ih i ; Ae ve At WALT hy ol | | . . any Py) By a AY LAG WS i DANNY) nh mae NS Ay ein ; a it ¥ ie vi eae . : YLV INSECTS INSTINCT DISPLAYED. FIFTH EDITION, CORRECTED AND ENLARGED BY THE AUTHOR OF “ SPAIN YESTERDAY AND TO-DAY,” “THE NEW ESTATE.” &c. &e, LONDON: PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY, Dorset Street, Fleet Street. ’ + ian HER LAMB. _— . 4 - 1 INSTINCT DISPLAYED, IN A COLLECTION OF WELL-AUTHENTICATED FACTS, EXEMPLIFYING THE EXTRAORDINARY SAGACITY OF VARIOUS SPECIES OF THE ANIMAL CREATION. BY PRISCILLA WAKEFIELD. yy = \p FT yi" HA Mn ~ ae NN LONDON: DARTON AND HARVEY, GRACECHURCH STREET. 1836, i, oe Py bs. na a 33 bal egg 4 a Ne Pl AC EE. THE distinctions between Reason and Instinct are difficult to ascertain: to define their exact limits has exercised the ingenuity of the most profound philosophers, hitherto, without. success. Nor can the learned agree as to the nature of that wonderful quality, that guides every creature to take the best means of procuring its own enjoy- ment, and of preserving its species by the most admirable care of its progeny. Some degrade this hidden impulse to a mere mechanical opera- tion ; whilst others exalt it to a level with reason, that proud prerogative of man. There are, in- deed, innumerable gradations of intelligence, as of the other qualities with which the animal king- dom is endowed; in like manner as the different orders of beings approach each other so closely, and are so curiously united by links, partaking of the nature of those above and those below, that v1 PREFACE. it requires a discerning eye to know what rank to assign them. Thus, quadrupeds and birds are assimilated to each other by the bat; the inhabit- ants of the waters to those of the land by am- phibious animals ; animals to vegetables, by the leaf-insect, and by plants that appear to have sensation; and animate to inanimate, by the oyster, the molluscee, and sea anemones. Reason and Instinct have obvious differences ; yet the most intelligent animals, in some of their actions, approach so near to reason, that it is really surprising how small the distinction is. The ‘great and most striking superiority of reason seems to consist in these two points: the capacity of knowing and acknowledging our Creator, and of rendering its owner responsible for his conduct. Without investigating further the metaphysical distinctions of Reason and Instinct, to which I am quite incompetent, I will proceed to make some apology for the following work. The harmonious beauty of creation, and the interesting objects presents, have been my de- light from childhood; and the enjoyments, as well as the advantages, I have received from this PREFACE. Vil taste, have made me desirous of communicating it to others, by relating a few well-authenticated facts of the exact coincidence of the instinctive powers with the necessities of the animal. My friends, aware of my intention, increased the stock of my materials by several curious commu- nications, which I thought more likely to arrest the attention of the young, when combined in the form of letters, than a long string of detached anecdotes, following each other like horses in a team. My motive has been to excite attention to the propensities of animals, as a powerful antidote to _ treating them with cruelty or neglect, so often practised by the ignorant and thoughtless from inconsideration. Who can observe, without ad- miring them? Who can admire, without ador- ing that Power that has so eminently displayed his wisdom and goodness, in the endowments of every inhabitant of this globe, from man to the most minute insect that our microscopes discover ; —each created for a certain portion of enjoyment, adapted to its nature; with organs and disposi- tions so exactly fitted to procure this peculiar Vill PREFACE. enjoyment, that none can doubt its being the work of an all powerful, infinitely wise, and bene- volent Being. Conscious of inability to do justice to so noble a subject, I trust that my good intention will be received with the same indulgence as has been so often manifested on former occasions ; and if by this small collection of instances of animal sagaci- ty, I have added a book of entertainment to the common stock, that neither corrupts the mind, nor vitiates the taste of the rising generation, my endeavours will be well rewarded. CONTENTS. LETTER I. FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. Page Employment in London.—Early Friendship... : 1 LETTER II. FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. Journey into the Country.