved, nail hooked, lower mandible flat ; no.^trils sub-basal, upper mandible margined all routid with brown, the centre of a reddish iiesh colour ; irides, orange ; wings armed with spurs at the shoulder; tarsi, elongated; the three anterior toes fully webbed ; hind toe, simple. The Egyptian Goose (Chenalopex jEgyptiacus, Gould ; Anser JEgijptiacus, Brisson) is now kept only as an ornament to sheets of water, in parks and pleasure-grounds, where it breeds freely. In ancient Egjpt it was common as a domestic bird, more so perhaps than was the ordinary goose, and correct re- preseutations of it have survived the lapse of ages, and found a resting-place in the museum of an island unknown to the Egyptians. Indeed, from the pictures and sculptured representations of ancient Egypt which time has spared, and from the re- mains of animals preserved in catacombs, a very correct estimate may be formed of the farmer's live- stock in that country upwards of three thousand years ago. In ancient Egypt goose was a standing dish ; fish was prohibited to the priests, but they were well recompensed for this privation by a plentiful supply of goose, and also beef ; but goose appears to have been the favourite dish, and if om- ideas be correct, the present species of goose was most 603 in vogue. The following passage occurs in the ■work on the Egyptian Antiquities (vol. ii., p. 31 1) : — " The Egpytiau goose, the chenalopex of Hero- dotus, is of frequent occurrence on the sculptures, though it was not a sacred bird, unless it may have some claims to that honour from having beezi a favourite article of food for the priests. A place in Upper Egypt had its name, Chenoboscion or Chenoboscia {goose-pens), from these animals being fed there, probably for sale, though these may have been sacred geese, for we are told that the goose was a bird under the care of Isis." The chenalopex is not now a domestic bird of Egypt. The Egyptian goose is spread throughout Africa and the adjacent parts of Asia and Europe. Mr. Gould, who gives an excellent portrait of an adult male in his Birds of Europe, states that he has not been led to do so by the number of half- reclaimed individuals which are yearly shot in our island, but from the circumstance of its occasionally visiting the southern parts of the Con- tinent from its native country, Africa. M. Tem- minck, he remarks, particularly mentions the island of Sicily as one of the places frequented by it, and he adds that this is the species which would appear to have been held in great veneration by the ancient Egyptians, as we frequently find a figure of it among the monuments of that cele- brated peoj^le. It is, he says, abundant on the banks of tlie Nile, and is distributed over the whole of the vast continent of Africa. The Egyptian goose is a beautiful bird, and constitutes one of the links, as before observed, between the anatidce and the grallatores or waders. Description as follows : — Sexes nearly similar ; female rather smaller than the male, and with the colouring less intense. Narrow edging of feathers round the base of the bill, a line running nearly straight from that edging to the eye, and a large patch surrounding the eye, chestnut ; crown of the head, sides of the face and anterior part of neck, pale buff, approaching to white, gradually passing into rufous brown on the back of the neck ; lower part of the neck of the same reddish tinge, which forms there a slightly marked collar. Upper part of the back light chestnut brown, rayed with very minute trans- verse irregular lines of dark brown, approaching to black ; middle of the back and upper part of scapulars dark reddish brown, minutely rayed with irregular transverse lines of blackish brown and gray ; lesser wing-coverts white, except the posterior row of feathers, which are crossed with black near their extremities, so as to form a narrow oblique band across the wing. Primaries, lower part of the back, rump, and tail, black ; secon- daries, rich green, glossed with purple. In the middle of the breast there is a large patch of deep chestnut ; the rest of the under part of the body, from the slight collar to the thighs, pale buff, with irregular transverse blackish-brown lines. Vent and under-tail coverts rich buff. Legs and feet reddish flesh colour. Thus we close our history of Poultry. We have aimed not only at giving a practical view of our subject, but a philosophical one also, for he who understands the nature of the domestic animals, be they what they may, which he rears, will breed, treat, and manage them with a cer- tainty to wliich the ignorant cannot pretend ; hence we trust that our exposition of the characters of the classes to which our domestic birds belong, and the still nicer shades on which the families and genera are founded, will not be unappreciated. We have endeavoured to do justice to an impor- portant subject, and to treat it not as a "fancier," but as a scientific man can-ying out his observa- tions into the farm-yard and among our feathered dependants which gather round the good man's door ; and indeed which constitute, collectively considered, an amount of property too little taken into calculation. With respect to diseases, what we have said when speaking of the fowl, will, as far as we know, bear upon all our domestic birds.* As to treatment generally, good air, good and sufiicient food, pure water, cleanliness, regu- larity, warmth in winter, freedom as far as con- sistent with safety — these are the pivots upon which success depends. He who feeds poultiy niggardly, robs his own purse. With this obser- vation we conclude, hoping that our sketch of the nature, habits, and manners of the feathered races which man has called around him, some from Asia, some from Africa, and some from America, may not prove altogether unaccej * It is advisable to refer once more to that destnictive disease the gapes (see page 144), the cure of which has hitherto heeu so uncertain. In our account of bronchitis in 'The Ox' (pp. 123, 133), we advocated the exhibition of spirits of turpentine, and have given two formulae in which turpentine constitutes the essential ingredient. That tui-pentine will be very efficacious in the case of fowls cannot be doubted. Indeed, a correspondent, who dates his letter, Wootton, Christ Church, Oct. 2, 1848, assures us that it is the onlj/ remedy on which to depend. His words are, " Half a teaspoonful of spirits of turpentine mixed with a handful of grain is a certan cure in a few days — giving a handful of such grains to a couple of dozens young chicks each day. It is the most perfect and unfailing remedy. I communicated this receipt to the Gardeners Chronicle (No. xxix., July 17, 1847, p. 476), and I understand it has been found, by other persons besides myself, to be successful — perfectly so. In this part of England, it is the only disease of chickens, and for two seasons the number that died of it was very great." The rationale of this mode of treatment is as follows : the turpentine is absorbed into the system, and so brought into contact with the parasitic worms in the windpipe, to which it is speedily fatal — they are then ejected with the mucus, and the cause of iiTJtalion being thus removed, the bird speedily recovers. [CONCLDSION OF PODLTRY.] BEES. Amid the profound mysteries and inexhaustible profusion of life by which we are surrounded, and which only deepen and increase to our eyes, as science leads us farther onwards — (not to baffle our inquiries, but to strengthen, by disciplining, the minds of the inquirers) — amid all the various manifestations of the boundless power of God, there is not, probably, one individual subject fuller of interest alike to the practical, the popular, the scientific, or the poetical mind, than the natural history of the Honey-Bee. To men of business engaged in rural pursuits, there is the great ques- tion of profit to be considered ; to those who look merely on the surface of things for amuse- ment, there is the spectacle presented of an insect community, constituted under a regular govern- ment, and exhibiting various social phenomena, which are not the less atractive that they are but partially understood ; the man of science sees involved in the life of bees some of the most perplexing but attractive problems that can pos- sibly engage his attention within the wide circle of created being ; whilst to all in whom the poetical or idealising faculty exists, tliere is the additional interest derived in part from the habits of the bees themselves, and partly from the attention paid to them by the great human masters of " the art divine," who, from the days of Virgil, down to those of Shakspere and Milton, have loved them, aye, and understood them too in essentials, and have, in loving them, given the bees a new claim to the love and attention of all other men. The picture of a bee-kingdom, which Shakspere has drawn in the following lines, has the precision of a natura- list, united to the fancy of a poet, and the wisdom of a philosopher : — " Sn work the honey-bees, Creatures that by a rule in nature, teach The art of order to a peopled kingdom. They have a king, and officers of sorts, Where some, like magistrates, correct at home. Others, like merchants, venture trade aljroad. Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds ; Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent royal of their emjjeror: Who, busied in his majesties, surveys The singing masons building roofs of gold ; The civil citizen kneading up the honey ; The poor mechanic porters crowding in Their heavy burthens at his narrow gate ; The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum. Delivering o'er to executors' pale The lazy, yawning drone." We are told that a bee-student of ancient times, Aristomachus, of Soli, in Cilicia, devoted nearly his whole time and thoughts to bees for sixty years; and that another, Philiscus, the Thracian, spent his days regularly in the woods in order to investigate them in their natural condi- tion. These were evidently bee enthusiasts. Among the more moderate but earnest students of ancient times, may be briefly named, Aristotle, upon whose obser- vations Virgil has mainly based his fourth Georgic, Pliny, and Columella, who is esteemed the most accurate among these early observers. In modern times, the study appears to have assumed an altogether more definite and scientific shape in the hands of such men as Swammerdam, Maraldi, the supposed inventor of glass hives, our own pro- foundly philosophic Ray, Reaumur, Schirach, John Hunter, who first discovered the true origin of wax, and, above all, Huber, who is especially the high -priest of this particular altar in the great temple of science. We know not whether the inquiring spirit of Aristomachus or Philiscus exists among us at pre- sent, but certainly the name of those who aspire to teach the economy of bee-management is Legion. In Cotton's My Bee-Book, there is a list of other people's bee-books, to the number of about one hundred and twenty-five distinct pub- lications. One conclusion may no doubt be safely drawn from this fact — either to the mind or to the pocket, the subject is found profitable. We trust to show in the present paper, that it may be both to the readers of the Fanner's Library. And as tl'ie knowledge of the natural habits of the bee is the only trustworthy foundation of the artificial ones we must, to some extent, impose upon them in servitude, let us begin with the former. We shall say little of the more technical points of the study, and, we hope, use none of its jargon ; but having stated that the honey-bee is one of the species Apis, and forms, with the other species of bees, of which there are some two hundred and fifty in England alone, the order Hymenoptera, we shall at once request our readers to imagine them- selves doing what they will find it very pleasant to do in reality, watching the chief operations of a hive through glass walls, with the aid of the most experienced eyes. A swarm, led off by an old queen, has been just housed, in a warm and comfortable straw tene- ment, but it is empty — unprovisioned. Every- thing has to be newly made ; a giant task, but nobody understands better than bees the " philo- sophy of labour," and, as Gay sings, " In the little bulk, a mighty soul appears." So while some go off to the fields to perform the labour allotted to them there, let us see what they N N are doing in the hive. Some are clustering about the top ; and now they fix themselves to the roof by the fore-legs, while the hinder-legs hang down. Upon these other bees suspend themselves, and leave their legs similarly to the disposal of the new-comer, and thus a ladder is rapidly formed, reaching at last to the very bottom of the hive. To facilitate operations, and perhaps strengthen as well as elaborate their scalTolding, they also hang themselves in festoons, each end attached to the roof ; and before the actual commencement of labours, there is a series of such festoons formed, so that the bee-workmen may ascend and descend in every direction. The entire weight of this living staircase is borne by the individual bees at the top, and cheerfully borne, too. Sydserff (re- printed in Cotton) says they will suffer their legs to be disjointed before they will let go their hold. Such is the patriotism of the hive. And now the bee-architect steps forth. Great bee ! it is his glorious task to shape out the design of the first combs, and to lay, as it were, the first stone of the structure ; tasks always per- formed by a single bee. But he must have materials, and, lo, the obedient and industrious explorers of the country return to bring it to him in rapid and uninterrupted succession. They arrive, each mounts the ladder, extracts with its hind feet a plate of wax from under one of its eight scales (or pockets), where it was secreted, raises it to the mouth, turns it round under the cutting edge of the jaws (thus obtaining the effect of a capital circular saw), and so the whole is divided into fragments. A frothy liquor is then formed on it from the tongue, and the mixture assumes the aspect of a plastic but tenacious sub- stance, white and opaque ; and in that state is handed to the bee-architect, who at once com- mences the construction of the comb, while the labourer goes on with the preparation of the remainder of the scales, and then hurries off to collect fresh supplies. This labourer belongs to the wax-workers' class. The architect commences his work : first, ho constructs a block in the centre of and upon the roof, of the shape here shown, and which measures nearly half an inch in length, about one sixth of an inch in height, and only a twenty-fourth part of an inch in thickness. All this while, another set of bee-artisans, the sculpturers, are waiting impatiently to begin. No sooner do they see room enough to introduce their Fig. 1. Fig. 2. Fig. 3. TUT" "I IP^ The front, side, and back views of the block on which the first excavations for the cells are made. Fig. 5. Fig. 4. Front view magnified. Fig. 5. Transverse section through hat smaller bodies between the wax-workers than they commence operations on the compara- tively nide block thus prepared for them. First one partially hollows out a cell on one side, adding to the edges, at the same time, whatever he excavates (see the round part in fig. 1). Presently two others are busy excavating on the other side (see the double circle in fig. 3), in such a position that the line between them exactly corresponds with the centre of the first cell. And now observe the wonderful skill of the bees. The cells do not re- main, as shown in the transverse section, fig. 5, of a semicircular shape. The bees are aware that would cause an unnecessary expenditure of wax, decrease the available space of the hive, and probably interfere with that perfect ventilation, or at least purity of air, which they obtain by methods that surpass our skill to find out, much less rival. " From some eudiometrical experiments it has been ascertained that the air of a well-stocked hive is as pure as that by which it is sun-ounded."* So the bees, working to a perfect plan laid down for them by their architect, obtain a perfect result. By gradually cutting away all superfluous wax in the semicircles first formed, in the direction of the faint dotted lines, fig. 5, the walls become straight, and eventually the cells of two tiers present the aspect here shown : Fig. 6. It will be seen that the back cells must neces- sarily be of the same shape to fit exactly into • Dr. Bevan's Honcy-Bee. The best bee-book, on the whole published in England. 607 these, and the same with those below. Every wall is the wall of two cells, each roof also a floor, and each floor also a roof. The first tiers conse- quently are pentagonal, or five-sided, the roof to which they are attached being straight, whilst all the other tiers below are hexagonal, or six-sided, their top being the two planes that form the bottom of the upper tier. Each cell is thus surrounded by six others. The cells lie nearly horizontal, their mouths being a little elevated, and opening upon the street, or passage, which the bee-architect leaves on each side of every comb. Such is the general construction of the cells. Whilst this first block is thus being deposited in a straight line across the roof of the hive, and hollowed out into cells as fast as it is deposited, and the work also continues downwards towards the floor of the hive, other blocks, or combs, are commenced parallel with it, divided only from it and from each other by the streets just mentioned, which are about half an inch broad. And so the work will proceed until the hive is filled with comb. Look- ing down upon the lines of combs in a completed hive, they would present the shape here shown (fig. 7), presuming the irregularity in the centre did not exist. And why does that irregularity Fig. 7. the place of the sixth comb, then resumed their straight forward course. Next, working from the opposite end of the fourth or interrupted comb, they advanced to the interruption and stopped, and so the space there was duly filled up. Then they filled up the unused part of the space that belong- ed to the fifth comb, which had been so irregularly intruded upon, by a similar short line, and the general arrangement of the hive was scarcely less perfect than ordinary. Here again (fig. 8) is another case of interruption. The bees apparently exist? The answer to this question forms one of the many proofs of the weakness of the theory which attempts to divide by strictly defined im- passable barriers the faculties of bees, under the name of instinct, from the reason which guides our- selves. Between bee-reason and man's reason a space " wide as the poles asunder " may exist, but taking Dr. Bevau's definition that reason is the power of making deductions from previous ex- perience or obsei-vation, and thereby adapting means to ends, whilst instinct is the power to per- form certain actions in an uniform manner, with- out reference to either observation or experience, then it is certain that in every department of bee- economy we find innumerable examples of the former. The irregularity shown above is a case in point. A stick was in the way of the fourth comb from the left, so the bees deviated to the right into found themselves compelled to giva such a winding course to the first comb that they could not do better than exactly imitate its shape for all the others ; and ho\V beautiful is the result ! Inge- nious persons, no doubt, undertake to explain these and a thousand other anomalies in accordance with the theoiy of instinct ; but it is strange that they do not perceive that the effect of their reason- ing is to show that instinct can do all that reason does, and therefore one or the other, as a distinct quality, must be unnecessary. The above cases refer to the first erection of the bees' home. Let us give an illustration of their power of dealing with accidents in the hive. Dr. Bevan tells us, "A very striking illustration of the reasoning power of bees occurred to my friend Mr. Walond. Inspecting his bee-boxes at the end of October, 1817, he perceived that a centre comb, burthened with honey, had separated from its attachments, and was leaning against another comb, so as to prevent the passage of the bees between them. This accident excited great activity in the colony, but its nature could not be ascertained at the time. At the end of a week, the weather being cold and the bees clustered together, Mr. W. observed through the window of the bos that they had constructed two horizontal pillars betwixt the combs alluded to, and had removed so much of the honey and wax. from the top of each as to allow the passage of a bee : in about ten days more there was an unintermpted thoroughfare — the detached comb at its upper part had been 608 secured by a strong barrier, and fastened to the ■window with the spare wax. This being accom- plished, the bees removed the horizontal pillars first coustnicted, as being of no further use." But the bees wait not for the completion of their grand palace to use it ; as soon as a few cells are ready, in come the honey bearers. Each makes his way to a finished chamber, goes as deep into it as he can, opens a hole with his feet in the cream-like crust which the bees have formed for the defence of the honey, and so discharges the honey into the cell through his open mouth. His burden gone, off he flies ; others take his place ; drop by drop the cell is filled, and then closed so perfectly that the honey will remain good in them for many years. But all the honey thus brought home is not stored. The bringers have been feeding themselves while collecting, but the poor hard-work- ing artisans in the hive have nothing to eat, unless they cease their labours and stop the great work of the hive ; that they will not do ; so the others attend to them with the greatest care and affection. They go to them, they open their mouths (the tempo- rary honey store-house), the hungry, tired workers of the hive put in their proboscis exactly as they would do into a flower, and so eat. This pro- boscis is too interesting a piece of vital mechanism to be passed by with only an indirect mention. So let us first show it greatly magnified, as in the accompanying engraving (fig. 9), and then examine it a little in detail. Though the parts of which the proboscis is composed are so minute as to be scarcely visible to the unassisted eye, yet they are far more complex than the mighty elephant's trunk. The proboscis consists of no less than five dis- tinct branches ; namely, a central trunk, or tongue, and four homy scales, tapering to a point, convex outwards, and concave towards the tnink. The two outer ones so sheath the inner, as to appear but one single tube. By a joint in the middle they bend or extend all at once, carrying with them the unarticulated tongue, which is cylin- drical, and about the size of a human hair, and appears through a magnifier to be composed of successive rings. It has probably as many short muscles as the tongue of a fish, which are capable of moving it in all directions, and towai-ds its tei-- mination is furnished with hairs, or villi, some of which at the point are very long, and seem to act like capillary tubes. Mr. Wildman assures us that he has seen the trunk growing bigger and less by turns, swelling the instant the bee sucked, and this alternate lessening and enlargement pro- pagated from the extremity to the root. What a delicate apparatus of invisible muscles must per- form this oflice. The tongue is capable of being contracted and folded up at pleasure, for if it were constantly extended, it would be exposed to injury. When at rest, therefore, it is doubled up by means of its joint, and lies in a very small compass; the first portion being brought within the lip, and the second part folded under the head and neck, protection is given to it by a double sheath, consisting of four strong scales, the two inner scales sheathing the tongue, and the two outer and larger ones encompassing the whole. When at work, the trunk is lengthened beyond its sheaths, probes the very bottom of the flowers, through all impediments of foliage or fructification, and drains them of those treasured sweets which without such an apparatus would be completelyinaccessible. The proboscis of the bee is not used like that of other tlies, not being tubular like theirs, but serves as a brush or besom to sweep, or as a tongue to lap. Having collected the nectar of flowers in small drops, it deposits its collection upon the tongue, which is protruded for the purpose of receiving it, and haviug received it, withdrawn again.