— Reception by her Aunt and Cousin. —The Country. —Change of Pursuits. — The Poultry- yard.— Daily Reading of the Scriptures. — The Garden.—Em- ployment of Time. . . . : : ° : 4 LETTER III. FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. Advantage of Employment.—The Children’s School.—Study of Natural History. . ; : . - : . 11 LETTER) IV. FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. Character of Mr. Palmer.—Animal Instinct.—Definition of Instinct.—Uniformity of Instinct.—Reason peculiar to Man.— Reason Progressive.—Operations of Reason and Instinct.—In- stinct in choice of food.—Instinct of Insects.—Instinct adapt x CONTENTS. itself to change of circumstances.—Ingenuity of a Dormouse.— Anecdote of an Ass.—Punishment of Criminals. . Page 14 LETTER V. FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. Ants.—Termites, or White Ants.—Termites.—Their Habits. —Habits and Uses of Termites. — Termes Bellicosus—its Nest. —Changes of Termes.—Commencement of Nest.—A partments of the Nest.— Roof of Nest water-proof. — Internal arrange- ment.—-King and Queen.—Ants avoid the open air. —Opening an Ant-hill.— Termites on a march.—Varieties in mode of building. . , . . on Ne : ‘ ainree LETTER VI. FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. Caroline’s studies commended. — Anecdote of two Magpies. —Food and Habitsof Magpies. . ° : idee LETTER VII. FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. An Evening’s Walk.—The Sheep and her Lamb.—Affection of Sheep.—Courage of Sheep.—Sheep attached to localities. — Gordius Marinus.—Its Agility.—Reflections.—-History of Ra- chel’s Linnets.—Cruelty of confining Birds. ‘ r 51 LETTER VIII. FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. Anecdote of a Sparrow.—Sagacity of a Sparrow.—Question to Naturalists.—Defensive Precautions of various Animals.—Echi- nus, or Sea-hedgehog.—Animals in Falkland Islands.—Patience compels praise. gt 9 . ; : ws 9 ot LG} é CONTENTS. x1 LETTER IX. FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. Anecdote of two Goats.—Ingenuity of Goats.—Harmony of Instincts and Habits.—Tractability of Goats.—Their Flesh.— A Wedding.—Visits to Poor Neighbours.—Virtue excites Emu- lation. AIR TE: ° ° ° : ° . Page 69 LETTER X. FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. Bats.—Structure of the Bat.—Its Habits.—Sensibility of the Bat’s Wing.—Torpidity of the Bat Analogous cases of vitality suspended in Winter.—Wisdom of the Creator. . , 77 LETTER XI. Shepherd’s Dog.—Feat of a Sheep-dog.—Anecdote of Mr. Hoge’s Dog.—Great utility of Sheep-dogs.—Sagacity of Dogs. Canine Fidelity—Discrimination of Dogs. — Anecdote of a Terrier.—Friendly apology. . : - ° . 85 LETTER XII. FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. Ingenuity of two Goats. — Fidelity of a Spaniel. — His death from grief.— A Man saved by a Dog’s sagacity. — Newfound- land Dog.— Uses of Natural History. . . . - 9 LETTER XIII. FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. Eulogium on Letters. — Submission to the Divine Will.— Pleasures of an active Life.—Exploits of a Roman Dog.—Cha- racter of the Cat.—Anecdote of a Cat.—Cats attached to houses. — Encrinites.— Works of Nature unheeded.—God’s Works full of Wisdom. A ‘ . : ‘ - 7 ; 102 Xl CONTENTS. LETTER XIV. FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. Country and Town contrasted.—Frivolity and Inhumanity.— Learned Women and Sciolists.—Story of a Monkey.—Malice of the Monkey.—A natural illumination.—Combat of a Tiger and Buffalo. . : ° : : . . - Page 112 LETTER XV. FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. Trascibility of the Camel.—Management of the Dromedary. —Peculiarities of the Camel. — Properties of the Rein-deer.— Structure of the Viper.—Fascination of Serpents——A Mouse and Viper.—Anecdotes of Mr. Palmer.—A Christian Pastor.— A happy Family. . ‘ . : : ° 4 120 LETTER XVI. FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. Velocity of particular Animals.—Comparative swiftness of Quadrupeds and Birds.—Carrier Pigeons and Rooks. . 130 LETTER XVII. FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. Birds of Passage. — Birds which visit Britain. — Migratory Water-fowl.—Britain deserted by some Birds.—Peculiarities in Animal Migration.—Migration of Fish.—Mligration of Rats.— Great Norway Rats.—Visit to Sea-coast Proposed. . 136 LETTER XVIII. FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. A united Family.—Form and Habits of the Puffin. — Puffins inimical to Rabits;—Land-crabs of the Bahamas.—Their Jour- CONTENTS. Xi ney to cast their Spawn.—Renovation of Shell in Land-crabs.— Sagacity of a House-dog.—Evil of bad Companions.—Well- time Lenity. . A : :