* Whilst honey is thus being collected for the present nourishment of the workers in the hive, and for future supply in case of need (observe, the sealed stores are never touched except in periods of real distress among the community), another important department of the commissariat of the hive is attended to in a no less exemplary manner. There will be young ones in the hive by-and-bye ; how are they to be fed? " Why, with bee-bread, to be sure," answers some old nurse-bee of the hive ; and so having, we may suppose, received their instructions, the bees set out to collect pol- len as well as honey, fi'om wherever they can find it. . If you watch the bees as they return to the hive, you will scarcely see one of them without a little ball or pellet of farina on each of its hinder- legs, at the part marked d in the accompanying * Dr. Evans, in Sevan's Honexj-Bee. GO 9 engraving [fig. 10]. These balls are invariably of Fig. 10. The hinder leg of the Worker-bee ; a, the part on which the pollen is eanied. the same colours as the anther-dust of the flower in which these luxurious little rogues have been I'olling; there can be no doubt, therefore, that it is of this substance, after it has been used for the repro- duction of vegetable life, that the bees take pos- session, to assist in the rearing of their infantine insect life : another instance of the economj' that exists amidst all the profuse wealth of the natural world. Well, the little pollen-bearers come back to the hives ; there they are met by the expectant nurses, who take part of the pollen from them and devour it, but not for themselves, it is only laid by for the future use of the larvfe. As to the rest, watch that bee yonder ; after the nurse has done with her, she is looking for a cell, making a noise all the while with her wings to call her brethren around her. On reaching the cell, with at least one attendant, she balances herself firmly on the edge with her middle and hind legs, whilst with the fore legs (her arms and hands) she seizes the farina, drops it into the cell, and leaves the attendant bee to knead it into the bottom and var- nish it over, whilst she flies back to " fresh fields and pastures new." There is yet another substance formed in those wonderful little chemical workshops, the bees' bodies, ^)-o/>oZ(s, which is of a resinous nature, and derives its name from its uses. Propolis signifies before the city ; the Greeks having observed that it was used by the bees to strengthen the outworks of their city. It is with propolis the combs (or the blocks out of which they are constructed) are fastened to the roof of the hive. It is with propolis the bees defend themselves from catching cold or rheuma- tism through draughts, by stopping up every crevice into their hive, no matter how minute, so that one only opening shall exist, the proper legitimate entrance. M. Reaumur once thought proper to fasten the glass of a hive with pasted paper, in a careless manner, before putting in a swarm. Just as he had antii-ipated, the bees fnuid out his un- workmanlike conduct, and contemptuously tearing away with their teeth the trumpery defence lie had put, they made all firm and taut, as the sailors say, with good solid propolis. Once an unlucky shell-less slug crept into a hive. After having settled him with their stings, the bees var- nished liim carefully over with this same propolis, to prevent his becoming unpleasant in the dog- days. Another, confiding apparently in his impe- netrable shell, an impudent, idle, yet honey-loving snail, thinking to plunder their stores, appeared on the threshold of their dormitoiy — to learn, alas ! most unexpectedly, a new use for this wonderful composition ; the bees actually glued him down to the ground, at the edges of his armour, as firm and immoveable as a rock, before he had time even to explain that he was but looking in, and intended to go back again instantly. The mansion thus in process of erection, the storehouses thus being rapidly filled, the great mysteries of life and reproduction begin to evolve their wondrous phenomena. In our respect for the wisdom of some of our ancestors, we cannot but transcribe their theory of the propagation of bees. We have said " theory," but that is hardly the right word ; for the follow- ing " experiment of the generation of bees " was, it appears, ''practised by that great husbandman of Cornwall, old Mr. Carew, of Anthony." Thus run the directions: — "Take a calf, or rather a sturk (steer), of a year old, about the hrtter end of April, bury it eight or ten days till it begin to putrify and corrupt ; then take it forth of the earth, and opening it, lay it under some hedge or wall where it may be most subject to the sun ; by the heat whereof it will (a great part of it) turn into maggots, which (without any other care) will live upon the remainder of the corruption. After a while, ivheii they begin to have wings, the whole putrified carcase should be carried to a place pre- pared where the hives stand ready, to which, being perfumed with honey and sweet herbs, the maggots, after they have received their wings, will resort." This, it appears, was a practical man's method of proceeding to stock his hives. Need we, then, wonder that the ancient poet, whose guidance he was (perhaps unwittingly) following, Virgil, who has given similar directions, only more poetically expressed, in his fourth Georgic ; need we wonder that the poet should take on trust in his day, what " that great husbandman of Cornwall" would recommend to others, after trial, in his day, so many centuries later ? Let us now see if we cannot trace, with tolerable clearness, nature's own method of proceeding. It is not easy to fol- low the operations of the bees duiing the incidents we are about to describe, but patient observers have succeeded in doing so ; and with their aid, then, N N 010 let us again turn our eyes inwards upon the hive. Behold the queen-bee, attended by her guard of some dozen bees, moving slowly and with regal dignity among her subjects. You cannot mistake her for an instant, even if you did not see how the way opened for her movements, how all the heads of the workers are inclined towards her as she moves, and how fondly they caress her with their antennae in passing ; for she is in person every (fraction of an) inch a queen, and bears the stamp of sovereignty upon her in most legible characters. She is larger than any of her subjects, as well as more elegant in her form. The abdomen, espe- cially, is much longer than in the bees around her ; the wings much shorter, and the legs and an- tennae of a paler colour. The respective appearances of the queen, the worker (or lioney-collector, whether known by the name of wax-worker, or sculpturer, or nurse- bee), and the di'one, of whom we shall speak by- and-bye, are shown in the accompanying sketch. The three descriptions of Bees of a hive, a, the Male or Drone ; 6. ihe NcnliT or Worker ; c, the Female or Queen.— The lines denote the natural length of each. Look again into the hive. The queen is about to commence her maternal labours in the deposi- tion of eggs ; from which are to issue the future community, or possibly half-a-dozen communities. To shut out from prynigeyes, and invest the whole affair with the solemnity and splendour befitting the occasion, a living curtain is formed impene- trable to all but the most patient, skilful, and for- tunate eyes. The bees attach themselves to each other in the mode before pointed out; but then the object was to form a ladder — now it is a screen required. So they connect themselves into a dense mass, a perfect " grape-like cluster, or living gar- land." This is done with such wonderful skill and ease, that bees can fly oif from the cluster, even from its very centre, without exciting confu- sion in the group. The strength of the topmost bees is here shown even more strikingly than in the formation of the ladder ; the bees at the top have, in these moveable clusters, nothing to take hold of to enable them to support the weight of their comrades, and appear to need nothing. Pos- sibly, as Mr. Wildman supposes, they may possess some power of distension, and so, like fishes, buoy themselves up. Thus attended, and amid all the rejoicings of her subjects, the queen proceeds to a cell, thrusts her head into it to see if it be quite as it ought to be, which of course it is among such zealous and industrious housewives, then turning, she inserts her abdomen, leaves an egg in an upright position, fixed by a glutinous matter, and moves on to repeat the operation in another cell. The fecundity of the queen pa>rtakes almost of the miraculous. Huber speaks of 200 eggs daily been laid ; Schirach, of 100,000 in a season ; whilst a correspondent of the Gardeners Chro- nicle has had queens that have laid 1,000 a-day for three months in succession. During a considerable period the eggs of workers alone are deposited, or, in other words, eggs are deposited in the cells for the worker bees only, which form the great mass of the cells, as the workers form the great bulk of the bee com- munity. But after a certain time the queen be- gins to lay eggs in the cells of the drones, wiiich are larger and more substantial than the cells of the workers, and later built. Their position is generally near the bottom of the combs. And now, by what mysterious law is it that twenty days after these drone-cells receive their eggs, from which are to spring the males of the future com- munity, the worker bees begin the erection of a still more stately species of cell for the deposition of the eggs that are to become queens, and to be fertilized by the said drones. Who can tell ? These royal cells show how little of mere routine or slavish adherence to instinct guides the bees. They differ in their numbers in different hives, from three or four, to twelve or thirteen ; they are situated frequently at the sides of the combs ; 611 but are also found in the very centre, standing erect lilve a queenly jjalace, near two inches high, and erected with a most loyal disregard of all those habits of economy which the bees show in so striking a manner in their meaner erections. Thus, for instance, they will use as much wax to build one of the royal cradles, as would suffice for a hundred of the others. The form of the royal cell is not uulike that of a pear suspended perpendicularly, with the sides or walls full of holes. For four days the egg of the worker-bee re- mains apparently unchanged. But the vital prin- ciple is at work within, and at the appointed time, on the fifth day, a small white worm, with several ventral rings, appears at the bottom of each cell. Tills increases in size, noui'ished probably by the ■whitish ti-ansparent fluid in which it floats, until its extremities touch the sides of the cell, when they curve, and the extremities begin to approach each other, until they almost form a ring. The nurse-bees now come to feed it with beebread ; the little worm — larva — maggot, or grub (for by all these names it is known), opens its lateral pincers, and the precious morsels are eagerly devoured. Eeaumur supposes that this bee-bread is no longer what it at first was, farina merely, but that it is mixed in the stomach of the nursing-bees with honey and water. He even thinks the nurse-bees can alter the relative strength, as it were, of this mixture, to suit the strong or more delicate stomachs of the nurslings, as they are more or less advanced in growtli. We shall see, by-and-bye, they can not only do this, but have important ol)jects to attain in so doing. The larvte soon show the effects of such good feeding, by nearly filling up the whole space of their cells. That is the signal for a new operation. The nursing-bees now seal up the cells with a light-brown cover. No more luxurious feeding at present. The larva must begin to work. It is the lot of all, bees as well as men. Happily for the bees, they seem never to have any doubt, or to make any fuss, about their " mission," strange, and wonderful, and beautiful as are the operations 'they have to perform. To live, to know their work, and to do it, are with them convertible propositions. The larva now begins to line the cell with a silky film, alternately shortening and lengthening its body in the process. This silky threail proceeds from the middle part of the under lip, and is composed of two threads gummed together as they issue from the two adjoining orifices of the spinner. The larva then encloses itself in a cocoon, after the fashion of the silk-worm, and looks not very uu- like an Egyptian mummy in its swaddling-clothes. This process completed, in about thirty-six hours, it is no longer a larva, but a pupa or nymph. At last comes the hour of true birth, when the young imago, as it is now called, shall breath the pure air of the external world, and bask in the rays of the golden sunshine. On the twenty-first day after the deposition of the eggs, the young ones, of a gi'ayish colour, may occasionally be seen in front of the hive, undergoing the process of purification at the hands of the nurse-bees. Some days elapse before the young worker-bees and drones can Hy. As to the queen, special provision is made, as we shall see presently. The accom- panying engraving illustrates the changes we have described. Fig. 13. 3 n, tlie egg ; i, the ttle liead of the c, tlie pupa of the worker-bee ; and d, ugnitied. The people thus rapidly coming into existence, where are its future governors ? Watch the old queen as the spring advances, the period when all these changes are at their climax, and you will be more than ever astonished at the wondrous phenomena of the bee-mind. See how restlessly she runs about. No.v she seems about to go on hiyiucr eggs, but hurriedly withdraws without doing so. No wonder she is agitated. She is about to abdicate ; not about to lay down the cares and glory of sovereignty, certainly; but about to quit her established, and peaceable, quiet kingdom, to go she knows not whither, with a part of her subjects, exposed to she knows not what accident before she may again find herself by her com- forial)le, regal, warm comb (her fire) sirle. But she N N 2 iI2 respects the laws of nature, and obeys tliem. In those cells -which she runs over in so much agita- tion, lurks her successor, waiting hut for the proper hour to ascend the throne. How easily she could tear open the cells and destroy her. But a power greater than ambition withholds her. The bees no longer pay her their usual attention. An idea of divided allegiance seems troubling them. They get as excited as their queen. Some ter- rible calamity — civil war, perhaps — impends. Oh, no ! tlie bees are at once too sensible and too unsel- fish. They divide — perliaps take leave of each other affectionately, and off goes the first swarm, led by their reluctant but duty-obeying monarch. But bees colonise — not merely emigrate. It is not merely the young surplus population that are compelled to go forth, but, on the contrary, a mix- ture of bees of all ages, and, no doubt, of all con- ditions. They do not rush away from home careless of what becomes of them when abroad. They don't trust to bee-gossip of the advantages of this place, or the disadvantages of that ; and find out too late how absurd they have been. No, they send out scouts to examine the face of the country, and make them proper reports. Would one could look at a few of the bee " blue-books. " As this fact of the scouts has been doubted by some of the bee-men, who seem to think the only way to understand these insects, is to think as meanly as possible of their capacity, we may observe that the following cases are given by Dr. Bevan on the authority of one of the most accurate and profound of observers, Mr. Knight, from a paper published in the Philosophical Transactions, in the form of a letter to Sir Joseph Banks. " On one occasion he observed from twenty to thirty bees paying daily visits to some decayed trees, about a mile distant from his garden ; the bees appeared to be busily employed in examining the hollow parts, and particularly the dead knots around them, as if apprehensive of the knots admitting moisture. In about fourteen days these seeming surveyors were followed by a large swarm from his apiary, which was watched the whole way, till it alighted in one of these cavities. It was observed to journey nearly in a direct line from the apiary to the tree. On several similar occasions the bees selected that cavity which Mr. Knight thought best adapted to their use." He noticed at another time that a tree, after having been ex- amined and apparently approved of, was deserted in favour of a hive ; a circumstance he attributes to long hereditary habits of domestication. That they do prefer such homes appears tolerably clear, for they will flock to them under unpromising cir- cumstances, such, for instance, as the hive in question being strewed over with dead bees. But probably the bees know perfectly well how to estimate the value of such an alarming-looking spectacle ; and can accurately determine whether it was owing to any peculiar defects in the hive, or simply to some one or other of those ills to which bees are heir. Mr. Grant, the author of some very interesting papers on bees in the Gardener's Chronicle, witnessed their operations in a case of this kind. " In a quarter of an hour from their taking possession, they were observed busily em- ployed bringing out the dead bees, small fragments of honeycomb, dead insects, and other dirt; and by the middle of the following day a little conical heap of their cleansings was to be seen on the ground in front of the hive ; before night well loaded labourers were seen entering to repair the dilapidations, and refurnish the empty cells." The swarm once re-settled in their new habitation, their labours begin with the construction of the comb in the mode we have already described in the preceding pages. But the round of the yearly phenomena in the old hive is not yet completed. We must see what passes in the hive after the departure of the first swarm or colony, which generally takes place in the morning, or middle of the day, when a great number of the bees are abroad, collecting honey. Stirring news for them to receive as they return to the hive ! However, there is no time for lamen- tation ; no good in disorder. So, gradually, quiet is restored. And then we may see the nurse-bees once more at work, engaged not only in tending the ordinary young, but in what may be called the culminating point of their annual labours, the helping forth into the world the royal scions, and from which they will supply their own queenless realm. They accordingly scrape away from one of the royal cells the wax that has been so lavishly bestowed upon it. Doubt not but they know which is the right one, that is to say, where lies the oldest of the young unborn queens. And here is exhibited another remarkable example of the bee-provision. The eggs in the royal cells were all laid with an interval of at least a day between each. Now that they are coming to maturity accordingly, they come not altogether, but in due succession, by which means the bees, as we shall see, have time to know how many of them they shall want, and be able to provide accordingly. In due time the royal pupa within obeys the stirring in- fluences that call upon her to burst her cerement, and she would at once emerge into perfect life, but that the nurse-bees, who keep watch and ward over her, knowing what is good for her better than she does herself as yet, immediately solder over the top of the cell with wax, and keep her prisoner for about two days. Why? In order, evidently, that she may not, like the other young bees, be unable to fly when she emerges from the hive. And this is not left to guess-work. The bees know accurately when she is prepared, and most 613 likely, by means of the quality or nature of the sounds she emits, which to man's grosser ears come in the shape of a number of monotonous notes, so r.ipidly repeated as almost to combine into one continuous sound. At last she comes forth in her perfect beauty and power. What an hour is that for the bees; especially for those indefatigable, careful, admirable, model-matrons and housewives, the nurse-bees ! We envy Mr. Grant the pleasure he once enjoyed of " having an excellent view of the young queen, about two inches above the entrance, enjoying and cleaning herself, and re- ceiving great attentions from her subjects." But it is in every sense a spring season, with its changeable weathers and moods. The young queen learns — how, we wish some one would tell us — that there are other young queens, successors and pos- sible rivals, in the hive. She, too, grows e.tcited, whilst, unlike the old queen, she knows not what to do between conflicting impulses. She rushes to the cells — she will tear them open — she will sting the tenants to death — she will — but no ; the cells are powerfully guarded, it is for the com- munity to determine in a legitimate mode how these vast questions are to be dealt with ; they warn her away ; they bite her if she resists. She would even be in danger, but that, in case of extremity, she is in possession of some magical words (we tell no fairy-tale) that in an instant render the sentinels motionless. But if, taking advantage of this calm, she again approaches the forbidden ground, they recover themselves, and, in military phrase, do their,' duty. Huber witnessed this most interesting scene more than once. He describes the young queen at such a time as stand- j ing with her thorax against a comb, and crossing I her wings upon her back, keeping them in motion, | but not unfolding them, whilst she emitted the I dread mysterious sounds, which were responded to by the weaker and hoarser cries of the yet pent-up unborn queens that she seeks to destroy. And what is it the bees want her to do, but learn the lesson bequeathed to her by her predecessor — leave the hive with another colony, and relinquish the rights of sovereignty over the parent community in favour of one of her helpless sisters. And so, at last, she departs, and a second colony is speedily in course of establishment. Possibly a third, and yet a fourth, and a fifth, may follow ; the number of swarms being determined, no doubt, in ordinary circumstances, by the number of the bees, and the heat of the hive. But when the last swarm has departed, and the number of the inhabitants so lessened that the guards of the royal cells can no longer preserve their efficiency, the remaining young queens emerge as they please, two or three at a time, and civil war. alas 1 does at last take place. But what an admirable mode of making civil war it is. It is the monaixhs who fight, auJ who are but few in number, and must, therefore, soon bring the contest to an end ; it is the bee- people that look on, quite content to pay allegiance to the conqueror. Of course no bee-subject can thus be in danger, by espousing the wrong side, of losing his property, or his rank, or have his temper exasperated by defeat and humiliation ; the contest affects none of these things. Let us, too , watch the contest. Two young aspirants for the throne are meeting ; they rush at each other ; each seizes with her teeth the antennae of her rival ; they cling in mortal combat so close together that head, belly, and breast are mutually opposed. But nature has made them aware of their value, or possible value, supposing there were no other incipient sovereigns in the hive ; and of the danger of instant death to both, should they in that position launch at each other the fatal dart. So they separate by a tacit mutual consent, and would apparently leave the combat to be determined at some other time. But that will not do for the bees. They can stand no shilly-shallying in the matter. They must and will know who is to be their ruler. Is government to stand still because the would-be governors are cowards? Certainly not. So the rivals are again driven together into the area, no matter how often the queens seek lo evade the mortal issue, until at last the stronger one seizes the other by the wing, curls her extre- mities under the body, and inflicts the death-pang. She is now unquestioned mistress of the hive. Live succeeds to war. The Amazon of the hour changes, for an equally brief period, to the tender virgin, whom many aspire to woo and win. Higli in the air, where no eyes may follow, the drones prepare her nuptial couch. B.'fore she ascends, she looks carefully around her, perhaps to assure herself against prying eyes, perhaps to know her own kingdom again, of which she has yet had so little experience. A few coy half-flights now take place, as though her mind misgave her, aiid, at last, she rises, describing in her flight large horizontal circles, until she is beyond the ken of human eyes. She returns in about half an hour, and so ends her brief time of love. Henceforward she is the queen and the mother (literally) of her people, and exhibits accordingly, ever afterwards, the gravity and decorum suitable to her exalted position. A sad busines remains behind. The post of queen's favourite has always been an honour of dubious value, often of tragic ending, even among mankind : with bees it is truly a f;ital destiny. No sooner is the business of swarming ended, and tha worker-bees satisfied there will be no lack of fertile queens, than issues the terrible edict for the massacre of the drones. Poor fellows ! It is to be hoped they comfort themselves with the reflec- tion that their f ite is an everlasting homily, pre- 614 sented l\y nature in dogmatical but most effective fasliion. of the uselessness of all who labour not for their living. If one must die for the good of ones kind, by all means let it be as a martyr. Poor fellows f how they dart in and out, and up and down the hive, in the vain hope of escape. The workers are inexorable. Huber tells us the latter plant their stings so deeply— for the most part between the segments of the abdomen— that they cannot extricate themselves without turning as upon a pivot. The cruelty apparent in the fiei'ceness of the attack is perhaps only kindness, for the wound is immediately fatal : the drones ex- pand their wings, and die. The instrument of all this slaughter, the sting, is certainly one of the most beautiful and perfect weapons in creation. Look at the edge of a razor, at a needle's point, and a bee's sting, under the microscope, and then perhaps some idea of its exquisite character may dawn upon the mind. Whilst the razor-edge looks like the back of a stout knife, villainously made, too blunt and uneven to cleave a billet of wood ; whilst the point of the needle appears to be some quarter of an inch broad, and of irregular shape, full of holes and scratches, the sting shows every- where the most consummate workmanship, ending in a point too fine to be discovered. Yet this penetrates instantly the comparatively thick skin of a man's hand. And this again is but the scabbard or sheath of still more delicate instru- ments, namely, two bearded darts. The sting acts thus : — When the bee is about to sting, the sheath is first thrust in to make an opening ; then follows one of the darts, penetrating a little farther into the flesh, and holding by the four beards on its outer- side ; then the other makes a still farther advance, and so they progress alternately until they acquire a firm hold of the offending body. Lastly, there issues into the wounds thus made, a poison from two glands at the base of the sheath. As Paley has justly observed, " the machinery would have been ineffective without the rankling poison ; the poison could not have been used unless some opening were made for it : a striking example, indeed, of the union of chemistry and mechanism." The ordinary tenor of the bees' unwritten con- stitution regarding the succession to the throne having been thus indicated, there remains to ask what do they do in case of accident, supposing their queen to be lost or dead, and no other young queens forthcoming from the ruyal cells ? Tliis is perhaps, even among so many interesting phe- nomena as bees afford, the most interesting of all. And first, let us ask how they know when a queen is lost? Of course if she is lying dead before them, they can at once perceive the extent of their calamity, and very touching is the mournful respect they pay to her deceased body. But how is it that in a hive, say of twenty thousand bees, the whole are in a state of profound agitation very soon after her abstraction ? It has been said, that if they do not touch her ^-ith their antennae occa- sionally they at once conclude she is lost. But surely it is not meant to say that twenty thousand bees can be for ever touching the queen in endless and due rotation in order to be satisfied of her presence? Clearly the bees have a language. Look at the many incidents already narrated, for which some kind of language appears indispensable, and without which we cannot imagine their trath. Indeed, there is not one of them in which the supposition of a power of rapid communication from one to many does not seem involved. Huber's experiment showed, we think, that the bees have a language, and that the antennae form the organ. He divided the bees of a hive into two portions — so that no physical communication could take place. The bees, -where the queen was not, soon grew agitated, and after waiting a due time, three or four hours usually, evidently said to themselves, " Our queen is lost ; let us make another," and set to work accordingly. How, we shall show pi-esently. Huber then repeated the experiment, but opened a commuiiication through a grating wide enough for the antennce to pass through. All remained perfectly quiet. Every bee's loyal heart remained placid and content. Kow how could this happen except in one or other of these three modes ? The queen must have come to the grating, and remained there while every one of the bees in the sundered portion came and touched her with his antennoB ; or the bees knew positively -from each other there was nothing the matter ; or lastly, and this is the most rational supposition, they took it for granted, as we do, when we hear nothing about om>- gracious sovereign, that all went well. But if, on the contrary, the bees hear the terrible news that their queen is missing, that no one knows where she is, or when she will return — what do the poor distracted crea turesdo? Shakspere says — " The Commons, like aB angry hive of bees That want Uieir leader, se utter up and down, And care not whom they bting." Bees' loyalty is no lip loyalty. Dearly do they love her, and, so far as they can, protect her. Dr. Warder tested this, somewhat cruelly but most decisively. " Having shaken on the grass all the bees from a hive which they had only tenanted the day before, he searched for the queen by stirring amongst them with a stick. Having found and placed her, with a few attendants, in a box, she was taken into his parlour, where the box being opened, she and her attendants immediately flew to the window, when he clipped off one of her wings, returned her to the box, and confined her there for above an hour. In less than a quarter of 615 an hour the swarm ascertained the loss of their queen, and, instead of cUistering together in one social mass, they diffused themselves over a space of several feet, were much agitated, and uttered a piteous sound. An hour afterwards, they all took flight, and settled upon the hedge where they had first alighted after leaving the parent stocli ; but instead of hanging together like a bunch of grapes, as when the queen was with them, and as swarms usually hang, they extended themselves thirty feet along the hedge, in small bunches of forty, fifty, or more. The queen was now presented to them, when they all quietly gathered round her, with a joyful hum, and formed one harmonious cluster. At night the Doctor hived them again, and on the following morning repeated his experiment, to see whether the bees would rise. The queen being in a mutilated state, and unable to accompany them, they surrounded her for several hours, apparently willing to die with her rather than desert her in distress. Tiie queen was a second time removed, when they spread themselves out again, as though seirching for her. Her repeated restoration to them, at different parts of their circle, produced one uniform result; and these poor, loyal, and loving creatures always marciied and counter- marched every way as the queen was laid! Toe Doctor persevered in these experiments, till, after five days and niglits of fasting, they all died of famine, except the queen, who lived a few hours longer, and then died. The attachment of the queen to the working-bees appeared to be equally as strong as their attachment to her ; though offered honey on several occasions during the period of her separation from them, she constantly refused it, disdaining a life that was no life to her without the company of those which she could not have!" What did Burke mean by saying the age of chivalry was gone ? Had he forgotten the bees ? If a new or strange queen be introduced into ] the hive within two or three hours after they have thus lost the rightful sovereign, she will experience an opposite kind of manifestation of bee-loyalty. However true a queen by nature she may be, she is here a pretender. The bees therefore surround ' her, and starve her to death • they have too much | respect for queens to sting them. So do they check undue monarchical encroachments. On the other hand, if a stranger queen be introduced to tliem some eighteen hours or so after tlie loss of their own, they look upon her very differently. She is a benefactor, and welcomed accordingly. It is true, they are guarded in their first reception ; they treat her as a prisoner for a time, perliaps still hoping their own beloved mistress may yet return, but in the end she receives the adhesion of all. If twenty-four hours have passed since the loss of the ordinary queen, the bees are so de- lighted at the thought of a successor to the vacant throne, that a stranger queen is gladly accepted the instant she presents herself. But supposing no such fortunate accident to counterbalance the unfortunate one, the bees then resort to the wonderful power that has been given to them of — in a sense — making their own queens. Certain larviB, two or three days old, lying in the ordinary cells, and that would in the ordinary course become working-bees, are selected; three of the cells adjoining to each of them are broken down and formed into one ; the nurses bring the royal bee-bread, or " ro3'al jelly," which is of a more stimulating pungent character than the ordinary composition, and give tlie larvae thus royally destined a lavish supply. They then pass through the usual stage of pupa to that of perfect queen. The discoverer, or rather, perhaps, the reviver and promulgator, of this startling meta- morphosis was Sohirach, a clergyman of Little Biutzen; and Iris experiments have been con- firmed by Huber. It has been therefoi'e supposed that the working-bees are undeveloped females But JMr. Pettigrew, a well-known practical apiarist, will not allow the matter to be thus explained away, but makes it even more extraordinary by denying that it is merely the eggs of workers that can be thus metamorphosed. He says—" How startling soever it may seem, liow doubtful soever my friends miy be. I, were I worth a thousand pounds, and given to betting, would wager it all that I would cause the bees to metamorphose all the eggs that a queen may lay into drones exclu- sively ; uay, I would cause them to be metamor- phosed into working bees in March, and into drones in April, and so on alternately, and a few into queens at any time."* This is a point to which it would be well if scientihc men would give renewed attention. x\ll the known facts appear at present to favour Mr Pettigrew's statements. It appears that the bees are occasionally subject to mishaps in the process of development from the egg. On one such occasion, when the larva of a queen was concerned, the incident was marked by some peculiarly interesting phenomena. Keys, the author of a very excellent book entitled ' The Antient Bee-Master's Farewell' (1796) beheld the whole, and thus recorded his observations : — " I saw the workers very busy in demolishing a royal cell, close to the window of a box. It had been sealed up some days ; but continuing so beyond the usual period of" exclusion, I suspected some mischance, and therefore was very intent to ob- serve the result. At five o'clock one morning, the workers were very deeply engaged in opening the side of the cell ; in about two hours they had made a chasm large enough to see the nymph, and which they were endeavouring to pull out, but in vain. They then proceeded to a further enlarge- Gardener's Chronicle, vol. for 1834, p. 501. ment, when the queen, with hasty steps and anx- ious looks, as if angiy at the delay, began herself the arduous task, the workers remaining quiet si^ectators. The queen made several violent tugs to disengage it, but her efforts proved fruitless. She then retired, not without an appearance of displeasure. The workers then renewed their at- tempts, about a dozen at a time, and at intervals ceased to enlarge, while they tried to pull the nymph out, but were still disappointed ; for on pulling the nymyh upwards she was pressed more into the convexity of the top. Four hours were thus employed, when the queen returned, with like demeanour as before, and proceeded with re- doubled efforts to extricate the nymph, but still, unfortunately, with no better success, and finally relinquished the toil with great concern. How- ever, the labourers resumed the task of enlarge- ment from top to bottom, which was not effected till near twelve o'clock ; a business of seven hours to draw the nymph out. It was full-grown, but — dead !" The exjilanation given is, that the season having been bad, the wax was formed too coarsely, and much thicker than usual. The royal pupa was therefore unable to extricate herself at the right time, and not doing so, the bees, knouing that she ought to have appeared, were sure there was some- thing the matter, and did exactly what any other sensible beings (bees or men) would have done, opened it to see, and to aid if not too late. We must now take a slight glance of the more salient points of Bf.e Govebnmekt. The " busy" bee, then, is by no means so busy as he is commonly supposed. He finds time for leisure and relaxation as well as for work. Mr. Grant thinks the bees work in relays for about six hours, and that sleep duly follows labour. Pie says—" I have come to this conclusion from repeated obser- vation, that in proportion to the number leaving at the early hour of five in the morning, nearly an equal number came in to repose at eleven a. m. ; and those that left at later hours in the morning, ceased from their field labours at intervals of about six hours during the day. Those that had re- turned from labour could be easily distinguished from the others that had not been out, as the for- mer occupied particular positions until those that were asleep were awakened, and vacated their place to go on duty, and then the others might be seen taking up their positions, and in a short time afterwards were fast asleep." It is interesting to look in upon the hive when the bees are asleep ; to see the workers, each with its head and thorax in a cell, giving, in the dilatation of the abdomen, the only sign of life ; to mark the queen reposing from the cares of office in the cell of a drone, while the workers form a reverent circle all about her, gently touching her body ; or to speculate when the ' lazy drone" means to break from his apparently interminable nap, lasting eighteen or twenty hours at a time. Regular sentinels guard the entrance to the hive day and night ; and these, says Mr. Grant, are relieved with as great regularity as in military life. Very necessary precautions ! for the bees, like all other wealthy communities, are particu- larly liable to be preyed upon by hosts of enemies. There are the terrible corsair bees, for instance, who, from ill management and insufficient feeding, cease at last to depend upon their own industry, and live solely by plundering the fruits of the industry of others. And, as might be suspected, when bees do turn to bad courses, they do it very effectively. They send out their spies to explore the country around, and to find out which are the weakest hives. The poor Humble Bee is in- famously used by these corsairs. They give him no peace at home or abroad. They strip his hive in his absence, and if they meet him in the fields, they cry, in but too intelligible language, stand and deliver! and ai'e obeyed. The Humble Bee gives all up, and then, when they let him go, de- parts, sadly enough no doubt, but patiently, to collect more honey, and hope for better luck in carrying it home. Then, again, there is the ter- rible death's-head moth (sphinx atropos,) which frightens most men and women who see it for the first time; no wonder, therefore, that bees are alarmed when they find themselves directly sub- ject to its attacks. This moth appears towards the close of summer, and if it makes its way into the hive, commits great ravages. It can, if ne- cessary, when hard pressed loy the bees, emit a shrill mournful ciy, which paralyses the bees. But of course the bees do not submit quietly to all this. No — their military genius now shines forth brilliantlj'. They barricade themselves ; they erect formidable fortifications of the most impreg- nable wax at the entrance of the hive, so that only one or two workers can pass at a time, and the sphinx never. It is worthy of observation, that it is only after they have sufi'ered that they erect these barricades ; and then they only keep them whilst required, and whilst they are productive of no inconvenience. When spring comes, and the enemy is — nowhere — to them at least, they joyfully clear all away to facilitate the important events of the time. Dr. Bevan mentions an anecdote that goes far to show that bees possess memoiy and language. A colony had been attacked in 1804 by the sphinx, and suffered through its tardij pre- parations. In 1807 the moth re-appeared, when the bees immediately constructed fresh ramparts. Now, working bees do not live more than a year at the outside ; therefore the particulars of that awful year must have been conveyed from genera- tion to generation, or the queen must have reigned over the hive from 1804, and have been the means 617 of rousing the community of 1807 to the danger tliej experienced. Language and memory appear equally indispensable in either case. Beside the sj^hinx, the honey moth and the honey.-comb moth attack bees, and more cunningly than the sphinx, as well as more successfully. They are so small, that they can get into the hive sometimes, not- ■nithstanding the vigilance of the guards, and de- posit their eggs in the combs. What a place for a mother to choose I What a chevaux-de-frize, as it were, of stings all about her pretty ones ! It matters not, however, to them, as she well knows. The larva, once successfully hatched, rapidly covers itself with silk, which the bees cannot destroy nor penetrate with tlieir stings for the destruction of the noxious intmder. Gradually this silken cover- ing becomes a tube or covered way stretching in any direction that the larva pleases right through the combs. When this enemy becomes numerous it is all over with the hive ; the bees have no choice but to desert the place altogether, and con- struct a new habitation. As to the internal government of the bee-com- munity, j\Ir. Grant states there are some bees that appear never to work themselves, but take regular rounds to ascertain whether all bees are perform- ing their duties satisfactorily ; but it is probable that these officers or magistrates of the hive, may also, like the sentinels, fulfil their higli duties only in rotation. And sad enough these duties occasionally are — involving no less than penal judgments. Mr. Grant beheld "two bees brought out of the hive by other bees, assisted by one on each side as guards : they were evidently condemned criminals. They were thrown down in front of the hive, stung to death, and then the executioners returned to the hive as though con- scious of having performed a highly praiseworthy duty." He supposes these unfortunates to have been either strangers or unruly members : but as this involves a serious point of the bee criminal jurisprudence, we had better suspend our judg- ments until the facts are made clearer. Perhaps the criminals were a pair of the corsairs recently described. As to the bee-police, we shall content ourselves with the illustration afforded by an anecdote. "A few pounds of honey had been taken from a hive by its owner, and placed in a closet of a room of which the door was closed. The bee-police, however, appear to have been fol- lowing the stolen goods, and watching tlieir oppor- tunity, stole in through an open window into the room, and thence by means of a crevice into the closet itself. How the bees must have enjoyed the sport as they hurried to and fro imtil they had completely emptied the abstracted combs, and re- deposited the whole of the honey in the centre of the hive : their own once more !" Bees appear to be decidedly backward in sur- gery and the medical art, and probably kill their sick and maimed, when the cases are too difficult ; but then they take care to have few of such cases. They are your true sanitary labourers. See how carefully they clean the floor of the hive at every favourable opportunity ; how they remove all de- caying or dead exuvis ; how admirably they venti- late in hot weather. But that process deserves a few words of explanation — it is at once so in- tei-esting and unique. The ventilating bees take up their position in two bodies, one larger than the other, near the entrance, but so as to cause no interruption of the way. The small body near the door turn their heads inwards, the other and larger, standing farther within, look towards the entrance of the hive. The bees then uniting their wings together by means of small marginal hooks, so as to increase the surface, move them to and fro with such velocity, that the wings almost cease to be distinguishable. This is hard work, and has to be continued incessantly at certain periods, so the ventilating corps is renewed all the more fre- quently, that is, at intervals of about twenty-five minutes. THE MANAGEMiiNT OF BEES Can be best understood by a careful study of the habits of the insect ; and therefore it is, that,indepen- deut of the interest we wished to inspire in the proceedings and modes of life of a most attractive little community, we considered it advisable to preface any necessary practical details, by dwelling at some length on the phenomena from which alone can be derived just principles of manage- ment. Study nature, and she will herself show you where — and how — you may occasionally assist her when she requires assistance in the attainment of your especial object ; but never attempt to conquer her, or to turn her completely aside from her own path. In other words, leave the bees as far as possible to their own instincts, by accom- modating all your requisitions to their habits. This cannot be done by following implicitly mere dogmatic instructions, derived from other men's experience, capable with them, no doubt, of being adapted to changing or unexpected circumstances, precisely because based on experience that is ever ready to correct and inform the ideas it sent forth, but which to you, wanting that ex- perience, may fail at your utmost need. We shall not, therefore, crowd these pages by very long minute details of bee-management. Of course there are some points of practice easily ex- plained, not liable to the danger we have pointed out, and indispensable to the young beginner in bee-keeping. These we shall endeavour to state clearly and efficiently. But for the most part all the details of bee-management can be best learned from practice, and the study of the essential (518 obiects. details are intended to secure. It is also to be observed, that such details are unsettled to this hour, and vary among the best apiarists. We begin with a few woi-ds on the PROFITS OE BliE-KEEPING. Sydserff supposes, in an estimate that we shall try to make clearer than as he gives it, that every swarm or stock may produce another annually for sale, whilst the entire number of the stocks kept in hand shall be doubling yearly, which can only be accomplished thus : — 1st year, — 1 stock produces 2, malting 3 in all ; from which one is sold, leaving 2 ; product £0 10 6 2nd year— 2 stocks produce 4, making 6 in all ; from which 2 are sold, leaving 4 ; product. . 