TAILS OF SAPAJOUS AND SAGOINS. 237 branches of trees ; or use it as a hand, to take hold of any thing it wants. The tail of the sagoin seems adapted to different purposes ; being longer than those of the sapajous, straight, flaccid, and entirely covered with hair. 238 A DOG EMPLOYED LETTER XXVIII. FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. MY DEAREST EMILY, You who take so great an interest in every thing that relates to sporting should have been with us yesterday. We went to visit a salmon fishery, but a water-dog entertained us more than the capture of the fish. As soon as he perceived the men were preparing to cast the net, he instantly ran down the river of his own accord, and took his post in the middle of it on some shallows, where he could run or swim as occasion required; and in this position he placed himself with all the eagerness and attention so strongly marked in a pointer-dog who sefs his game. Forsome time, I was at a loss to comprehend his design, but the event soon satisfied me, and com- pletely justified the prudence of the animal; for the fish, when they feel the net, always endeavour to make directly out to sea. Accordingly, one of the salmon escaping from the net, rushed down the stream with great velocity towards the ford, where the dog stood to receive him at an advantage. A very divert- ing chase now commenced, in which, from the shallow- IN SALMON FISHING. 239 ness of the water, we could discern the whole track of the fish, with all its rapid turnings and windings. After a smart pursuit, the dog found himself left con- siderably behind, in consequence of the water deepen- ing, by which he had been reduced to the necessity of swimming ; but, instead of following this desperate game any longer, he readily gave it over, and ran with all his speed directly down the river, till he was sure of being again to seaward of the salmon, where he took post as before, in his pointer’s attitude. Here the fish met him a second time, and a fresh pursuit ensued, in which, after various attempts, the salmon at last made its way out to the sea, notwithstanding all the ingenious and vigorous exertions of its pursuer. Though, on this occasion, the dog was unsuccessful, the fisherman assured us that it was no unusual thing for him to run down his game, and that honest Shag was of very great service to them, by turning the salmon towards the net.* We did not order our horses till the cool of the evening; and having sufficient time before us, we suffered them to jog on at their own pace, that we might enjoy an extensive view of the ocean, rendered peculiarly majestic by the luminous appearance of its * These circumstances are borrowed from Hamilton’s Letters concerning the Coast of Antrim, and happened on the river Rush. 240 PHOSPHORESCENCE OF THE OCEAN. waves. It seemed absolutely on fire: if you have never seen this beautiful phenomenon, I will give you a lively description of it, in the words of Crabbe: «* See, as they float along, th’ entangled weeds Slowly approach, upborne on bladdery beads : Wait till they land, and you shall then behold The fiery sparks those tangled fronds infold, Myriads of living points ; the unaided eye Can but the fire, and not the form, descry. And now your view upon the ocean turn, And there the splendour of the waves discern. Cast but a stone, or strike them with an oar, And you shall flames within the deep explore ; Or scoop the stream phosphoric as you stand, And the cold flame shall flash along your hand ; When, lost in wonder, you shall walk and gaze On weeds that sparkle, and on waves that blaze.” Some assert that these brilliant flashes of phospho- ric light, that sometimes fringe every wave that rolls towards the shore, are produced by vast quantities of putrid matter, formed by the remains of dead fish ; others, with more probability, as I think, attribute this splendid appearance to luminous insects. Leaving the solution of this interesting question to philosophers, I shall close my letter with an instance of gratitude and attachment in an elephant, that Mr. Palmer has read, but he cannot recollect the authority on which it rests, with the hope that it will excite Mr. Hervey to supply us with some more anecdotes of that intelli- GRATITUDE OF AN ELEPHANT. 