110 and so on. The expenses of the hives being de- frayed by the honey obtained, what will be the result in fourteen years ? Why that the last of the fourteen would produce £4,300 Ifis. from 8,192 hives! We wonder whether Sydserff ever asked himself how many apiaries could be doing this at the same time in England, and still obtain- ing 1 Os. 6d. for each hive ? A less amusing but much more useful calculation would be, to see what could be done by relying upon keeping your stocks yourself to produce honey, which can always be sold, and which would probably be much more largely consumed if it were cheaper. Here is a wide field open for skill and enterprise. All apiarians are agreed as to the profitable nature of bee-keeping. Bees in good pasturage, well managed, will give two swarms yearly ; and, in favourable seasons, the first swarm will the same year give one or two glasses of honey. No noticeable capital is re- quired to commence ; no noticeable amount of time is necessarily consumed in their management, and they may be kept almost anywhere, though not with equal profit. One apiarian, whose authority may be depended upon, gives the profits of eight stocks only as averaging about £-iO in three suc- cessive years. Another, who was regularly en- gaged from six to six daily in other avocations, cleared nearly £100 in one year by his bees. The quantity of honey that may be obtained from a hive is exceedingly variable, but offeiing, there- fore, only the greater assurance of due rewards for able management. Fifty or sixty pounds have not unfrequently been obtained from a single hive in a season, and occasionally as much as 100 lbs ; whilst from a set of collateral boxes, 110 lbs. is mentioned ; and Cotton states that as much as 290 lbs. have really been stored in a single season by a smgle stock similarly situated in a roomy trebled habitation. The prices of honey in London are stated to be generally as follows : — .1. d. Minorca, which is the best per lb. 2 B Narbonue „ 2 0 Pure native honey in the comb „ 1 0 Other native honey „ 0 8 But pure native honey in the comb, obtained in glasses, is sought for the table, and therefore often sells for double the price above-mentioned. We shall only add, that Mr. Smart, a well-known apiarian, considers hundreds of stocks may be kept where only tens are now to be found, so far as regards the capabilities of support, the main point to be considered. To that subject, therefore, we now turn : — BEE-FLOWERS. Conspicuous among all the plants loved by bees (for the best of reasons, that they get the most honey or other substances from them) are clover, wild-thyme, heath and broom, borage, French buck-wheat, and Melilotus leucantha. Tliis last may be usetully grown for the bees' especial gratification. It is easily cultivated, blooms from June to November, and is ornamental, in addition to its other good qualities. Bat the most impor- tant qualification of bee-pasturage is, that there shall be always something for the bees, from the very earliest spring to the very latest autumn. It will be useful, therefore, to append a LIST OF BEE-FLOWERS. Spring. Erica carnea* Winter aconite* Rnseniary* -drop Summer. Syringa Helianthemum Annual poppy* French willow Sweet-briar Bean Yellow lupine Mignionette* Blackberry Chestnut Mallow Lime* Hysop Teazk- Nasturtium Yellow vetch . Sainfoin Broom VVlieat Viper's bugloss' Raspberry* Sympliora Racemosa Osi^r* Primrose Hcpatica Violet Almond WallHower* (single) Borage* Onion Gooseberry Apricot Peach Apple Gooseberry* Currant* Turnip* Cabbage, &c.* Straw beiTy Tulip Hawthorn Gorse or furze Columbine Laburnum Berberry* Ribes Sanguineum Dutch Clover* Those marked with an asterisk are understood to be the flowers especially favoured by the bees. What a choice little garden for himself, as well as for hi^ bees, the apiarian may make from the above list, if he does not choose to leave the bees de- pendent upon the stores of the neighbourhood at large. Aulumn. Michaelmas daisy Winter savory Purple houseleek Ivy French buckwheat,* sowed at Midsum- mer Honeysuckle Spanish broom* Hollyhock* Heath* iSundower Lemon thyme* St. Jcihn's-wort Melilotus leucan. 619 This should be formed of some material that will neither readily receive and conduct the sum- mer's heat to the hive, nor radiate its own heat away from it in winter. Straw and wood are both good non-conductors of Tieat, and are both much used. The common straw hive answers every purpose when bee-management in its simplest shape is desired ; and if a more elaborate system is to be pursued, the same straw hive is easily made the chief portion of a larger structure, having con- veniences for facilitating artificial swarming, or preventing swarming altogether, so far as it can be prevented, or for removing tlie honey. The straw hives have one advantage over those of wood ; they admit freer passage of air by insensible de- grees into the hive, and of moisture out of it. It will save the bees time and trouble, ifhich to you means honey, if you take care the inner surface of the straw hive is carefully freed from all rough- nesses. India matting has been used with suc- cess for lining straw hives. But use no paint, nor washes, nor anything of the kind. A Glass Window should be let into the back. This is not merely an agreeable adjunct, as ad- mitting you when you please to a certain degree of familiarity with the bees, but often proves of use in questions of pure business management. Bees, however, if they courteously answer your courteous mode of approaching them (which is, by gently breathing only through your nostrils, and with an easy nonchalant air, that seems to say, I don't care for the bees, and they have no reason to care for me), if they endure your society, they will hardly flatter you so much as to like it; therefore disturb them as little as possible, and never uselessly. You may have occasion to tuni up the hive, to examine the interior, or remove a part of the contents ; but this must not be done after the flower season is past, for the bees can no longer collect propolis to renew the fastening you destnjyed, — that by which the bottom of the hive was securely fi.xed to the board on which it stands : an indispensable provision against winter cold. Aspect. — A north, north-east, or north-west aspect is recommended ; but there appears no ob- jection to a direct southern one, if you take care that the fierce rays of the meridian sun shall not stream upon the poor perspiring bees in summer, and if you take care to prevent its perfidious rays in winter from wooing the bees forth in the delu- sion that, as the old song says. and then leaving them before they have got back to the hive, chilled and hungry, no flowers to be seen, dropping down at last iu their exhaustion to rise no more. The Situation — must be dry andaiiy, though fierce winds must be completely shut out by the natural defences of the place. It must also be free from noisome smells and great noises. The hive must be protected by an ovei'hangiug canopy against rain and drip. Damp is perhaps the greatest of all bee-enemies. As to the others, let your hive stand upon one or more posts or pillars, according to its size [most securely fixed, accidents with hives are very dangerous things), so that " mice and rats, and such small deer," may not be able to annoy the bees. Some effectual precautions should be taken to prevent children from interfering in any way with the bees, either intentionally, or, which is more likely, by accident. There are cases on record of children suffering severely by some un- lucky interference, construed no doubt by the bees into an attack, and resented accordingly. Ventilation — Do not attempt to teach bees the art of ventilation. We have seen they know how to do what we do not — keep the air as sweet within their home as it is without. Open any ere vice in the hive, and they will immediately stop it up with propolis. Your experiments may worry, but will never teach or improve them. We do not here speak of ventilating any side-hives for special purposes, but of the cliief one, where the bees live and are rearing their brood. Mr. Grant once tried an experiment in the way of making the bees more comfortable, by simply covering the ordinary euti-ance at the commencement of frost with a piece of perforated zinc ; " but iu a few minutes afterwards the bees became unsettled, and crowded to the entrance, evidently oppressed by the alteration I had made, and appearing to absorb the condensed air on the zinc, which induced me to remove it altogether. Shortly afterwards I at- tempted to contract the entrance by inserting a piece of wood one inch long by half-an-inch thick, leaving about one and a half-inch open. The wood had not been applied many minutes, when two of the bees came and examined it, with the object of removing it, as they fixed their hind-legs to it, and pulled with all their strength ; but failing in their endeavours, they, with several others which subsequently joined them, ran about the entrance and appeared to be very uneasy, As I could not bear to see them uncomfortable, I withdrew the piece of wood, upon which two of them imme- diately occupied the position where it had been placed, and continued fanning for nearly ten minutes as if it had been the warmest day in June." He then left them to ventilate themselves ever after, with the most perfect success. And here let us observe, that Mr. Grant has shown that zinc should never be used in hives ; a white powder forms upon it, whicli is presumed to be poisonous, and which the bees evidently made great exertions to be rid of. 620 The Best Hive — is that one which, while it hest secures the health and prosperity of the in- mates, best facilitates the particular modes of operation adopted by the owner ; these admit of great variety, especially with regard to the taking of honey, and the increase of the number of com- munities. We know of no hive more generally useful than Mr. Grant's, the one here shown, and which we venture to copy from the Gardener's Chronicle. At all events, a brief description of this will show the kind of thing desiderated, and afford a good point of departure for those who can improve upon it. The straw hive is seen in the centre, with its en- trance at the boticm, and a projecting foot-board, or landing-place, under cover of the portico, so that when the bees hurry home in numtiers on the ap- proach of rain (and bees are the best of barometers), they may not be drenched while waiting for room to enter. The square compartments at the sides are moveable boxes, about ten inches square, and one inch thick, with a shutter enclosing a glass-window to each. These would have been better placed at the back, so that the observer might have been out of the way of the bees as they made their entrances and exits. Perhaps, too, it would be better to treat these side-boxes as mere cases for hives to be put within them ; as it is a great ad- vantage to have all hives exactly of the same size and shape. No division need in that case exist between the different compartments of the case beyond the walls of the hive themselves. Each box has its own separate entrance and foot-board. Bell-glasses for receiving honey may be placed on the hive, and on the side-boxes. A moveable roof, light and warm, covei's the whole, and is put on and off without difficulty. A tube of communica- tion, which can be opened or closed at pleasure from the outside (and which does not prevent the removal of a side-box), extends from the straw hive in the centre to each of the boxes, so that the be es can pass freely, when the owner chooses to let them . COMMENCEMENT OF OPERATIONS. And now, gentle reader, we will venture to suppose you, as an admirer of bees, or of the profit that may be derived from them, are determined to commence operations in a quiet careful way, that shall give you an opportunity of learning, by the management of a few, how to deal successfully with any number. If it is spring when you com- mence, purchase a recent swarm just comfortably settled in a new hive, weighing not less than four or five pounds, and for which 3'ou may pay, perhaps, ten shillings. If it be autumn, your best way will be to obtain a swarm of the same year, with all its " plant," as the commercial men say, of combs and brood ; in short, an established but still young colony. This should weigh from twenty-five to thirty pounds, and contain, according to the apiarian's not very flattering or poetical mode of calculation, about half a bushel of bees. For this you will not pay too much by an expenditure of twenty shillings. If you buy a colony of older date, you know not how undue may be the proportion of the "plant" over those who are to work it, and must not trust to weight alone, but see that the combs are of a pale colour, as dark ones show age, that they are worked down to the floor of the hive, and that the interstices of the combs are well filled with bees. WINTER MANAGEJIENT. Supposing you commence in autumn, this will be one of the first things on which you will be anxious. First, as to xhe'ir food ; second, as to their protection against cold. If bees require feeding in the winter, it is because they have been wrongly deprived of the vei-y stores they had laid by for that season. One of the advantages of all systems of double or treble hives, as we may call the junction of two or three hives or side boxes together, in technical language storifying. is, that they allow the central or chief port;ioa of the colony to remain permanently undisturbed, so that there is always food in it for the bees when required. If a hive weigh less than twenty pounds at the approach of winter, food should be given at once, so that there may he no disturbance in the hive in the periods of frost. The best of all modes, be- cause the most natural, is to lay a piece of honey- comb in the hive about October or November. If that be not readily obtainable when wanted, honey in a plate will do, with short straws over it for the bees to alight on, or good sugar mixed with boiling water in equal weights. If necessaiy, the hive may be raised, to receive the plate or comb, by an eke — that is, a hive prematurely cut short, as it were, in the construction, at three or four rounds. This 621 fits exactly the bottom of the hive, and forms a continuation of its edges. It will be good economy to repeat this feeding in spring, when the bees begin to stir about, but find the flowers not so early as themselves. The food in spring may be placed outside the hive, under the protection of an empty hive or any other suitable cover. All this feeding, however, is quite unnecessary where bees are regularly well managed, and the hives have grown strong. As to protection from cold, bees in good hives really need none beyond wliat is afforded by freedom fi-om damp, and severe winds, shutting out the direct rays of the sun in winter and early spring, and, above all, by taking care that they are not left too few in number to keep up the natural heat of the hive. This appears to be their own mode of protecting themselves. As the weather grows more and more severe, they draw more and more closely together into the centre of the hive to create their fireside, towards and from which all the bees approach and recede in fair and wise rotation; whilst, on the contrary, as the cold decreases, they again expand in proportion. They are not, therefore, torpid, or not regularly so, at least. Of course, they do not work, nor do they in winter itself appear to eat, except in periods of unusual warmth, which stirs alike their limbs and their appetites. The judicious apiarian will see that the less frequently these untimely movements occur the better will it be for the bees and for him. HOXEY-TAKING AND SWAKMING. With S])ring come the chief duties of the apiarian, which are all summed up into two words, honey, which he wants to take ; and swarms, which he wants to che^k or encourage just as he desires to increase the honey at the expense of the increase of the brood, or vice versa. Bees desire to increase and multiply; and all their preparations and filling of barns and stores is with reference solely to that view, over and above their own possible necessities. There is no reason to doubt that they can find ample supplies of food for both purposes, however great the fecundity of their queen-mother. But it is clearly impossible that they can rear the largest amount of brood and give to man, at the same time, the largest amount of honey they can make, and which was made for that brood. The apiarian must, therefore, constantly distinguish between these two departments of bee-management, and promote the one that he most desires success in ; or else strive to hit that golden mean which shall obtain the largest possible increase together of hives and honey. The modes in common use in England among the best apiarians, and which are vei'y various, may, perhaps, be all classified thus : — 1. The common straw hive is used, with a square top for glasses, or small straw hives known as caps, to be placed on them from about the end of April, the whole covered with a conical lid. Here the honey is obtained by means of the glasses or caps, and this is generally the best honey. Put in each glass a bit of the pui-est of the last years' comb, attached to a thin lath one inch w^ide, and the length of the glass. Fasten the comb to the top of the glass, by warming the end with a candle or hot iron. Two or two and a half pounds of the very finest honey are thus frequeutly obtained in a day. All light must be carefully excluded ; when the bees want any, they will take it for themselves out of doors. If in July or August the hive is strong enough to bear a further deprivation, the way (with one hive) is to fumigate the bees, and cut out some of the combs. The best material for fumigation is the lycoperdon, or great puff ball, which is also known among the peasantry by the names of frog-cheese, mully puff, and punk-fist. This grows as large as a child's head. It should be gathered in dry weather, and exposed to the sun's, or to artificial, heat, until it turns brown and leathery. Many convenient modes of application will occur in practice. Mr. Cotton's is good. Get made or make a little tin box fitted to the nose of your bellows, big enough to hold a piece of the fungus twice the size of an egg, and having two openings, one for the bellows, one for the passage of the smoke. Light the fungus, and when it burns freely put it into the box ; put the box on to the bellows-nose, place the latter against the entrance to the hive, and puff away. Have a little wet clay to stop up the entrance on each side of the box, so that none of the smoke may escape. Presently you will hear the bees falling thick as hail, after a brief buzz of indignant astonishment, and in about five minutes all will be still. You may then turn up the hive for any necessary opera- tions, including the taking of honey — choose the side combs, so as to interfere as little as possible with the brood in the centre — and be moderate. The bees will speedily recover from their state of insensibility, and set to work to repair the awful ravages you have made. Mr. Pettigrew recom- mends (possibly as being so much more certainly obtainable when wanted) cotton rags rolled up into the form of a candle. Ether or chloroform will, perhaps, be better than either, but the experiments do not yet appear to have been sufficiently nume- rous for one to speak with confidence. 'We are bound to observe that it is possible that fumiga- tion is not so perfectly harmless as is supposed, and therefore should be done without as far as possible. We have heard nothing from the bees as to their feelings and opinions on the matter. By adding one or more hives or boxes to the top of the original or stock hive, in technical language super-hiving, or doing the same beneath, which is G22 called nadir-hiviug, or attaching them to the sides, which is known as the collateral system, such important additional advantages are obtained that no one should be without spare hives or boxes ready to be used when required, even if they do not at the outset fit up a complete apparatus. Thus, 2. A spare box or hive will be ready to receive a swarm obtained in the ordinary manner, with all its picturesque but inconvenient accessories, as long watchings to know the moment of swarming ; long runnings, perhaps, to overtake the vagrant young colony, over hill and valley, brake and brier, and amid interminable ear-splitting tumult, which the bees have the bad taste, it is supposed, to like ; and the race often ending in seeing the whole cluster safely dejjosited in a neighbour's apiary, who swears it went from his hive. If you wish to avoid all that kind of thing, do your best to give the bees no motive for such wandei'ings, and every conceivable reason to stay where they are. Put a decoy hive ready, with a delicious piece of comb in it (an old hive, with its own combs, will be still more attractive), and it is most likely the scouts sent out to explore will return with such a glowing account of the land of milk and honey they have discovered, that the swarm will be impatient to be off and take possession. 3. Adopting as a rule the non-disturbance in any serious way of your stock-hive, so that honey and brood shall there at least flourish together, when you think it is full (a solid sound from the hive, and a great long-continued buzz from the bees in answer to a tap, is good evidence of that state) attach your side-box, open the communica- tion, and make the bees enter and exit by the entrance to the side-box, which you will do by closing up the entrance to the other, at night when the bees are all at home. A little piece of comb fastened at the top of the side-box, may be at once a useful liint and a temptation to the bees. This box is to be kept solely for honey-combs by ventilation, which prevents the queen from laying eggs in it. When the heat in the side box is 70° you should admit air through the top by means of a piece of tin pierced with holes. A draught through the hive, from the entrance to the roof, now takes place. This must not be done until you see the bees have ftiirly passed the Rubicon, and have done and ventured too much to be inclined to retreat to the stock-hive. When the box is full you can take it away, and replace it emptied, or by another, or by opening a communication to a similar side box on the opposite side, as in Mr. Grant's hive. The bees in it will soon flock to the queen in the parent hive. This arrangement prevents swarming, or at least has a great tendency to pre- vent it ; as the bees have more room given to them just when they want it. It also raises the stock itself to the highest state of prosperity, as only the surplus honey is taken away, and the brood is not interfered with. 4. But if you wish to have an increase of stock without the inconvenience of natural swarming, you may easily do so by treating the side box exactly the same as the chief one, that is, by leav- ing it unventilated. Brood, as well honey, will then be deposited in it, and you have only to watch for a favourable opportunity of securing two stocks. This should be a little before the natural period of swarming, of which the signs are, clustering on the outside, activity and commotion among the drones, inactivity of the workers, portentous silence in the hive in the day (during which the prudent bees are supposed to be filling their pockets with provisions for their journey), and a singular humming noise at night, presumed to come from the young queen-bees announcing their advent. But these warnings apply less to the first than to the subsequent swarms. However, there is a pretty good rule for effective action. As soon as you find the side-box is nearly full, watch for an opportunity when the queen, with about two-thirds of the bees of the colony, is in the side-box, then cut off the communication with, and remove the parent- hive three or four feet distance, and put an empty hive in its exact position. The returning bees will flock into the side-box as before, and that hive is done with. As to the parent-hive, the nurse- bees will take every care of the brood in it ; in fact, they will be just as though a swarm with the queen had left them ; and will proceed with due equanimity to supply her place in the approved way. This is the mode practised with success by Mr. Grant, and may be varied according to circum- stances. For instance, if the queen should not have been left in the side-box with the greater portion of the bees, and has, therefore, been re- moved with the pasent-hive, the result must be, in effect, the same, as regards the two hives ; most of the bees then might leave the side-box and flock to the queen in the parent-hive ; but if there be brood in the side-box, it appears the nurse-bees will not desert it, and, therefore, there are still two communities, and both well provided with all they require for a new start in life. 5. There is also practised, it is said with great profit, a more summary way of proceeding to make an artificial swarm, which consists in fumigating the bees, in order to divide them into two bodies as before. The period chosen is from the beginning of May to the middle of July, and when there are as many bees on the board at the "bottom as will fill a thirty-two (8^ inches by 6) sized flower-pot. To ascertain this, blow a little smoke into them and turn up the hive. Before commencing opera- tions, place the hive intended for the new colony on the stand, with a bit of comb in its roof, and a stick across the middle to aid in the support of the 023 combs. If you are short of hives, this one may be used instead of an additional empty hive in per- forming tlie operations about to be described. But the bit of comb maybe somewhat in the way. The bees having been stupified by the fumigation, the hive is turned up, its top rested on the ground, and an empty liive placed over it of the exact same shape (at the edges at least), and a cloth tied round the circle of junction. Then tap or drum gently at the sides of the two hives, for about ten minutes, in which time probably about two-thirds of the bees will have ascended into the upper hive. The queen, fortunately for the operation, is generally one of the first either to run away from or to confront the danger (we know not which it is) by ascending. If your hive have a glass window, as all should have, you can see when about the right proportion have ascended ; if not, you must guess with the aid above given of the knowledge of the ordinaiy duration of time occupied. Now take off the top hive and reverse it also on the ground, while you make sure the queen is there, throwing, meanwhile, the cloth (that you have removed) over the exposed bottom of the parent-hive. If the queen be there (and, as we have shown, page 610, she is easily distinguishable) you have only to shake queen and bees into the prepared hive on the board, and restore the parent-colony also to the ordinary resting-place, where the bees will soon rear a new queen for it. If the queen be not there, then repeat the process with the prepared hive, and so you will catch her at last. You can then return the first batch of bees that were removed either- to the parent-hive or to the prepared hive, by simply shaking them into the one which most needs them. Old hives thus deprived of their queens, and made to rear new ones, involve another important advantage. In twenty-one days the entire brood will be reared, no fresh brood having been de- posited (through the absence of an old queen) and the young queen not having begun to lay, which they do in about ten days after they leave the cell. Here then, where the hives are heavy, say forty or more pounds in weight, is an opportunity of re- moving the bees (by fumigation) into a new hive, and selling the contents of the old one. The honey is thus earlier than usual in the market, and fetches a higher price. Weak swarms should invariably be joined either to strong ones, or to each other, and as soon as possible after swarm- ing. It is only a strong community that can so successfully establish themselves before winter, as to be in no danger from its seventy. This junc- tion may be performed bj' fumigation, and taking away one of the queens. A stock without a queen may by the same means be added to one that is more fortunate : and this applies even to the re- storation of a swarm to its own parent-hive if there be ample room in it. We have said nothing of the plan of annually destroying the bees, for it is almost an insult to the readers of the Farmer's Library to suppose they would approve of so senseless and unpro- fitable as well as cruel a practice. It is quite true that thus all the honey that is made in a season may be obtained at once, just in the same way that all the golden eggs of the goose in the fable were to be obtained at once. And if this wholesale de- privation be desired, it is perfectly obtainable with- out desti-oying the bees, by simply fumigating them, and removing them to another hive. And if you don't choose to feed the bees during the winter, let somebody else have them that will. It is possible, in a favourable late season, they may not need any assistance. At all events, let it be the golden ma.xim of bee-manj^gement never to allow a single bee to be injured if you can help it. BEE-DRESS. And now, lastly, as to the chances of the bees injuring you. All apiarians agree that there is no danger worth consideration when the bee-habits and temper are duly understood and respected. Treat them as dangerous creatures, as, for instance, by keeping them too remote from intercourse with human society, and they will soon justify your caution. But then it is you who have created the fierceness they will exhibit. Bees don't like people to come in rude perspirations betwixt the wind and their nobility ; and, as before pointed out, ! they have a particular objection to your breathing upon them. It is well, however, to feel safe, as well as know you ought to consider yourself so, not only for your own sake, but for the greater ease of all your operations. Therefore, wear a bee-dress at all such times, until, at least, experience says you may do without it. One of our fair readers will invent and make a good bee-dress, sooner, perhaps, than we can describe one, so simple ai-e its requisites. Gloves to fasten at the wrists over the sleeve, a large Scotch gauze-veil covering the hat, and brought down tightly over its projecting brim, fastened tightly round the neck beneath, upon the turned-up coat-collar, and cover- ing the top of the closely buttoued-up coat, with an apron and Wellington boots, or a thick pair of woollen-socks or stockings, worn over the usual ones, comprise an excellent system of defence. It will, however,be necessary to stitch a piece of thick cloth upon the veil at the part that covers the projecting nose and chin, so as to cover the whole of that region, leaving the eyes alone at liberty to look over the wall, safe under the protection of the hollow made by the hat's brim. Thus attired, the apiarian may perform in entire peace of mind the most delicate operations, and be freed from all danger of becom- ing the actor in some new scene as interesting and dramatic, but also as alarming and dangerous. 624 as that described by Thorley, which we transcribe for the reader's edification, and with which we conchide. " In or about the year 1717, one of my swarms settling among the close-twisted branches of some codling-trees, and not to be got into an hive with- out more help, my maid-servant, hired into the family the Michaelmas before, being in the garden, very officiously offered her assistance, so far as to hold the hive while I dislodged the bees, she being little apprehensive of what followed. " Having never been acquainted with bees, and likewise afraid, she put a linen-cloth over her head and shoulders, concluding that would be a sufficient guard, and secure her from their swords. A few of the bees fell into the hive ; some upon the ground ; but the main body of them upon the cloth which covered her upper garments. " No sooner had I taken the hive out of her hands, but, in a terrible fright and surprise, she cried out the bees were got under the covering, crowding up towards her breast and face, which immediately put her into a trembling posture. When I per- ceived the veil whs of no further service, she at last gave me leave to remove it. This done, a most affecting spectacle presented itself to the view of all the company, filling me with the deepest distress and concern, as I thought myself the unhappy instrument of drawing her into so great and imminent hazard of her life, which now so manifestly lay at stake. " It is not in my power to tell the confusion and distress of mind I was in, from the awful ap- prehensions it raised ; and her dread and terror in such circumstances may reasonably be supposed to be much more. Every moment she was at the point of retiring with all the bees about her. Vain thought! to escape by fliglit. She might have left the place indeed, but could not the company, and the remedy would have been much worse than the disease. Had she enraged them, all resistance had been vain, and nothing less than her life would have atoned for the otTeuce. And now to have had that life (in so much jeopardy) insured, ■what would I not have given ! " To prevent, therefore, a flight which must have been attended with so fatal a consequence, I spared not to urge all the arguments I could think of, and use the most affectionate entreaties. begging her, with all the earnestness in my power, to stand her ground, and keep her present posture; in order to which, I gave encouragement to hope, in a little space, for a full discharge from her dis- agreeable companions ; on the other hand, assuring her she had no other chance for her life. I was, tlirough necessity, constantly reasoning with her, or else beseeching and encouraging her. " I began to search among them for the queen, now got in a great body upon her breast, about her neck, and up to her chin. I presently saw her, and immediately seized her, taking her from the crowd, with some of the commons in company with her, and put them together into the hive. Here I watched her for some time, and as I did not observe that she came out, I conceived an ex- pectation of seeing the whole body quickly aban- don their settlement ; but instead of that, I soon observed them, to my greater sorrow and surprise, gathering closer together without the least signal for departing. Upon this I immediately reflected, that either there must be another sovereign, or that the same was returned. I directly com- menced a second search, and in a short time, with a most agreeable surprise, found a second or the same ; she strove, by entering further into the crowd, to escape me, which I was fully deter- mined against ; and apprehending her without any further ceremony, or the least apology, I re-con- ducted her, with a great number of the populace, into the hive. And now the melancholy scene began to change and give way to one infinitely more agreeable and pleasant. " The bees, presently missing their queen, began to dislodge and repair to the hive, crowding into it in multitudes, and in the greatest hurry imaginable. And in the space of two or three minutes the maid had not a single bee about her, neither had she so much as one sting, a small number of which would have quickly stopped her breath. " How ine.xpressible the pleasure which suc- ceeded her past fears ! What joy appeared in every countenance upon so signal a deliverance ! and what mutual congratulations were heard ! I never call to mind the wonderful escape without a secret and very sensible pleasure. I hope never to see such another sight, though I triumph in this most noble stand and glorious victory." INDEX TO THE SHEEP. Abruzzezi, the, 58. Abruzzi, account of the, extracted from the Penmj Marja- zine, 58 ; sheep of the, 59 ; management of, 59. Aeari, history of the, 208. Acosta, his account of the paco-llama, 15(3; of the tame guanaco-llama, 156. Africa, North, various breeds of sheep in, ■12 ; fat-tailed sheep of, 42. African sheep crossed with Spanish by Columella, 41 ; by Pedro the Fourth of Spain, 45 ; by the Cardinal Zime- 'nes, 45. Afric of Canterbury, his representation of a shepherd's duties, 32. Age, natural, of the sheep, 76 ; manner of ascertaining the, 74; not calculated from the time of birth, 74; the average, at which sheep are iiilled, 76. Albemarle, the Earl of, details given by him of the supe- riority of the Southdown to the Norfolk sheep, 114. Aloes, 216. Alpaca, the wild, 158. Alteratives and specific medicines, nature of, 216. Alum, 218. America, North, breed of sheep in, 73 ; South, breed of sheep in, 73. Animotragus, tlie genus, 20. Anacharsis the younger, his remarks on the practice of clothing sheep, 10. Ancients, the, their knowledge of the effect of rich pas- tures in the deterioration of the wool of sheep, 78. Andalusia, sterility of a portion of the flats of, 57. Anderson, Dr., his account of the lambs of Bucharia, 34; of a fine combing wool produced in the Shetland Isles, 121. Anglesey, the true sheep of, 107 i the old breed of sheep of, 107 ; cross between the, and the Cotswolds, 107 ; between the, and the Leicesters, 107; between the, and the Merino, 107; between the, and tlie black-laced sheep of the Peak of Derbyshire, 107 ; between tlie, and the Southdown, 107 ; between the, and tiie white-ficed Yorkshire sheep, 107. Anglo-merinos, disadvantages of the, 70; triunph of the, in 1810, 70 ; prices given for, at various periods, 70. Anglo-Saxons, wool manufacture of the, 145. Angora-Thibet goats, the, purchased by Mr. Riley of M. Poloiueau, 163. Angular, or cheek vein, method of bleeding from the, 174. Animal heat, the physiology of, 172; the source of, 172. Animals, domestic, tendency of, to return to their type, 29. Ansbich, sheep imported into, 62. Antispasmodics, 217. Aorta, the, of the sheep, 173. Aoudad, the (see Ovis Tragclaphus). Aperient, injections, the composition of, 216; a good, in dysentry, 191. Aperients, the best, for sheep, 216. Apoplexy, or blood-striking, the sheep most liable to, 181 ; often caused by high feeding ami over-driving, 181; symptoms of, 181 ; treatment of, 181. Anbs, mutton furnished by, for the consumption of Syria, 38. Arcadia, the sheep of, 45. Argali, character of the, 25 ; description of tlie 24 ; the great Asiatic (Ovis Aramoii), 21.; specimens of tlie, in the British Museum, 24 ; Caucasian, Colonel Hamilton Smith's account of one, 25 ; the Circassian, Mr. Blyth's remarks concerning, 25 ; the Kamtchatkan (Ovis Nivi- cola), 26; the Kamtchatkan, Kotzebue's account of, 26 ; the Kamtchatkan, description of, 26 ; the Siberian, sup- posed by Mr. Bennett to be the origin of the Asiatic races of sheep, 19. Arlington long wool sheep, tlie, 73. Arran, the sheep of, 119. Arterial and venous system of the sheep, 173; pulse, the, in the adult sheep, 173. Artificial food, advantages of, 165 ; routine of, for the Southdown sheep, 166. Astringent cordial, a useful, for sheep and calves, 218. Astringents, nature of, 218. Attica, ancient, the wool of, 45. Auchenia, the genus, 155 ; various species of, 156. Aulnagers, what, 153. Australia, important position of, among the wool-growing countries, 72: average market-price of the wool of, 72; statistical account of experts of wool from, 72; introduc- tion of the Merino sheep into, 72; results produced by crossing the Merino sheep with the native breed's of, 72 ; importation of Southdown and Leicester sheep into, 72 ; introduction of Saxo-Merino sheep into, 72. Australian colonies, attention of, to the growth of wool, 163. Austria, sheep, number of, 62. Azores, sheep of the, 30. Baireuth, sheep imported into, 62. Bakewell, Mr., his plan of proceeding until he established the celebrated Dishley breed, 124; the principles on which be selected sheep for breeding, 124 ; his plan of letting out rams for the season, 125 ; ultimate triumph of, 125 ; his plan of fattening sheep rapidly, 193. Ballinasloe fair, account of, 142 ; manner of conducting business at, 142; average number of cattle exhibited at, 142; sheep sold at, in 1836, number and price of, 142 ; summer fair, description of the, 142. Bamplon sheep, tlie, 100 ; description of the, 133 ; the old, disputed origin of the, 133; the new, 133. Banks, Sir Joseph, his advocacy of the introduction of the Merino sheep into England, 67. Banstead- Heath sheep, the, 96. Birtley, Mr., his account of Dr. Parry's breed of sheep, 69. Basal, the, and apical portions of each filament of wool ex- ceed the intermediate portion, 15 ; cause of this, 16. Bath and West of England Society, opinion of the, con- cerning Dr. Parry's experiment, 69. Beam, breed of sheep in, 66. Bedfordshire, the sheep of, 115. Bedouin sheep, the, 37. Belga?, the, 145. Bell, Mr., his manner of accounting for the difF-'rence be- tween the hair of the mouflon and the dom-stic sheep, 21. Bengtria, 62. M'Arthur, Captain, breed of sheep introduced by him, excellence of the wool of the, 72. Maxillary bone, the inferior, 175; the superior, 175. M'Culloch, Mr., his account of the cloth manufacture at various epochs, 152 ; of the revival of the woollen trade, 150 ; of the wool trade during the last century, 2 ; of the measures taken by Edward III. for the improvement of the wool manufacture, 147; of the woollen manu'actures of Scotland, 155 ; of the woollen manufactures of Wales, 108 ; his estimate of the annual produce of wool in the Britisli empire, 137 ; his remarks on the laws made for putting down machinery, 149 ; his table of items regard- ing the manufacture of woollens in Great Britain, 3 ; his tabular view of the principal British breeds of sheep, in 1839, 91 ; his views concerning tl.e naturalization of the llama in England, 160. Meadow fox-tail grass, 168. Meatus auditorius, 175. Medicine, manner of giving, to sheep, 202, 216. Medicines adopted in the treatment of sheep, 216. Mendip range ofhil's, the, 100; extent of, 100 ; sheep, tlie, 100 ; absorbed into a mingled race, 100. Mercurial ointment, 219. Merino, what, 155. Merino breed, the, produced in Spain, 33 ; general descrip- tion of the, 53 ; pure, the Estantes, 53 ; the Transhu- mantes, 53; the idea of crossing other breeds with the, not entertained until a comparatively recent period, 60 ; the introduction of, into Denmark, 49 ; the introduction of into Tartary, 46; the wool of the, 54; contimious growth of, 69; remains of the ancient varielies of colour ill the, 51 ; hue, the, indicates the original colours of the indigenous br.eds of Spain, 52 ; lambs, necessity of destroying great numbers of, as soon as yeaned, 56 ; Society, establishment of a, in England, 70. Merionethshire, the sheep of, 106 ; practice of clipping twice in the year, 107. Mesopotamia, supplies of sheep imported to Syria from, 38. Mesta system, the, what, 54 ; account of, 55 ; origin of, attributed by Piidre S.irinento to the desolation caused by the plague in Spain, 57 ; est.iblished by ancient usage, 60 ; the real motive of overlooked by the Spanish shep- herds, 60 ; how far conducive to the value of the Merino wool, 57. Metropolis, alterations effected in tlie supply of slu (p to the, by the railroad and the steam-vesstl, 1 13. Middlese.x, the sheep of, 115. i .Middle-woolled sheep, qualities of tl.e, 91. INDEX TO THE SHEEP. Vll ^ligration of the Spanish Traiishuraantes, system of, 54 ; plan of, 54. Miry, not flooded, land, injurious to sheep, 195. Molina de Aragou, obstacles to agriculture presented by Monge, M., his theory concerning the felting of wool, 10. Monmouthshire, old breed of sheep in, 103 ; present breed of sheep in, 103. Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley, her account of the amuse- ments of the peasantry of European Turkey, 4. Montana de Aragon, obstacles to agriculture presented by the, 58. Moiitbar, establishment of sheep on a farm near, 61. ISIontgomeryshire, the hill sheep of, 106 ; the fleece of, 106. Moorcroft, Mr., his opinion of the flock of shawl goats procured by M. Jaubert, 163. Moore, Mr., of Winthorpe, ewe possessed by him, 76. Mooiish Spain, perfection is the manufacture of woollen fabrics attained by, 52. Moorlands, yeaning time in the, 113 j the sheep of the, in- dependence of, 84. Morfe Common sheep, description of the, 103 ; attempt to cross them with the Merinos, 103. Morocco, breed of sheep in, 45. Moss and heath on the hills, practice of burning the, in the Scotch mountains, 119. Mouflon, the (Ovis Musimon), 20; character of, 21; de- scription of, 21 ; hair of, 20 ; the Armenian, (Ovis Gme- lenii), 22; description of, 22 ; of Cyprus, (Ovis Ohpion,) 22 ; of the central parts of Persia, 22 ; of tlie Kaclmn region of Nepal (Ovis Nahoor), 23 ; description of, 23; of Little Thibet {Ovis Vignei), 23; description of the, 23 ; of Sardinia and Corsica, according to some writers the parent stock of our domestic sheep, 19. Mountain sheep of Great Britain, boldness of the, 84 ; de- fensive attitude of tlie, 85 ; habit of the, of never de- scending into the valley at night, 85 ; farmer, the, precariousness of his profits, 116; feeders, their treat- ment of sheep, 118. Mousselin-de-laine, what, 155. Muzzle of the sheep, description of the, 74. Mysore-country, sheep of the, 40. Names given to individual sheep in ancient times, 4. Napier, the Hon. \V. J., his advocacy of stells for mountain sheep, 88 ; his plan for smearing sheep, 89. Nasal bones, the, 175 ; cavity, lining membrane of the, 176. Navarre, la Basse, breed of sheep in, 66. Negretti breed of sheep, the what, 63 ; Merinos, sale of the, belonging to George III., 70. Nervous system, the, 173. Neurotomy, might be performed with advantage on the sheep, 211. Newgate and Leadenhall markets, supplies to, in July 1847, 144: prices sold at, 144. New South Wales, causes of loss against which the sheep- keeper of, has to contend, 73 ; damage done by the droughts of, 72 ; diseases of the sheep of, 73 ; manage- ment of the sheep of, 72. New wheat, poisonous, 203. Nigritia, see Soudan. Nitrate of potass, 217 ; of silver, a good caustic, 219. Noriblk farmers, partiality of, to turnips as food for sheep, 115; sl-.etp, improvement in the, 115; comparison be- tween, and tbe Souihdovvn, 114; system of feeding the, 115; peculiar breed of lieatli sheep of, 113; superseded by the Southdowns, 114; recent increase in the long- woidled sheep of, 115; the manufactures of, 130 ; the woollen manufactures of, 153. North Downs, sheep of the, 96; Riding, breed of sheep of the, 112. Northumberland and Durham, long-wooUed breed of sheep of 127 ; the breeds of sheep of, 1 10 ; bl.ick-faced sheep of, 77; the mountain sheep of, 110; the turnip husbandry of, 110. North Wales, the hill sheep of, 106; number of sheep in, 108. Norway, wool imported to Great Britain from, 49 ; sheep of, 49. Norwich, colonization of, by the Flemings, 130, 153; establishment of a cloth manufactory at, by Edward III., and Philippa of Hainault, 147. Nottinghamshire, former breeds of short-woolled sheep of, 113. Notts, or Natts, breed of sheep called, description of the, 100. Oat- GRASS, yellow, 169. Oecipital-bone, the, 175. Ochre, custom of rubbing the loins of the Spanish Tran- shumantes with, 55. Odessa, quality of the wool exported from, 46. CEstrus Ovis, the, 176. Oil-cake, a useful article of food for sheep, 165. Oil, or essence of peppermint, 218. Ointment recommended for the scab by Mr. Hogg, 209. Ointments and lotions, 219; used for garget, 210. Opium, a valuable sedative, 217. Orbits, the bony, of the eye, 175. Orkney Islands, sheep of the, 119. Orleans cloth, what made of, 155. Os cordis, the, 173. Ottara, Russian flocks of sheep, movements of the, 47 ; enemies of the, 47. Otter-sheep, the, 73. O.xfordshire, the sheep of, 135; new, 135. Ovejas marinas, similarity of the, to the old dun-faced sheep, 112. Ovid, his account of a plague which depopulated -Egina, 210, 211. Ovis, the genus, uncertainty enveloping the wild species of, 26 ; propensity for salt exhibited by, 28 ; distinctive characters of, .19; Ornata, the, 20 ; Tragelaphus, descrip- tion of the, 19. Owen, Professor, his account of various fossil remains of the goat, 30. Pacha, Ibrahim, his attempt to increase the number of sheep produced in Syria, 38. Paco-llama, the, 158 ; specimen of, in the Zoological Gardens, 158. Parietal bones, the, 175. Paris, supplies of sheep to, 67. Parkinson, Mr., his description of the Irish mode of sheep washing and shearing, 141 ; proof given by, of the con- tagion of the foot-rot, 205. Parliament called in 1337 for the purpose of settling the wool trade, 148. Parry, Dr , excellence of his breed of Anglo-merino sheep, 69; his experiments in crossing the Spanisli Merinos with English sheep, 68; his management^ of sheep, 68 ; his objection to the custom of washing sheep before shearing, 69. Parson, his description of the march of a horde of Arabs, 7. Parturition, practice of removing the ewes to a richer pas- ture before the time of, 211; preparations for, 211; proper sitixation lor, 211; proper treatment in, 212, 213. Paget, Mr., list of the prices realized by a stock of D ishley ewes sold by him, 126. Palate of the shtep, description of the, 74. Palsy, or paralysis, causes ol, 184; treatment of, 185; little hope of cure in, 185. Pamir sheep (Ovis Pvlii), Mr. BIyth's account of the, 25; description of the, 25. d INDEX TO THE SHEEP. Pasture-land, importance of attention to the nature of the grass produce of, 167 ; of not overstocking, 167. Paular breed of sheep, the, what, 63. Peak of Derbyshire, black-faced sheep of the, 113. Pecunia, money, derived from pecus, a flock, 16. Peloponnesus, the, purple and scarlet cloths d^cd there, 44. Pelt of the mouflon, character of the, 21. Penistone breed of sheep, the, 113 ; crossed with the Lei- cesters, the Cheviots, and the Kyelands, 113. Penny Magazine, extract from the, 86. Perpignan, establishment of a farm at, for the rearing of Merino sheep, 64. Persian sheep, the, description of, 37 ; capable of great improvement, 37 ; the fat-tailed, 40 ; wool of, 40. Perspiratory vessels, the sluggishness of, in ihe sheep, compared with those of the man and the horse, 174. Pestilential diseases, antiquity of, 210. Petw orth, (air for sheep at, 96. Philip and Mary, statutes of, for putting down machinery, 149. Phrenitis, treatment in, 181. Pickloch Merino, description of the, 66. Pipe, the shepherd's, still used in many parts of the Alps, and in some provinces of France, 5. Plague, the, of 1348-50, ravages of the, 57. Plaiding, the manufacture of, 154. Plaisters, nature of, 219 ; use of, 219; a good, in cases of the fly, 219. Planaria, the, 194. Plants, variety of, eaten by the sheep, compared with the horse and tlie ox, 202. Plint, Mr., his reasoning against the cultivation of the Anglo-merino, 71. Pneumonia, appearance of, as an epidemic, 197 ; symptoms of, 196 ; causes of, 196 ; treatment of, 197 ; appearances presented on examination alter death from, 196. Poisons, 202. Polyliius, his account of the use of the shepherd's horn in ancient times, 5. Pompadour, establishment of a farm at, for the rearing of Merino sheep, 64. Poplin, what, 155. Porloch, the breed of sheep of, 100. Potash in lime-water, solution of, 218. Potatoes, advantages of steaming for sheep, 166 ; manner of giving, 166. Poultices, the best, 219. Price, Mr., his account of the Romney Marsh sheep, 131; of the ravages of inflammatory fever among the sheep of Romney Marsh, 186. Provence, proceedings of the migratoi-y sheep of, Q6 ; the shepherds of, 66 ; the sheep of, 66. Prussia, improvement of the sheep of, by crossing with the Sik'sian flock, 61 ; introduction of the Spanish Merino sheep into, 61 ; of the Saxo-merino sheep, 61 ; present sheep possessions of, 69. Pulmonary artery, the, of the sheep, 173. Piirik sheep, the, of Ladakh, merit of, 34. Pyrenees, high, breed of sheep in the, 66 ; lower, breed of sheep in the, 66. Rabifs, or madness, 182; symptoms of, 182; danger in handling a sheep affected by, 182 ; appearances pre- sented upon dissection of a rabid sheep, 182 ; no credit- able farmer would sell a sheep afieottd by, 183. Riimbouillet, experiments tried at the farm at, 69. Ram, pioper form of the, 76; selection ol, for breeding, 79 ; strength of the, 85. Rape, considered as an article of food for sheep, 94. Ke.ul, Ml-., his account of the cause and progress of the foot-rot, 206 ; do., remedial measures to be taken in, 207. Red-water, see Water-braxy. Refina wool, what, 56. Rheumatism, symptoms and treatment of, 203. Richard Coeur de Lion, tlie ransom of, to the Emperor of Germany, paid in wool, 146. Riley, Mr., his efforts to introduce the Thibet goat into Australia, 163. Rocky Mountain sheep, description of the, 27; the atten- tion of naturalists not drawn to until 1803,28; Father Piciolo's account of the, 27 ; specimen of, in the British Museum, 27 ; resemblance between and the Siberian Argali, 27 ; distinction between and the Siberian Argali, 28 ; colour of, 28 ; habits of, 28. Romans, establishment of woollen manufactories at Win- chester by them, 31. Romney Marsh, the character of, 131 ; breed of sheep of, 95; ancient race of the, 131; cross of the, with the Leicesters, 132; the improved established, 132; care required by, in the lambing season, 133 ; hardships to which they are exposed in winter, 132 ; qualities of the, 131. Rot, the sheep of marshy districts principally diseased with, 194 ; the result of neglected inflammation of tha liver, 192 ; various opinions concerning the cause of, 194; symptoms of, 193; treatment of, 195; ravages of the, 193. Rough-stalked meadow grass, 168. Rousillon, the sheep of, 65. Rowing sheep, common in Italy in early times, 9 ; still practised in Italy in the time of Pliny, 9 ; manner of, 119, 120. Rowland, Messrs., of Kilkenny, introduction of Merinos into the flock of, 71. Russia, Southern, the wool exported from, 46 ; recent im- provement in the wool of, 46. Russian goats, their use in storms and hurricanes, 47. Russian sheep, their exposure on the plains, 47. Ryeland sheep, the old breed of, 102; description of, 102; attempted crossings of, with the Southdownsand Merinos, 103; crossed by Mr. Follet with the Merinos, 68; or Herefordshire sheep, the present, 103 ; change in the fleece of the, 102. Rye-grass, 166-169. Saline pastures, characteristics of the sheep fed on, 36. Salt, utility of, 195 ; manner of giving to the Spanish Transhumantes, 65. Salving, or smearing, 220 ; importance of, 220 ; objects of, 220 ; various unguents for, 220. Saphena, or thigh vein, method of bleeding from the, 175. Saracens, extinction of the woollen manufacture in Spain after their expulsion, 52. Saxo- Merinos, neglect of, in the improvement of English breeds of sheep, 71. Saxony, introduction of the Spanish Merino into, 61 ; success of in, 2, 61 ; cloth, what made of, 155. Sayer, Mr. D., mixture given by him in cases of dysentery, 191. Scab, the, nature of, 207 ; cause of, 207 ; contagion of, 207 ; symptoms and progress of, 207 ; treatment of, 209 j appearances after death from, 209. Scoti, the, early occupiers of Ireland, 137. Scotland, the sheep of, 116 ; black-faced sheep of the hilly districts of, 77 ; the breeding flocks maintained in the southern parts of, 118; the woollen manufactures of, 154. Scott, Sir Walter, his explanation of the term braxy mutton, 189. Scottish mountains, great improvements in, bearing on the comfoitol sheep, 119; shepherd, life of the, 117; plan on which he is engaged, 117. Sedatives and febrifuge medicines, nature of, 217. Sedative injections, the composition of, 216; a good, in pneumonia, 197. Seizures of wool made in 1128 and 1129, 146. Serges, what, 155, Sha, the. See Ovis Vignei. INDEX TO THE SHEEF. Shaw, Dr., his account of the Sahara sheep, 42. Shawl goat, growth of the coat of the, let; difficulty of transporting a flock of the, from Thibet to Europe, 162 ; flock of the, brought by M. Jaubert to Marseilles, and Toulon, 162 ; condition of the, on landing, 163; distri- bution of the, 163 ; improbability of the naturalization of, in England, 16-i; sliearing of sheep, practised by the Greeks in the time of Hesiod, 9. Sheep, early domestication of the, 3 ; few fossil remains of, 30 ; natural history of, 16; the abundance of, in ancient times, 6 ; much modified by domestication, 17; great utility of, 1 ; uncertainty when introduced into England, 31; two breeds of, early established in England, 33; value of, in the time of Ethelred, 32; in 712, 32; of Greece and Italy, North Africa and Phoenicia, must anciently have been wool bearers of superior excellence, 43 ; the principal wealth of the Russian nobles, 47 ; }he domestic (Ovis Aries), an artificial being, 33; the long tail of, 29 ; crania of the, 30 ; senses of the, 90 ; skeleton of the, 76 ; when domesticated, examples of the boldness of the, 173; blind, careful attention paid to by their companions, 83; disposition of, to form friendships, 83 ; method of procuring an uniform and uninterrupted supply of food for, 94 ; manner of grazing of the, 74; nndi of attacking an enemy, 175; peculiar personal sympathy to- wards each other, exhibited by, 83 ; anecdote of thisj S3 ; propensity of, to follow their leader, evil consequences of the, 89; anecdotes illustrative of this, 90 ;spirit of imitation shown by the, 89 ; mmagement of, by the Saxons, 32 ; upon land under turnip cultivation, 164 ; association of, for breeding, 81 ; can ^be over fattened, 116; dog, the ancient use of, 6; of the Abruzzi, 6; the Spanish, 6; of Thibet, 6 ; farmer, objects of the, 77 ; gatherers, of Ice- land, profieedings of the, 50 ; husbandry, decided improve- ments in, 122 ; louse, the, what, 209 ; tick, the,what, 209. Shelter, sheep instinctively fly to, in storms, 88. Shepherd, the occupation of a, held in great esteem by the ancients, 4. Shepherds of the Transhumantes, winter employments of the, 55 ; in remote districts, often possess considerable medical and surgical skill, 172; practical schools for advantages to be derived from the establishment of, 172. Slietland Isles, characters of the, 121 ; their fisheries the principal consideration of the inhabitants of the, 122 ; number of sheep of the, 121 ; the sheep of, probably of Danish extraction, 119 ; general characteristics of, 119 ; cliaracterislics of a ram of the pure breed of, 119; the management of sheep in the, 120; rams, bad selection of, to return to the mountains after rowing, 120; cross of the breed of, with the Dutch sheep, 120 ; winter coat of the, 121 ; winter life of the, 121 ; remains of the pure, 119; wool, remarks on the finenjss of the, 121 ; quality of the best, 121. Shoddy-mills, 152. Short blue meadow grass, 168. Short wool, circumstances which led to the depreciation of, 136 ; woolled sheep, what, 90 ; the old English, change in, 91 ; whether deterioration or alteration, 92. Shropshire, the old breed of sheep in, 103 ; cross between, and the Dorset, 103 ; rapid decrease of short wool in, 104. Sight of the sheep, 90. Silverdale breed of sheep, the, 109. Skin of the sheep, use of, 1 ; employment of, in the secre- tion of the yolk, 174. Skull, the, of the sheep, 175 ; the general form of, differs in different breeds, 175. Smell, acute sense of, in the sheep, 90. Smith, Lieutenant T., his account of the capture of a burrhel, 23. Smith, Mr. Robert, his account of the new Oxford breed of sheep, 135; experiments, proving the advantages of artificial food for sheep, 165 ; his remarks on the results of his experiments concerning the best management of sheep, 171 ; proper form of the sheep, 77. Smithfield cattle-show, objects of the, 78 ; market, table of the live-stock imported into, in July, 1847, 143, 114; prices sold at, 143. Smooth-stalked meadow grass, 168. Snow-storms, damage done to mountain-sheep by, 86. Softness of staple, what, 15. Soil, importance of the adaptation of sheep to the nature of the, 216. Somersetshire, breeds of sheep in, 99 ; sheep, kept in miny parts of Sussex, 95 ; horned breed of, the old, 100 ; the woollen manufactures of, 153. Soraerville, Lord, his account of a selection of Spmish Transhumantes imported by hi n into England, 70 ; his efforts in the cause of the establishment of the Merino sheep in England, 69. Sorian Transhumantes, proceedings of the, 55. Soudan, breed of sheep in, 41. Soundness of staple, what, 15. South Ham Notts, the, 133; improvement eflfected in, by intermixture with the Leicesters, 133. Southdown sheep, description of the, 77 ; range of the, 92 ; former characteristics of the, 93 ; attempts to improve them by crosses with the Leicesters and Merinos, 93 ; great improvement in, effected by Mr. Ellman, 93; pre- valence of crosses with the Kent, Dorsetshire, Norfolk, Suffolk, and Cambridgeshire, 95 ; crossed by Lord Soinerville with Spanish Merinos, 70 ; can, with proper care, he reconciled to the most uncongenial climate, 118 ; kept in Dorsetshire, Somersetshire, Devonshire, and Cornwall, 97 ; good hedth of the, 95; what owing to, 95 ; brown colouring of the, 92 ; average dead weight of the, 95 ; recent improvement in the hogget- wool of, 95. Spain, plains of, question of the advantages of cultivating the, 57 ; sheep probably established in, before the pre- dominance of the Roman power, 52. Spanish sheep, ancient breeds of, 51; preservation of, in the midst of civil convulsions, 52 ; all trace of the history of the, lost in 466, 52 ; the importance of the, re-established in the beginning of the eighteenth cen- tury, 52; celebrity of some breeds of, 51 ; mixed breeds of, 53; Merinos, defects of the, 54; selection of, im- ported into England in 1791, 68; prejudice against, in England, 68; advocates for, in England, 68; success of, in England, 68 ; shepherds, 56. Sphenoid bone, the, 176. Spirit of tar, 219. Spleen, description of the, 196. Spontaneous generation, the doctrine of, 209. Squamous portion of the temporal bone, 175. Staffordshire sheep, old breed of, 104. Staggers in the lamb, symptoms, and treatment of, 215. Staple, the, proper character of, 14. Steatopygus breed of sheep, the, 36 ; change in, produced by transportation into the interior districts of Russia, 36; the Tartarian, description of, 36. Stells, for mountain sheep, proper form for, 89 ; the intro- duction of, in the Scotch mountains, 119 ; saving of sheep in a farm provided with, compared with one with- out, 89. Stephen, flourishing condition of the wool manufacture in the reign of, 145. Stephenson, Mr., two cases of dry braxy treated by him, 188. Stimulants, 219. Strains, wounds, and bruises, 211. Strangles, or strangulation, symptoms of, 201 ; treatment of, 201. Strasburg, Merinos presented to the Agricultural Society of, 62. Stuart, Sir James, his importation of Spanish Merino s into Ireland, 71. INDEX TO THE SHEEP. Stuff, what, 155. Sturdy, the, symptoms of, 179; appearances presented on opening tlie skull after, 179 ; singular case of, 179. SuhorbitJil foramen, the, 175 j sinuses, the, present in the sheep, 18. Suffolk, the sheep, 115 ; peculiar breed of heath sheep of, 113; superseded by the Southdowns, 114 ; the rearing of Southdown sheep in, 115. Sulphate of mercury, or Ethiop's mineral, 216; combina- tion of, with nitre and sulphur, 217. Sulphur, 216. Superfine cloths, short wool of English growth inadmissible for, 92. Sussex, Western, breed of sheep of, 95. Supra-orbital foramina, 175. Surrey, the sheep of, 96 ; Dorset sheep reared in, 96. Sutton Coldfield sheep, see Cannock Heath sheep. Sweden, the native sheep of, 61 ; the Merino sheep of Spain first naturalised in, 60 ; management of sheep in, 61. Swedes, (turnips,) considered as an article of food for sheep, 94.. Swedish government, establishment of a pastural school by the, 61 ; Merinos, management of the, 61 ; sheep, im- provement in the breed of, since 1764, 61 ; turnip, the, more nutritious than the common white, 166. Swelling of the joints, or leg evil, 203 ; treatment of, 203. Syria, ancient passages in the Bible relating to the sheep of, 35 ; consumption of mutton in, 38 ; price of mutton in, 38. Syrian sheep, management of the, 37 ; fat-tailed, descrip- tion of the, 37 ; goat, the long-eared, 161. Table of the cattle and other produce exported from Ire- land in 1825 and 1835, 141 ; of the woollen exports from the United Kingdom, during the years 1831 to 1837, 151. Tar, 219, 220 ; disadvantage of, for smearing sheep, 89. Tares, considered as an article of food for sheep, 94 ; manner of sowing, 166. Taste, the sense of, in the sheep, 90 ; diversity of, in various breeds, 169. Tartrate of antimony, 217. Taruga, the, description of, 156. Tedal, the, see Ovis Tragelaplius. Tedderley sheep, description of the, 104 ; cross between the, and the Leicesters, 104 ; between the, and the Southdowns, 104. Teeswater breed, description of the, 128 ; long-woolled, the, 128; the old, 112; gradual obliteration of, 129; cross of, with the Dishleys, 129 ; advantages of the cross between the, and the Dishley sheep, 129; fertility of the, 129 ; improvement in the wool of the, 129. Teeth of the sheep, proper manner of examining the, 75 ; enamel of the, 74 ; the incisor, 74 ; decline and fall of the, 78 ; appearance of, at birth, 75 ; at a month old, 75 ; at 15 months, 75 ; at 2 years, 75 ; between 2 and 3 years, 75 ; at 3 years, 75 ; at 4 years, 75 ; at 6 years, 75. Terceira wool, what, 56. Tessier, M., his directions concerning the prevention of la maladie de Soloyne, 187. Tetanus, true spasmodic, may arise without any assignable cause, 183; prevention of, easy, 183; causes of, 183; symptoms of, 183; treatment of, 183; rarity of, in canine animals, 184; cases of, in the dog, 184. Thibet goat, the, 161 ; introduction of, into England, 163 ; cross between, and the Angola goat, 63; shawls made at Paisley from the wool of, 163. Thompson, Mr. H. S., his conclusion concerning mangel wurzel, 165 ; his remarks on the temperature of the animal body, 172. Thomson, his account of a snow-drift, 85. Thrush, or apthae of the mouth, symptoms of, 200 ; epi- demic, 201 ; connection between, and ulcerated foot-rot. 201 ; treatment of, 201 ; adopted in France in 1745, 201. Thyatira, the trade of dying purple extensively carried on at, 44. Timothy grass, common, or meadow cat's tail grass, 169. Tocheniin,M., his account of inflammation of the spleen, 196. Tongue, inflammation of the, and the parts adjacent, see Blain. Tonics, 217. Top-dressing, the practice of, in the Scotch mountains, 119. Towers, Mr., his attempt to acclimatize the Thibet goat in England, 163. Transhumantes, management of a flock of, 55; long jour- neys of, 54 ; journey of the flocks of, from the hills to the planes, 55 ; injury often done to vineyards and cultivated tracts of land by the flocks of, 58 ; fleece of the, 56 ; process of shearing the, 56 ; wintering of, 55 ; return of, to their mountain pastures, 56. Trephine, nse of the, 176. Trimmer, Mr., his account of the Rambouillet flock of sheep in 1827, 65. Trueness of staple, what, 15. Tschabawn, Russian keeper of sheep, habits of the, 47 ; proceedings of the, and his flock in flne weather, 48 ; his night arrangements, 48 ; an old Russian, his account of a snow-storm, 47. Tunis, caps manufactured at, 42. Tunisian caps, the process of manufacturing them, 42. Turbinated bone, the inferior, 176 ; the superior, 176. Turner, Sir Charles, his description of the routine of treat- ment to which the old breed of Ryeland sheep were habituated, 102. Turner, Sharon, his account of the Britons at the time of the arrival of the Saxons, 32. Turnip, the, considered as an article of food for sheep, 94 ; crop, the, liable to failure, 165; system, the, 164; hus- bandry, the introduction of, 94 ; advantages of, 94 ; Swedes, considered as food for sheep, 94. Turpentine, 219. Turnsick, the, see Sturdy. Twin-lambs, common, 81 ; some breeds of sheep more noted for the production of, then others, 81 ; one often repulsed by the mother, 81 ; management of one, when deserted by its mother, 81. Two-pounder, Mr. Bakewell's ram called, 125. Tyre, passage in the Penny Cyclopedia relative to the dyed wools of, 43, 44. Ulceration of the mucous membrane of the intestinal canal, a common result of dysentery, 192. Unguent recommended by Mr. Hogg to be rubbed over sheep after shearing, 220. United States, sheep of the, 73 ; supplies of wool to the, 73 ; exports and imports of the, 73. Ventricles of the heart, difference between the two, 173 ; the right, danger of an accumulation of blood in the, 173 ; provisions for strengthening, 173. Verdigris, or acetate of copper, 219. Vernal grass, the sweet-scented, 168. Veterinary surgeon, should be had recourse to, without any needless delay, 172, 199, 216. Vicuna, the, 156, 158 ; description of the, 158 ; habits of the, 158. Vigors, Mr., his statement concerning the llama, 160. Virgil, his description of a housewife, 4; of the pastoral tribes of Libya, 8 ; his directions concerning the manage- ment of sheep, 8 ; his injunctions to the keepers of sheep, 6 ; his notice of the scab, 207. Wales, the hill and vale sheep of, 106 ; the introduction of turnip husbandry into, 106; neglect of sheep in, 107 ; the starving system prevalent in, 107 ; the woollen manu- facture of, 154. INDEX TO THE SHEEP. Wallachian sheep, the, (Ovis Aries,) 35; description of the, 35 ; specimen of the, presented to the Zoological Society, 35 ; tlie, superseded by the Merino, 49; sheep- skins, utility of, 49 ; wool, 49 ; lambskins, value of, 49. Weald, the sheep of the, 96. Weaning of lambs, 214 ; management of, 214. Weaving, antiquity of the art of, 3. Wells, the ancient, used for watering sheep, 7. Welsh sheep, general character of the, 104; crossings of the, with Leicesters and Cotswolds, 106 ; with South- downs and Cheviots, 106; mutton, 104; peasantry, change in the domestic economy of the, as respects the manufacture of wool, 108. West country cloth, the, 153. Westmoreland, the sheep of, 109; the black-faced sheep of, 77. Wethers, treatment of, by the Sussex breeders, 94. White, Mr., his account of the effect of bleeding in epedeniic pneumonia, 197 ; of the adoption of a leverett by a cat, 82 ; his remarks on the Sussex sheep, 95. White-lead, 219. Wicklow, introduction of the Southdown sheep into, by the Farming Society of Ireland, 139. Wild sheep of the Himalayan regions, (Ovis Ammonoides), description of the, 26. Wiltshire sheep, the old breed of, 97 ; management of, 97 ; and Sussex sheep, difference in the, 97 ; crosses of Merino sheep with the old breed of, 97 ; ewes, crossings of, by Mr. Bartly with Merino rams, 68 ; merged into the Southdown sheep, 97; advantages derived from the intro- duction of Southdownsinto, 97 ; the woollen manufactures of, 153. Winchester, establishment of a woollen manufactory at, 145; the manufactures of, in the reign of Stephen, 145 ; manu- factory at, disputed question whether short or long wool was employed in the, 14.5; conjectured to have been supplied with wool of long staple, 31. Wiring, the operation of, 180. Woburn, experiment tried at, concerning rye-grass, 169. Wokey Hole, the cavern of, 100. Wold sheep, the, of Lincolnshire, 131. Wolf, the, common in Ireland long after their extirpation from England, 138. Wolves, their attacks on the sheep of Southern Russia, 47, 48. Woodland sheep, the, 109. Wool, the growth of, 13 ; mixed with the hair of most quadrupeds, 10; when coarse, and when fine, 14; varia- tions in the fineness of, influenced by soil and climate, 14; by feeding, 14; utility of, 2; early and rapid improvement in, 10; deterioration in, caused by high feeding, 78; annual production of, in Great Britain, 2; quantity of, exported from England in 1837, 152; quan- tity of, imported into the United Kingdom in 1837, 152; quantity of, retained for home consumption, 152; quan- tity of, re-exported, 152; the black, of Spain, apt to break out in the legs and ears of the Merino 'race, 52'; growers of Barbary, frauds practised by them, 43 ; spin- ning practised by Anglo-Saxon females of the highest rank, 32 ; combing, changed into short, 91 ; short account of the gradual decline of, and increase of long, 137 ; causes of the alteration in the character of, 136. Woollen cloths of Britain early celebrated, 31 ; flourishing condition of the manufacture during the time of the Romans, 31; probable effect on, produced by the with- drawal of the Romans from Britain, 32 ; manufactures, rising prosperity of, in the reign of Stephen, 146; vari- ous manufactures, 154. Woollen trade, decay of in the reign of Henry II., 147 ; decline of, in the reigns of John, Henry III., Edward I., and Edward II., IIG ; revival of, in the reign of Edward III., 147; stagnation of, from the time of Edward III. to the accession of George III., 149; estimate of, from 1700 to 1836, 150; prosperity of, in 1354, 148 ; estimate of the value of the, in 1834, 152 ; the, between England and Ireland, 140. Worcestershire, old breed of sheep in, 103; present breed of sheep in, 103; the dyers of, 146. Worsted, derivation of the name of, 130, 153. Wurtemberg, the Duke of, flock of Spanish sheep purchased by him in 1786, 62. Yew, foliage of the, poisonous, 202. Yolk, the, 174; nature and properties of, 13. Yorkshire, the sheep of, 112; short-horned cattle of, treat- ment of the, 78 ; rapid progress of the long-woolled breed of sheep in, 113;_breed of sheep in the East Riding of, 113 ; woollen manufactures of the West Riding of, 152 ; halls established in, for the sale of cloth, 153 ; proportion of the woollen manufactures of, to those of the whole of England, 153. Youatt, Mr., his account of the covering of the mouflon, 21 ; of the recent change in the English fleece, 78 ; of French wool, 65 ; of the sheep supplied to Paris from various parts, 67; of the advantages of smearing, 89; of the excellencies of the Merino breed of sheep, 54; of his discovery concerning the felting properties of wool, 10, 11; of a case of strangles, 201; of the post mortem examination of a sheep killed by rot, 193; his arguments in favor of the antiquity of the British long-woolled sheep, 134; his explanation of the sudden decline of the Merino sheep in the public estimation, 71 ; his notice of various epidemic plagues among sheep, 211 ; his observations on the sheep of Devonshire, 101 ; on the want of action in the capillaries of tlie sheep, 174; on the production of acari, 208; his summing up of the differences between hair and wool, 12. Zawan, Tunisian caps, dyed at, 43. Zuno, the, of Angolo, Congo, &c., description of, 41; termed goitred sheep, 41. Zygomatic or malar bones, the, 175. INDEX TO THE DOG. AcupuNCTURATioN, used in neuralgic affections, 382 ; mode of performing, 382. Adam, Mr., on fungus haematodes, 377. Adeps, the basis of all ointments, 383. African wild dog, description of the, 234. Agasaei, British hunting dogs, description of, 225. Age, the indications of, 335. Albanian dog, description of the, 236. Alcohol, only used in tinctures, 383. Alicant dog, description of the, 289. Aloes, Barbadoes, the best purgative, 383. Alpine spaniel, description of the, 258. Alteratives, the most useful, 383. Alum, a powerful astringent, 383. Amaurosis, symptoms of, 323. American wild dogs, description of the, 234. Ansemia, description of, 339 ; causes of, 339; post mortem appearances, 339. Anasarca, nature of, 352. Andalusian dog, description of the, 289. Angina, nature of, 336. Antimony, the oxide of, a sudorific, 383 ; the black sesqui- sulphuret of, an alterative, 383. Anubis, an Egyptian deity with the head of a dog, 223. Anus, polypus in, 328 ; fistula in the, 361. Aquafortis a caustic, 382. Argus, the dog of Ulysses, 226. Arrian, on hunting, 224. Artois dog, description of the, 289. Ascarides, a species of worms, 359. Ascites, see Dropsy. Attention, an iniportant'faculty, 293. Auscultation, use of, 340. Australasian dog, description of the, 232. Barbary dog, description of the, 289. Barbet, description of the, 252. Bark, Peruvian, a valuable tonic, 383. Barry, a celebrated Bernardine dog, anecdote of, 254. Bath, use of, in puerperal fits, 366. Beagle, description of the, 265. Bell, Professor, opinion on the origin of the dog, 222. Bernardine dog, description of the, 253. Billy, a celebrated terrier, 287. Bladder, inflammation of the, 357; rupture of the, 358. Blain, nature, causes, treatment, and post mortem appear- ances, 333. Blaine, Mr., opinion on keimel lameness, 273; on tetanus, 347 ; on dropsy, 352 ; on calculus, 357 ; on distemper, 372 ; on mange, 376. Bleeding, best place for, 361 ; directions for, 361 ; useful in epilepsy, 298 ; useful in distemper, 371. Blenheim spaniel, description of the, 249. Blisters, uses of, 383 ; composition, 383 ; mode of applying and guarding, 383. Bloodhound, description of the, 278. ' Brain, comparative bulk of, in different animals, 290 ; description of the, 290. Breaking-in of hounds, 270; cruelty disadvantageous, 294. Breeding of greyliounds, 242; should always be permittt'd, British hunting dogs, Agasnsei, description of, 225. Bronchocele, nature of, 337 ; causes and treatment of, 337. Buansu, or Nepal dog, description of, 229. Buffon, opinion as to the origin of the dog, 289. Bull-dog, description of the, 284; crossed with the grey- hound, 240. Bull-terrier, description of the, 285. C^cUM, description of the, 345. Calculus, nature, causes, and treatment of 356 ; in the intestines, causes of, 349 ; cases, 349. Calomel, a dangerous medicine, 384 ; should not be used in enteritis, 347. Cancer, symptoms of, 377 ; treatment of, 377. Canis, genus, 227 ; familiaris, sub-genus, 227. Canker in the ear, causes, symptoms, and treatment of, 323 ; cases of, 324. Canute, law concerning greyhounds by, 238. Cardia, description of the, 344. Castor oil, a valuable purgative, 384. Castration, proper time for, 363 ; mode of performing, 363 ; not recommended, 363. Cataract in the eye, 322. Catarrh, a cause of distemper, 367 ; naval, 369. Catechu, an astringent, 384. Caustic, lunar, the best, 383. Cayotte, description of the, 234. Chabert, anecdote of the dog of, 258. Chalk, an astringent, 384. Charles I., anecdote of the dog of, 239. Charles II.'s spaniel, description of, 249. Chest, anatomy and diseases of the, 338 ; proper form of it in the greyhound, 241 ; in the fox-hound, 267. Chest-founder, nature, causes, and treatment of, 301. Chloride of lime, uses of, 384. Chorea, nature of, 299; causes, 299; treatment, 299; cases, 300 ; in distemper, 373, 374. Chryseus scylex, or dhole, description of the, 230. Claret, a celebrated greyhound, 241. Classification, zoological, 227. Climate, effect of, 227. Clysters, uses of, 384. Coach-dog, description of the, 236. Cocker, description of the, 248. Colic, causes, symptoms, and treatment of, 349. Colon, the, 346 ; rupture of the, 348. Colour of the greyhound, 242 ; of the pointer, 281. Constipation, causes and treatment of, 350. Copper, preparations of, and their uses, 384. Coryza, the early stage of distemper, 370. Costiveness, causes and treatment of, 350 ; means of pre- venting, 351. Cough, spasmodic, nature and treatment of, 341. Coursing, Ovid's description of, 237 ; anecdotes of, 240, 241 ; laws of, 385 ; general rules for the guidance of judges, 386 ; local rules, 386. Creosote, a dangerous medicine, 384 ; useful in canker, 325. Creta, an astringent, 384. Cropping of the ears, 293 ; deafness frequently caused by, 393 ; disapproved of, 326 ; proper method of, 327. Cross-breeding, effect of, 227. Cuba, mastiff of, 286. Cur, description of the, 264. Cyprus, greyhounds of, described, 243. Cygnosurus cristatus, an useful emetic, 344. INDEX TO THE DOG. Czarina, a celebrated greyhound, 240. Dakhun wild dog, description of the, 230. Dalmatian dog, description of the, 236. Danish sacrifices of dogs, description of, 235 ; dog, descrip- tion of the, 236. Deal), description of the, 234. Deafness frequently caused by cropping, 293. Deer-hound, description of the, 244. Delafond, Professor, his table of the diagnostic symptoms of pleurisy and pneumonia, 343. Dentition, formula of, 334. Dew-claws, 294 ; their removal unnecessary, 294. Dhole, description of the, 230. Diaphragm, description of the, 338. Diarrhoea, cause, nature, and treatment of, 350 ; habitual, 350. Dick, Professor, on rabies, 314 ; on the use of the ergot of rye, 365. Digestion, the process of, 344, 345. Digitalis, the uses of, 384. Digitigrade, an order of animals, 227. Dingo, description of the, 232. Distemper, origin of the name, 367 ; is a new disease, 367 ; causes of, 367 ; is contagious, 367 ; is epidemic, 367 ; effects on different breeds, 368 ; symptoms, 368 ; nature of, 369 ; duration, 370 ; post-mortem appearances, 370 ; treatment, 371 ; a cause of epilepsy, 298; sometimes terminates in palsy, 374. " Dog, early history of the, 221 ; used as a heast of draught, 221 ; for food, 222, 235 ; uses of the skin of the, 222 ; origin of, 222, 227 ; mention of in the Old and New Testaments, 223 ;' anecdotes of the sagacity and fidelity of, 225 ; changes produced in, by breeding and climate, 227 ; zoological description of, 227 ; natural divisions of 228 ; sacrificed by the Greeks and Romans, 235 ; by the Danes and Swedes, 235 ; African, wild, 234 ; Alba- nian, 236 ; Alicant, 289 ; Alpine spaniel, 253 ; American, wild, 234 ; Andalusian, 289 ; Artois, 289 ; Australasian, 232 ; Barbary, 289 ; barbet, 252 ; beagle, 265 ; black and tan spaniel, 249 ; Blenheim spaniel, 249 ; blood- hound, 278 ; British, 225; bull, 284 ; bull -terrier, 285 ; coach, 236; cocker, 248; cur, 264; Dakhun, 230; Dalmatian, 236 ; Danish, 236 ; drover's, 263 ; Egyptian, 289 ; Esquimaux, 256 ; fox-hound, 267 ; French matin, 237 ; French pointer, 282 ; gasehound, 245 ; Grecian, 224 ; Grecian greyhound, 246 ; greyhound, 237 ; hare Indian, 236 ; harrier, 266 ; Highland greyhound, 244 ; Hyrcanian, 225 ; Iceland, 287 ; Irish greyhound, 245 ; Italian greyhound, 247 : Italian wolf, 263 ; Javanese, 232 ; King Charles' spaniel 249 ; Lapland, 258 ; lion, 252; Locrian, 225 ; lurcher, 264 ; Mahratta 230 ; Maltese, 252; mastiff, 285; Molossian, 225 ; Nepal, 229 ; New- foundland, 254; New Zealand, 233; otter, 284; Pan- nonian, 225; pariah, 231; Persian greyhound, 246; pointer, 281; Polugar, 230; poodle, 251; Portuguese pointer, 282 ; Kussian greyhound, 246 ; Russian pointer, 282 ; Scotch greyhound, 244 ; Scotch terrier, 288 ; setter, 279 ; sheep, 258 ; shock, 289 ; southern hound, 278 ; spaniel, 247 ; Spanish pointer, 281 ; springer, 249 ; stag- hound, 277 ; Sumatran wild, 232 ; terrier, 287 ; Thibet, 231 ; Turkish, 252 ; Turkish greyhound, 246 ; Turnspit, 284; water spaniel, 249; wilil, 229 ; wolf, 245. Dog-carts, prohibition of, disapproved, 221 ; should he licensed, 293. Dog-pits, 295. Dog-stealing, 295. Dog's-tail grass, the use of, 344. Dogs, Isle of, cu-iginof the name, 239. Drospy, 351; causes of, 351; cases of, 351; treatment of, 352. Drover's dog, description of the, 263. Duodenum, the, 344. Dupuy, M., on diseases of the spinal marrow, 302. Dysentery; nature of, 350 ; treatment of, 350. Ear, diseases of the, 323 ; vegetating excrescences in the, 325 ; eruptions in the, 326 ; cropping of the, 326 ; polypi in the, nature and treatment of, 327 ; pain of, an early symptom in rabies, 307. Egyptian worship of the dog, 223 ; dog, description of the, 289. Elfric, king of Mercia, possessed greyhounds, 238.' Emetic tartar, uses of, 383. Emetics, useful in distemper, 371. Enteritis, causes, symptoms, and treatment of, 347. Epiglottis, description of the, 336, Epilepsy, causes of, 297 ; treatment of, 298 ; cases, 298 ; puerperal, 366 ; in distemper, 369, 372. Epsom Salts, a purgative, 384. Ergot of Rye, use of, in parturition, 364, 365, Esquimaux dog, description of the, 256. Ethiopia, a dog elected king of, 223. Ethmoid bones, description of the, 328. Extremities, bones of the, 296. Eye, distinctive form of the, 222, 227 ; diseases of the, 320 ; construction of the, 320 ; cases of disease of the, 321 ; congenital blindness, 322 ; ophthalmia, 322 ; cataract, 322 ; amaurosis, 323 ; appearance of in rabies, 310 ; ap- pearance of in distemper, 368. Feet, sore, 378. Femur, fracture of the, 379. Fighting-pits, 295. Fistula in the anus, causes and treatment of, 361. Fits, symptoms of, 297 ; treatment of, 298 ; distemper, 369, 372 ; puerperal, 366. Fitzhardinge, Lord, his management of hounds, 273. Flogging hounds, disapproval of, 270. Food, the dog used for, 222, 235 ; of the greyhound, 243 ; of the foxhound, 274 ; insufficient, a cause of distemper, 367. Fore-arm, fracture of the, 379. Foxhound, description of the, 267 ; size and proper con- formation of, 268 ; pupping, 269 ; treatment of whelps, 269; breaking-in, 270 ; management in the field, 271 ; general management and food of, 274 ; Lord Fitzhar- dinge's management, 273. Fractures, most frequent in young dogs, 379 ; of the hunre- rus, 379; of the thigh, 379 ; of the femur, 379 ; of tlie radius, 379 ; of the fore-arm, 379 ; of the shoulder, 380 ; of the pelvis, 381 ; of the skull, 381. French pointer, description of the, 2b2. Fungus hcematodes, a case of, 377 ; post mortem appear- ances, 378. Gasehound, description of the, 245. Gelert, the dog of Llewellyn, poem on the death of, 239. Gentian, a stomachic and tonic, 384. Ghoo-khan, or wild ass, hunted by Persian greyhounds, 247. Giddiness, nature and treatment of, 297. Ginger, a cordial and tonic, 384. Glass, powdered, the best vermifuge, 359, 371. Goitre, nature of, 337 ; cause and treatment of, 337. Goodwood kennel, description of, 275 ; plan of, 276. Grecian dogs, description of, 224 ; sacrifices of dogs, 235 ; greyhound, desciiption of the, 246. Greyhound, description of the, 237 ; puppies, cut of, 224 ; origin of, 238; known in England in the Anglo-Saxon period, 238 ; old verses describing the, 240; cross with the bull-dog, 240 ; proper conformation of, 241 ; colour of, 242 ; breeding, 242 ; rules for age, 243 ; food, 243 ; training, 243 ; laws for coursing with, 383 ; English, 238; Grecian, 246; Highland, 244 ; Iiish, 245 ; Italian, 247 ; Persian, 246 ; Russian, 246 ; Scotch, 244 ; Turkish, 246. INDEX TO THE DOG. iii Grognier, Professor, description of the 'French sheep-dog, 259. Gullet, description of the, 3ii. Hare Indian dog, description of the, 236. Harrier, description of the, 266. Head, bones of the, 296; form of in the foxhound, 267. Heart, description of the, 339 j action of the, 339 ; rupture of the, S-tO. Hecate, dogs sacriiiced to, 235. Hepatitis, causes, symptoms, and treatment of, SSi. Hertwich, Professor, on rabies, 318. Highland greyhound, description of the, 244. Hindoos regard the dog unclean, 223. Hogg, James, anecdotes of his dog, 261. Hog'slard, the basis of all ointments, 383. Hound, the various kinds of, 265 ; blood, 278 ; fox, 267 ; otter, 284 ; southern, 278 ; stag, 277. Humerus, fracture of the, 379. Hunting with dogs first mentioned by Oppian, 224. Hunting kennels, 272. Huntsman, the requisites of a, 271. Hydatids in the kidneys, 356. Hydrocyanic acid useful in cases of irritation of the skin, 382. Hydrophobia, see Rabies. Hyrcanian dog, description of the, 225. Iceland dog, description of the, 287. Ileum, description of the, 345. Incontinence of urine, 358. India, degeneration of dogs in, 230. Inflammation of the lungs, 340 ; of the stomach, 344 ; of the intestines, 347 ; of the peritoneal membrane, 348 j of the liver, 358; of the kidney, 356, of the bladder, 357 ; of the fat, 378. Intelligence of the dog, 290 ; anecdotes illustrative of , the, 291. Intestines, description of the, 345 ; inflammation of the, 347. Intussusception, nature and causes of, 350 ; treatment, 350. Iodine, a valuable medicine in goitre, 337 ; in dropsy, 353. Irish greyhound, description of the, 245 ; wolfdog, 245 ; setter, 279. Italian greyhound, description of the, 247 ; wolfdog, 263. James's powder, a sudorific,'383. Jaundice, causes, symptoms, and treatment of, 354. Javanese dog, description of the, 232. Jejunum, description of the, 345. Jenner, Dr., on distemper, 373. Jews regard the dog with abhorrence, 223. John, King, kept many dogs, 238 ; received greyhounds in lieu of fines, 239. Kamtchatka, uses of the dog as a beast of draught in, 221. Karazahe, or New Zealand dog, description of the, 233. Kinnel, description of, 272 ; Goodwood, 275 ; plan of Goodwood, 276 ; for watchdog, construction of, 294 ; hare, use of, 294 ; lameness, nature of, 272 ; causes of, 272 ; means of prevention, 273, Kidney, inflammation of the, 356; hydatids in the, 356. King Charles's sp miel, description ot, 249. Lachrymal duct, description of the, 329. L.npland dog, descri^jtion of the, 258. Lard, the basis of all ointments, 383. Larynx, description of the, 336 ; inflammation of the, 336. Laws of coursing, 385. Leblanc, M., on jaundice, 354. Leonard, M., his exhibition of dogs, 291. Lime, chloride of, the uses of, 384. Lion dog, description of the, 252. Lips, functions of the, 334 ; swellings of the, 334. Liver, description of the, 353 ; functions of the, 353 ; in- flammation of the, 353. Llewellyn, poem on the dog of, 239. Locrian dog, description of the, 225. Lunar caustic, the best, 383 ; recommended for tites of rabid dogs, 316. Lungs, inflammation of the, 340 ; congestion of the, 341. Lurcher, description of the, 264. Madness, canine, see Rabies. Magnesia, sulphate of, a purgative, 384. Mahratta dog, description of the, 230. Majendie, his experiments on the olfactory nerves, 331. Major, a celebrated greyhound, 241. Maltese dog, a description of the, 252. Mammalia, a class of animals, 227. Management of the pack, 274. Mange, nature of 375 ; is hereditary, 376 ; the scabby, 376 ; treatment of, 376 ; causes of, 376 ; frequently causes goitre, 337. MastiflT, description of the, 283 ; used in Cuba to hmnt the Indians, 286. Matui, description of the, 237. Maxillary bones, description of the, 329. Meatus, description of the, 329. Medicines, a list of the most useful, 382 ; mode of admi- nistering, 382. Medullary substance of the brain, 290. Memory of the dog, 293. Mercury, preparations of, 384 ; uses of, 384. Milk, accumulation of, in the teats, 363 ; secretion of, connected with cancer, 377. Mohammedan abhorrence of dogs, 223. Molossian dog, description of the, 22 5. Moral qualities of the dog, 282. Nasal bones, description of the, 329 ; catarrh, nature of, 369 ; cavity, polypus in the, 328. Neck, should be long in the greyhound, 241, Nepal dog, description of the, 229. Nerves, description of the, 290. Nervous system, diseases of the, 297. Newfoundland dog, description of the, 254. New Holland dog, description of the, 232. New Zealand dog, description of the, 233. Nimrod, oiiinion of, on kennel lameness, 273 . Nitrate of potash, a useful diuretic, 384. Nitrate of silver, a caustic, 383; recommended forthe bites of rabid dogs, 316; useful in chorea, 299; in canker, Nitric acid, a caustic, 382. Norfolk spaniel, description of the, 249. Nose, anatomy of the, 328 ; diseases of the, 330 ; discharge from the, in distemper, 369. Olfactory nerves, size of, in different animals, 290 ; develop- ment of the, 328 ; description of the, 330. Ophthalmia, symptoms of, 320 ; causes of, 322 ; treatment of 322. Oppian, the first who mentions hunting with dogs, 224 ; description of British dogs, 225. Orbit of the eye, form of the, 321. Orford, Lord, first crossed greyhounds with the _hull-dog, 240 ; death of, 240. Otter-hound, description of the, 284. Ovaries, removal of the, 363. Ovid, description of coursing by. 237. Ozeena, nature and treatment ol, 3iO. Palate, veil of, 329 ; inflammation if die, C29. INDEX TO THE DOG. Palsy, causes of, 301; treatment of, 302; a consequence of chorea, 299 ; a consequence of distemper, 374. Palm oil, an emollient, 381'. Pancreas, functions of the, 356. Pannonian dog, description of the, 225. Pariah, description of the, 231. Parry, Captain, description of the Esquimaux dogs, 256. Parturition, time of, 363 ; management during, 364; use of the ergot of rye, 364, 365 ; inversion of the uterus after, 866. Pelvis, fracture of, 381. Percivall, Mr. on fractures, 380. Pericardium, description of the, 338; case of a wound in the, 339. Peritonitis, symptoms and treatment of, 348. Persian greyhound, description of the, 249. Peruvian bark, a valuable tonic, 383. Phlegmonous tumour, nature and treatment of, 338. Pleurisy, nature of, 340 ; diagnostic symptoms of, 343. Pneumonia, nature and treatment of, 340; diagnostic symp- toms of, 343 ; distemper, 371 ; a consequence of small- pox, 375. Pointer, compared with the setter, 280; early training of, 282 f breaking in, 282; English, 281; French, 282; Portuguese, 282 ; Russian, 282 ; Spanish, 281. Pollux, the introduction of hunting with dogs attributed to, 224. Polugar dog, description of the, 230. Polypus in the ear, 327 ; in the nasal and anal cavities, 328 ; in the vagina, 328. Pomeranian wolfdog, description of the, 263. Poodle, description of the, 251. Portuguese pointer, description of the, 282. Potash, the nitrate of, a useful diuretic, 384. Prussic acid, usclul in cases of irritation of the skin, 382. Puerperal fits, causes, nature, and treatment of, 366. Pulse of various animals, 339. Pupping, see Parturition. Purging in distemper, 369 ; should be avoided, 372. Pythagoras, his high opinion of the virtues of the dog, 223. Rabies, 303; case.y roynl edicts, 409. Vertebrae, table showing the difterait number of, in varjous breeds of the h ig, 433. Vetch(-s, useful in leedmg pigs, 479. Vineyar, use ol, in inflammaiory epidemics, 487; phrenitis, 487. Virgil, lines from, on the " Bristled Bo.ir," 416. Vlacke-vark, 401 ; two specimens of the, at llie Hague, 402 ; description of the, 402. I Wallachian breed of pigs, 455. I Warren, Mr. George, his opinion respecting the Mosaic pmhibition ajjainst thn flrsh of swine. 435. Wart hog, the South Afncan, 401 ; chnracicrs of, 401. Warted wild hog, description of the, 395. Watertoii, Mr., liis notice of the feral swine of the New World, 431 ; picture of a Roman si ivighter-house, 45 1. Weaning pigs, best mode of proceeding m, 483 ; proper age for, 483. Weight to which hogs may be fed, 403. WfStt-rn, Lord, improved breed of Essex pigs established by, 468. AVestphalia, breed of pigs of, 455 ; hams of, 455. Whey, highly nutritious for pigs, 478. Whitaker, Rev. J., on the immense forests of Great Britain, 410. White, Gilbert, instance of the fecundity of a sow given by, 446. White-lipped peccary, description of the, 404, 405. Wild boar, habits of the, 416 ; prevalence of the, in England, during the British, Roman, and Saxon periods, 410. Wild hog, the lianded, 395 ; the bearded, 394 ; the crested, 394; the common, 393; the masked, 395; the Papuan, 395 ; the warted, 395. Williamson, Captain, on the activity of the wild hog, 419 ; on dislodging the wild hog from cane plantations, 420; s of, 566, Cramming gei se, l;aibarit> oft) e | ractice o'', 602; turkeys, the mode of, 559; well-fed, uselt-ssness of the, 559; turkey-chicks, uselessness ol the practice of, 557. Cravat goose, the, see Canada goose Crax, the f;eiius, characteristics of, 568. Curassows, arboreal in their halms, 566, 567 ; directions for naturalising, 567 ; galeated, colour ol the, 568 : t' e, easi y domesticated, 668 ; the. and the crested most fitted (or the expel ini-eit of domestication, 569 ; habiis and manners if ihe, 568 ; crested, be uties ol the, 5fi9 ; habiis of the, 568; range of tlie, 568; guan, dtsciiption of the, 569; difierence between the male and lemale, 570; the globose, 570. Cushat, see Ring-dove. Cuvier, M., a portion of his description of the Honduras turkey, 549. C.ignets, young swans, 592. Cygnma, the sub-f,imily, 591. Cygnus anatoides, range ol, 591. Dafila, bill of the genus, 584. Decoy-ducks, the use of, 587 ; man, proceedings of the, 587. Decoys, management of, in fenny countries, 586, 587. Deiidronessa, bill of the genus, 585. Derby, game breed of idwis possessed by the Earl of, 509. Diarihoea, simple, treatment of, 545. Dickson, Mr., fattening for turkeys recommended by him, 559. Disi ases of fowls, 64.3 ; ignorance respecting the treatment of the, 544; little attention paid to the, 544. Divii g ducks, amazing strength of the gizzard of, 582. Domestication, changes ol form produced in fowl hy, 504. Domestic animals, advantage of understanding the nature of the, 603 ; birds, obscurity ol the early history of, 494, 497 ; common goose, the, 598 ; duck, habits of the, 588 ; the, not fastidious in its appetite, 588; proper locality for the, 588 ; pigeons, food of, 581 ; turkey, the, 555 ; different coloured breed of the, 555; cock, characteristics of the, 555. Dorking fowl, description of the, 51-3 ; antiquity of the breed of, 513 ; the five claws of the, 513 ; merits of the, 513 ; prevalence of white in the colour of the, 513. Dove-cote pigeons, the, of Western Asia, Syria, and Egypt, 574. Dove's dung, reason for the dearne.ss of, mentioned in the Second Book ol Kings, 576. Doyle, Martin, his opinion ol the advantage of a cottager keeping fowls, 519. Dragon or Dragoon pigeon, the, a cross between the carrier and an ordinary breed, 579. Duck, the common (anas boschas), 585. Ducks, various, different nodes of feeding of, 582; habits of domestic, much modified, 589 ; lodging places for, 588. Dysentery, caused by want of sufficient nutriment, 601 ; prescription for the cure of, 545. Ecc.\LEOBioN, the, description of, 539. Egg, change in the, after twelve hours' sitting, 629 ; at the commencement of ihe second day, 529 ; at the close of the second day, 529: on the third day, 529; on the fourth day, 529; on the filth day, 529 : on the sixth div, 530 ; on the ninth day, 530; on the twelfih or thiiteenth day, 530; on the eijiliteenth or nineteenth day, 530; the, sometimes destitute of a shell, 528; formation r daughter, the, should attend to the management of the poultry, 521. Farm-houses, advantages enjoyed hy fowls attached to 521. Feathers, extract from the paper on, in the Pinny Ci/clo- p-lag wild goose (attser palustris), the, 596 ; occasional of, to Kng 597; range of, 597; vigilance of. Great Malay fowl, the (gallus giganteus), 503; coloitr of, 503; getieral form of, 503 ; iiii|)0rtation ot, into England, 504 ; manner of resting, 503. Grece, the goose common in, 598. Grei'ii vegetables considered as food for graminivorous hi,ds573. Guan, the crested, 569. Guano, the, of Persia, 575. Guiana, the mi.sk ducks in, hab^s of, 590. Guinea-fowl, thf, or pintado (.\uintda meleagris), 564 : not a common bird, 565 ; all trace of, Inst through the middle ag.s, 564; carefol watching reqMired by, 565 ; difficulty in tricing the history of, 564 ; excellence of the flesh of, 565 ; disagreealile voice of, 566 ; habits and manners of, 564; method of obtaining a brond of, in June, 565; niamier of going to roost of, 566 ; resemblance between the n.ale and female, 566. II ARMER, Mr. his observations on the pigeons of Egypt, 575. Heart, inflammation of the, 545; notknown in the coninion fowl, 545 ; progress to perfection of the, 529. Heeren, M., his explanation respecting the names Tarshish and Ophir, 497. Helmet pigeon, the, 580. Hen, cruelty of making her sit several times in succession, 526; maternal aflT ction of the, 535; coop, the use of a, 534; turkey, caution of the, in concealing her eggs, 553 ; domestic, selection of a, for breeding, 556. Henbane, sometimes given to fattening fowls, 543. Hens sotnetimes take a dislike to some particular cock, 525 ; the diversities among a flock of, 526 ; question of the proper number of, to a cock, 524, 525; selection of, for sitting, 526 ; six young, gains to be expected from, when well managed, 521. Heron, Sir Robert, his observations on pea-fowl, 562. Home, Sir Everard, his account of the gizzard of the turkey, 499. Honduras Turkey (Meleagris ocellafa), 495 ; the points in which it is inferior to the common turkey, 549. Hook-billed duck, the, 589. Hoopt'r-s^van (cygnus ferus), range of the, 591 ; charac- tt-ristics of the, 592. House-pigeons, 574. Hunter, John, his observations concerning the lacteous secretion of some birds, 571. Hybrids, between the common fowl and the pheasant, 546. Hydro-incubator, talile of costs attending the working of a, 541 ; of gains, 541. Ichneumon, the, and the ferret, cannot be said to be fairly domesticated, 493. Incubation, all artificial means of, disapproved, 539 ; various methods of inducing a desire for, 526 ; spot chosen by the peahen for, 562 ; symptoms of a desire for the task of, 526. India, the turkey supposed to be a native of, 547; peafowl extensively kept in, 563. luflaimiiation of the heart, 545 ; of the lungs, 545 ; of the mucous memhraiie of the intestinal c mal, 545 ; peritoneal, 645; of the rump gland, 546 ; ol tlie trachea, 514 Ingluvies, ot the order Risores, description of the, 499; operation of opening thi', 499. Iielaiid, census returns of, 1841, of the value of poultry in, 518. Irish produce, table of the exports of, 517; turkeys, the, 556- Italv, eaily mention of geese in, 598; the goose common in, 598. Jacobine, or Capner pigeon, description of the, 579. Japan peaf iwl, dts.Tipiion of the, 563 : plume of the, 564. Javanese jungle fowl, the (gallus Baiikiva), 505; charac- teristics of, 505 ; allied species of, on the continent of India, 505 ; or Japan peafowl, the, 563. Job, mention of the peacock in the book of, 495. Jones, ,\lr , his'account of the changes in the egg, 530. Juniile, account of an Indian, by an auouvmous writer,. 560, 561. Junglelery district, immense number of peafowl in the. Kent, the, Doiking breed of fowl in, 513. Kings, mention of the dearness of dove's dung, in the Second Bo,,k of, 576. Kitto, l>r., his explmation respecting the names Tarshish and Ophir, 497 ; his ohservations on dove's dung, 576. Kulm foul, the, see Great Malay ; and 510 : specnnens of, sent to Her Majesty's aviary, 510. L venous secretion, the, common to the parrot tribe, 571 ; in pigeons, for the nourishment of the youn^f, 571. Latliam, Mr., his notice of the musk-duck, 590. Lea'lenhall-marks't, salesmen of, 519. Legrand, M., his estimate of the number of eggs annually produced in France, 516. Lincolnshire, Pennant's account of the geese in the fens of, 599. Linnaeus, his adoption of the title meleagris, 547 ; his notice of the musk-duck, 590. London, unfitness of the streets of, for fowls, 522 ; the wild blue pigeons in, 572. Loris, the, attacks of, on the peafowl, 561. Lungs, progress to pnrfection of the, during incubation, 530 ; inflammation of the, in poultry, always fatal, 554 ; symptoms of, 545. Malacorhynchus, bill of the genus, 583. Mamal, or Egyptian hatching-oven, description ot a, 538. Mammalia, species from among the, sul>jected to tuan, 493. Marcgrave, his notice of the musk-duck, 590. Mareca, bill of the genus, 584. Markets, great demand for fowls in, 519. Markwick, Mr., his account of the propensity of Guinea fowls to resort to the top of high trees, 566. Maundeville, Sir John, his notice of a carrier-bird in China, M'CuUoch, Mr., his account of the importance of poultry, 515; his statistical account of pigeons, 574. IV INDEX TO POULTRY. Meleagris, the genus, family of, 548 ; characteristics of, 549 ; supposed to be the turkey of the ancients, 547 ; erroneousness of the theory, 547. Membrana putaminis, 528. Menagerie, a, not adapted to naturalization, 566. Mexico, turkey domesticated in, previous to the Spanish conquest, 546. Migrations of the Canada geese, period of the, 593. Morier, Mr., his description of the pigeon-houses of Ispahan, 495 ; his observations on dove's dung, 576. Moslems, the duck rarely eaten by, 590. Mothers, artificial for chickens, what, 536 ; advantages of, 536. Moulting, is a natural process, 546 ; treatment of fowls during, 546. Mowbray, his description of the interior of a cottage in which ducks are reared, 588. Mucous layer, the, 529 ; membrane of the intestinal canal, inflammation of the, 545 ; causes, symptoms, and treat- ment of, 545. Musk duck, characters of the, 590; the domestic, 590; description of, 591. Mute swan (cygnus olor), range of the, 591. Natatorial order, the, 581 ; the families into which it is divided, 581 ; species reclaimed from the, 581. Nest of the wild duck, spots chosen for the, 587. Nests, proper arrangement of, for poultry, 523. New World, the turkey a native of the, 547. Norfolk, black race of turkeys, the, 556 ; the large turkeys sent from, 559. North America, the breeds of swans of, 591; wild turkeys abound in, 548. Numida meleagris, the genus, characteristics of, 564. Nun pigeon, description of the, 580. Ophir, where situated, 496. Ourax, the genus, characteristics of, 568. Ovary, or egg-producer, the, 527. Oviduct, the, 528. Oviedo, his mention of the turkey, 546. Ovisacs, description of the, 528. Ovula, the, 528. Owl, the horned, the assaults of the, on turkeys, 554 ; the manner in which the turkey parries the attacks of the, 554. Pachydermata, species of, subjected to man, 493. Palestine, great consumption of fowls in, 502. Paraguay, the musk ducks in, 590. Paris, Dr., his opinion concerning the use of the albumen, 529. Parmentier, M., his plan for accommodating 150 hens at roost, in a house twenty feet long, and twelve feet wide, 522. Passenger pigeon, the, of America, 579. Passerine birds, characteristics of, 571. Pate de fois gras, the barbarous mode of making, 589. Peacock, beauty of the, 559 ; the, introduced into Greece before the time of Alexander, 497 ; peafowl, the, 559 ; the cry of, 562 ; the flesh of, 563 ; food of, 562 ; great spread of, 560 ; habits and manners of, 562 ; hardiness of, 562 ; peahen, the, 560. Peak of Derbyshire, flocks of turkeys in the, 559. Peas, vetches, and tares, deleterious to turkeys, 559. Pebbles, or stones, practice of swallowing, to assist diges- tion, 499. Pea bird, a popular term for the female swan, 592. Penelope cristata, characteristics of tlie genus, 569. Penguin duck, the, 589. Pennant, his account of the grey-lag goose, 597; of the operation of plucking geese for their feathers, 600. Penny Cyclopeedia, instance of the peahen assuming the characteristics of the cock, related in the, 563 ; various instances of the ancient employment of carrier-pigeons, given in the, 578. Peritonitis, 545; rapidity of its course, 515. Persia, the dove-towers of, 575 ; the pigeons of, 575 ; pigeons kept in the dove-towers of, 574 ; throne of the king of, 563. Persian, or Rumpless fowl, characteristics of the, 513 ; the flesh of, not good, 513. Phases, the different, of the germ-bearing egg, 529. Phasianidae, the family, 501. Pigeon, description of the, 571 ; voice of the, 572; the, easily familiarised, 574. Pigeons, the cottager should not keep, unless he can make a profit by the rearing and sale of fancy birds, 521 ; characteristics of, 571 ; enormous consumption of food by, 574; their manner of feeding their young, 571 ; the price given for, 574 ; the tarsi of, 571 ; not true perching birds, 571 ; gyratorial flight of the common, 576 ; return of, to a certain s])ot accounted for, 576 ; method of training to perforin long journeys, 577. Pink-footed goose (anser phcenicopus), characteristics of the, 596. Pintail duck, the, 584. Pip, or thrush, 544 ; treatment and symptoms of, 544 ; is symptomatic, 544. Pipe, the, in decoys, 586. Pliny, his account of the pilgrimage of flocks of geese from • France to Rome, 598. Plumage, change in the colour of from fear, 546; instances of, 546. Polish swan (cygnus immutabilis), range of the, 591 ; cha- racteristics of the, 592. Porta, Bapiista, his instructions for taming and training capons as nurses, 535. Poulardes, practice of making, not extensive in England, 543. Poultry, application of the word, 494 ; the origin of, satis- factorily ascertained, 494 ; no mention made of in records ofthe patriarchal age, 495 ; tlie importance of, greaterthan at first sight might appear, 515 ; sources of profit from, 518; returns in 1841 of the value of, in Ireland, 518 ; bad practice to under-feed, 542 ; best food for, 542 ; mode of fattening for the table, 542 ; practice of cram- ming, 543 ; in France by machinery, 543 ; mode of, 543 ; house, under the superintendence of a farmer's wife, de- scription of a, 523 ; Maid, observations on poultry in a work entitled the, 520; shows, objects of, 519; yard, proper arrangement of a, 522. Pouter pigeon, the, a cross between the dragon, and old Dutch cropper, 579 ; description of the, 579 ; nothing pleasing in the appearance ofthe, 579. PriEuestine pavement, pigeons represented on the, 575. Proceedings of the Zoological Society, notice of the gallus giganteus in the, 504; of the Herat fowl in tlie, 504; observations in the, on the gallus Sonneratii, and Stanleyii, 506. Punctum saliens, the, 529. Quadrupeds, the domesticated, various uses of, to man, 493. Querquedula, bill ofthe genus, 584. Guest, see Ring dove. Quill, the, as taken from the bird. 601. Quills, the preparation of, 600, 601 ; the sorting of, 601. Rabbit, the, and the guinea pig, rather prisoneis than subjects to man, 493. Rasores, the order, 498 ; digestive organs of, 499 ; feet of, 498; food of, 499; the form of, 498; habits of, 500; head of,, 499; legs of, 498; senses of, 499; voice of, 499 ; wings of, 49S ; choice of roosting pl.ices by, 501 ; dislike of, to wet and swampv situations, 500 ; manner of cleansing themselves, of, 501. INDEX TO POULTRY. Ray, Mr., his notice of the musk duck, 590. Reaumur, M., on the advantages of rearing capons as nurses, 5">5 ; on the difficulties of, 536 ; his apparatus for sup- plying to chickens the place of a living mother, 536; his preference of it, to a natural parent, 536 ; his experiment concerning the alteration in the position of the chick, 531 ; for hatching eggs from the heat of dung, 538 ; in a room over the bread oven of the institution called L'Enfant Jesus, 539; instance of a sudden dislike taken by two hens to a cock, noticed by, 526 ; his observations on the extrication of the chick from the shell, 532. Rhone duck, the, 588. Richardson, Dr., his account of the arrival of the Canada geese in the Fur Countries, 593 ; of the mode of feeding of the widgeon, 582. Richardson, Mr., his account of the annual export of eggs from Ireland to England, 518 ; passage concerning the rearing of turkeys, quoted by him, 557. Richmond park formerly tenanted by wild turkeys, 547. Ring-dove, habits of the, 573. Ring-necked pheasant, specimen of the, in the Chinese exhibition, 503. Rock-dove, description of the, 573; food of the, 574; wide diffusion of the, 572 ; doves, the great quantity of, found in various parts of the world, 572; pigeon, the wild, 495. Rodentia, animals of the order, subjected to man, 493. Romans, attention paid to the fowl by the, 502. Rome, parts of the peacock a favourite dish in, 561. Roup, 546. Ruff, the, 580. * Ruminantia, the species of, subjected to man, 493. Rump gland, inflammation of the, 54G ; treatment of, 546. Russian fowl, characteristics of the, 515; sometimes gold or silver spangled, 515. Russell, Dr. his observations on the practice of employing carrier-pigeons, 578. Salt, partiality of pigeons for, 581. Sampans, Chinese, method of keeping ducks in, 589. Savannahs, of America, quantity of peafowl in, 565. Selby, Mr., his description of the stock-dove, 573. Serous layer, the, 529. Se.x of the bird to come from each egg, theory that it is indicated by the shap'e of the shell, 527. Sexual marks, the distinctive, of turkey chicks, 558. Shake-bag, origin of the name, 511. Shecarries, their manner of taking the jungle-fowl, 507. Shed, a, should be erected to screen the fowls from the heat of the sun, 522. Shell, composition of the, 528 ; position of the, after the exit of the chick, 532 ; position of the chick in the, 531 ; the time taken by the chick in extricating itself from the, varies, 532. Shootings, used in decoys, 586. Shoveller duck, bill of the, 582. Silky fowl, characters of the, 514. Sketches of Persia, story told in the, concerning the turkey, 548. Snow-falls, travelling of turkeys in, 554. Solomon, domestic poultry kept in the time of, 496. Sonnerat's jungle-fowl, two species confounded under the name of, 506 ; habits and manners of, 507 ; description of the female of, 507 ; the male of, 506 ; colour of the male, 507 ; shape of the feathers of^ the male, resemble those of the curl-crested Arayari, 506. South America, the breeds of Gwans of, 591. Spangled, or Dutch everlasting layer, description of the, 512; Hamburg fowl, the, 511; the golden spangled variety, 511; the silver spangled variety, 512; Polish fowl, the, 511 ; distinction between, and the Hamburg, 511; Spanish fowl, description of the, 512 ; manner of pre- serving the ^ure strain of the, 512; merits of the, 512. Spathna?, bill of the genus, 583. Spring chickens, to be sold to the feeder, 518. Stigma, the, 528. St. Jago fowl, the, derived from the Great Malay, 504. Stock-dove, habits of the, 573. Sulphur, flower of, useful in gapes, 545. Summer-duck, the, of America, 582. Sussex, the Dorking breed of fowl in, 513. Swan, the common (cygnus olor), characteristics of the, 591 ; breeds of the, m Europe and Asia, 591 ; a royal bird, 591 ; the flesh of the, 593 ; food of the, 592 ; habits of the, 592. Sykes, Colonel, specimens of the Great Malay fowl brought to England by, 504 ; his remarks concerning the gallus Sonneratii, 506. Systematic and pulmonic circulation, establishment of a, 530. Tail, the true, of the peacock, 559. Tarshish, where situated, 496. Tongue of the anatids, 582. Trumpeter pigeon, description of the, 580 ; swan (cygnus buccinator), range of the, 591. Tumbler pigeon, description of the, 580. Tumblers, the flight of a flock of, 580. Tunnel-net, the, used in decoys, 586. Turbit pigeon, description of the, 580. Turkey, difficulty of accounting for the English name, 547; the dispersion of the, not so complete as that of the fowl, 548 ; doubts concerning the introduction of the, into England, 548 ; history of the, 546 ; mention of the, at various periods, 548 ; uncertainty respecting the date of its introduction into Europe, 546 ; the common (meleagris gallopavo), 549; season and manner of courtship of, 552 ; female excursions of the, with her young brood, 553 ; site selected by, for a nest, 553 ; often associate together, and form a common nest, 553 ; desert the males as soon as they begin to lay, 553 ; proper accommodation for, 555 ; selection of a male for breeding, 556 ; number of hens to a male, 556 ; manage- ment of, 556 ; management of a sitting hen, 556 ; cruelty of making the hen hatch twice in a season, 557 ; chicks, treatment of the, 557 ; proper food for, 558 ; poults, treatment of, after the first three months, 558. Turkeys, possibility of introducing a wild breed of, into England, 547; exaggerated accounts given of the weight of fattened, 559. Turpentine, usefulness of, in gapes, 603. Turtle-dove (the common), habits of the, 573. Urachus, the, 531. Ure, Dr., his observations on Dutch quills, 601. Vascular tissue, the layer of 529. Ventriculus succenturiatus, of the order Rasores, description of 499. Vesicle of Purkinje, the, 528. Vesicula aeris, 528. Virgil, his description of the habits of the rock-dove, 572. Vitellius, the Emperor, a favourite dish of, 561. Warmth, manner of gaining for a hen-house, 520. Water, bad effects of young ducks visiting, too early, 588. Weld, Mr., his account of the egg-trade in Ireland, 517. Whistling swan, see Wild swan. White, Gilbert, his observations on the derivation of the house -dove, 574 ; on green vegetables as food for grami- nivorous birds, 573 ; on the peacock's tail, 560. White-fronted goose, the (anser erythropus), 596. White Poland fowl, the, extinct, 511. Wild duck more scarce in England than formerly, 585 ; former abundance of the, in England, 585 ; habits of the, 587 ; spots chosen for nests by the, 587 ; artifice practised by, to conceal her nest, 588 ; the scarcity of, in Egypt, INDEX TO POULTRV. Syria, and Persia, 590 ; wholesale destruction of the, 585; wide distribution of the, 585. Wild peacock, enemies of the, 561. Wild swan, see Hooper swan ; the North American (cygnus Aniericanus), range of, 591. Wild lurkey, the common, 550; habits of, 552; native country of, 551 ; weight of, 551 ; frequent crosses between, and the dome^tic turkey, 551 ; description of, by the Prince of Canino, 553; domesticated younu; reared from the eggs of, retain some of their usual propi-nsities, 551 ; enemies of the, 554. Wjllughby, Mr., on the care of a capon for a brood of chickens, 535. Wilson, his account of the various decoys used for catching wild ducks, 586; anecdote of the Canada goose, related by, 595. Wiltshire, geese formerly on the commons of, 599. Windsor, description of the aviary for fowls at the Royal Home Farm at, 523. Windsor Forest formerly tenanted by wild turkeys, 547. Winter-laying, Mr. Mouat's experiments concerning, 520. Working birds, what, 587. Yarrell's currassow, 570. Yarrell, Mr., his observations on the sub-family anatinse, 583. Yolk, the, intended for the nourishment of the chick, for the first twenty-four hours, 530, 534. Young, Mr., on the construction of an artificial mother, 526. Zoological Society, prize oifered by the, to the btst breeder of curassows, 566. INDEX TO BEES. Apis, the honey-bee one of the species, 605. Aspect, the proper, for a bee-hive, 619. Artificial swarm, mode of making an, with the help of fumi- gation, 622, 623. Architect, the bee, office of, 606. Barricades, the, erected by bees, 616. Bee bread, Reamnur's opinion concerning, 611 ; books, great number of, 605 ; dress, the proper manufacture of a, 625 ; enthusiasts of ancient times, 605 ; students of ancient times, 605; of modern times, 605. Bee-hive, proper situation for, 619. Bee-keeping, profits of, 618; proper commencement of operations for, 620. Bees, ancient theory of the propagation of, 609 ; should be disturbed as little as possible, 619 ; the best mode of feeding, 620; uselessness and cruelty of the plan of annually destroying bees, 623. Bevan, Dr., anecdote related by, proving that bees possess memory and language, 616; concerning the reasoning power of bees, 607 ; cases given by, concerning bee scouts, 612. Borage, partiality of bees for, 618. Broom, partiality of bees for, 618. Buck-wheat, partiality of bees for, 618. Carew, Mr., method of stocking his hives practised by, 609. Cells, formation of the, 606 ; general construction of the, 607. Children should beprevented from interfering with bees, 619. Clover, partiality of bees for, 618. Cocoon, formation of a, by the larva, 611. Cold, bees' method of protecting themselves from, 621. Combs, appearance piesented by the, when completed, 607. Corsair bee, attacks of the, on the humble bee, 616. Criminals, thee.Kecution of, by bees, 617. Curtain of bees, the construction of a, 610. Danger from bees, the best mode of avoiding, 623. Death's head moth (Sphinx atropos) ravages of the, on bee- hives, 616. Decoy hive, should be ready for a swarm, 622. Double or treble hives, advantages of, 620. Drones, cells of the, 610 ; massacre of the, 613. Eggs, the deposition of, by the queen bee, 610. Eke, an, the use of, 620. Flowers, list of bee, 618. French buck wheat, partiality of bees for, 618. Fumigation, the best material for, 621; Mr. Cotton's mode of applying, 621. Glass window in the hive, use of a, 619. Grant, Mr., his account of the proceedings of bees on finding a hive strewed with dead bees, 612 ; of the relays of labourers from the hive, 616 ; his experiments on the ventilation of a bee-hive, 619. Habits, natural, of the bee, 605. Heath, partiality of bees for, 618. Hive, the best, 620; the, when the bees are asleep, 616; materials for the, 618 ; Mr. Grant's description of, 620. Hives, the preference of bees for, 612; old, advantages involved in the practice of depriving, of their queens, 623. Honey, the best mode of obtaining, 621 ; the prices of, in London, 618 ; the quantity of, obtained from a hive, 618; bearers, office of the, 608 ; bee, the natural history of the, full of interest, 605 ; comb, commencement of the, 606 ; moth, the, 617 ; deposition of the eggs of the, in the combs of a hive, 617. Huber, M., his experiments, proving that bees have a lan- guage, 6\i. Hymenoptera, the honey-bee of the order, 605. Imago, the young, introduction of, into the external world, 611. Instinct, bees should bo left as far as poss ible to their own, 617. Intruders, the treatment of, by bees, 609. Keys, Mr., his account of the behaviour of a hive of bees, on a mishap to a royal pupa, 615. Language, clearly bees have a, 61-1. Larva, growth of the, 611 ; proceedings of the, within its cell, 611. Lycoperdon, the use of, 621. Melilotus leucantha, may be usefully grown for the especial gratification of bees, 618. Mishaps, bees subject to, in the process of development from the egg, 615. Nadir-hiving, advantages of, 621. Nurse-bees, office of the, 611, 612. ' Obstacles, instances of the ingenious manner in which bees overcome, 607. Officers, or magistrates, the bee, 617. Paley, Dr., his observation on the sting of the bee, 614. Pettigrew, Mr., his statement concerning the metamorphose of bees, 615. Poets, the great attention of, to bees, 605. Police, tlie bee, anecdote of, 617. Pollen, the collection of, for the young bees, 608 ; bearers, office of the, 609. Pretender, treatment of a, by bees, 615. Proboscis, mechanism of the, 60S; office of the, 608. Propolis, what, 609 ; the various uses of, 609. Pupa or nymph, change of the larva into a, 611. Queen bee, the, 610; manner of conducting the contest between two young queen bees, 613 ; attachment of, to the working bees, 615 ; departure of the old from the hive, with a swarm of bees, 611 ; fecundity of, 610; the magical word^ uttered by, 613 ; young, behaviour of the eldest on learning that she has rivals in tlie hive, 613; INDEX TO BEES. departure of, from the hive with the second colony, 613 ; stranger, the reception of a, some eighteen hours after the loss of the old one, 615 ; four-and-twenty hours after the loss of the old one, 615. Reason, innumerable instances of, in every department of bee economy, 607. Royal cells, the erection of the, 610; pupa, the true birth of the eldest, 612. Scaffolding, the, formed by bees, 606. Sculpturers, the bee, oflBce of, 606. Scouts, the bee, 612. Sentinels, the bee, 616. Shakspere, his picture of the bee kingdom, 605. Side-box, advantage of attaching a, to a hive, 622 ; mode of preventing the queen bee from laying eggs in the, 622. Sting, action of the, 614; mechanism of the, 614. Stock of bees, method of doubling yearly, 618 ; mode of obtaining an increase of, without the inconvenience of natural swarming, 622. Straw hive, the, advantages of, 618. Super hiving, advantages of, 621. Swarm of bees, proceedings of a, on entering a new and unfurnished tenement, 605 ; the proper for a beginner to purchase, 620 ; mode of effecting the junction of a weak to a strong, 623. Swarming, signs of the period of, 622; the inconvenient accessories of, 622. Swarms, departure of, from the hive, 612, 613. Sydserff, M., his estimate of the profits of bee keeping, 618. Thorley, Mr., his description of a scene of great danger with bees, 624. Tongue of the bee, nature of the, 608 ; the, when at rest, 608 ; when at work, 608. Ventilation, the, of the hive should not be interfered with, 619 ; the process of, by bees, 617. Walls of the cells, straightening of the, 606. Warder, Dr., his test of bee loyalty, 614. Wax- workers, office of the, 606. Wild thyme, partiality of bees for, 618. Winter management of bees, 620. Worker-bee, metamorphose of the egg of, into a queen bee, 615. Workers in the hive, manner of feeding of the, 60S. Zinc should never be used in bee-hives, 619.