241 gent animal. A troop of elephants were accustomed to pass a green-stall in their way to water. The woman who kept the stall took a fancy to one of these beasts, and frequently regaled her favourite with refuse greens and fruit, which attached him to her. It happened one day that they overturned her stall, and, in her haste to preserve her goods, she forgot her little son, who, by this neglect, was exposed to danger. The elephant perceived the child’s situation, took it up with his proboscis, and carefully placed it in safety on a shed near at hand. How superior in gratitude was this elephant to many of the humanrace! Of all the defects of dispo- sition, ingratitude seems the most hateful and de- praved: it argues a heart insensible to the best pro- pensities of our nature. That neither of us may ever feel its sting, is the sincere wish of your CAROLINE. 242 OLFACTORY SENSE IN ANIMALS. LETTER XXIX. FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. MY DEAR CAROLINE, Mr. Hervey accepts your challenge, as he thinks that the opportunities he has had of observing animals wholly out of our reach will enable him to furnish you frequently with both amusement and information. In his opinion,* the sense of smell, in some ani- mals, seems to be connected with certain mental sym- pathies ; as those of hearing and sight are, in all that possess them in any high degree. It has been ob- served that dogs, though entirely unacquainted with lions, will tremble and shudder at their roar; and an elephant that has never seen a tiger will, in the same manner, show the strongest ‘symptoms of horror and affright at the smell of it. The late Lord Clive exhibited a combat between two of these ani- mals at Calcutta; but the scent of the tiger had such * These sentiments, and this relation, are extracted from Mr. Knight’s elegant Analysis of Taste. ACUTENESS OF CANINE SCENT. 9435 an effect upon the elephant, that nothing could either force or allure him to go along the road where the cage in which it was enclosed had passed, till a gal- lon of arrack was given him, when, his horror sud- denly turning into fury, he broke down the paling to get at his enemy, and killed him without difficulty. The excessive eagerness which dogs express in smelling their game seems to Mr. Hervey to be but little connected with the appetite for food, and wholly independent of any preconceived ideas of the objects of their pursuit being fit for it: hence, several kinds of them will not eat the game which they pur- sue with such wild impetuosity, and of which the scent appears to animate them to ecstasy, far, he thinks, beyond what the mere desire of food could excite. But I cannot help doubting whether domes- tication has not perverted that sense, originally given them as a means of directing them to their natural prey, to a different purpose. As a confirmation of his theory, he adds, that where blood has been shed, par- ticularly that of their own species, oxen will assemble, and, upon smelling it, roar and bellow, and show the most manifest symptoms of horror and distress. Yet these symptoms could not arise from any associated ideas of danger or death, since they appear in them that never had any opportunities of acquiring such ideas. They must, therefore, be instinctive, like many 24.4 REFLECTIONS ON ANIMAL ENDOWMENTS. other antipathies and propensities, implanted by the hand of Providence as natural guards against danger, or impulses to find nourishment, by these sensations operating upon the passions and mental affections more immediately than it is found to do in the hu- man species, which, enjoying the privilege of reason, stands less in need of such a monitor. Can any thing be more beautiful than such a system !—a provision for every thing necessary, but nothing redundant. The further I examine the capacities and propensities of animals, the more I admire the harmony of their endowments ; including their dispositions and out- ward form, with the necessities peculiar to each. Their mouths, their eyes, their instruments of offence and defence—their forces, habits, and inclinations, are so nicely adapted to the food upon which they are to subsist, the enemies they are to attack or resist, the climate or situation they are to inhabit, that we may clearly see that this curious provision is not contrived for mere existence, but fora high degree of enjoyment. Happiness, in various gradations, seems a universal gift, bestowed by the Creator on all his creatures: man is the only one who, by a misapplication of his talents, perverts the benevolent design, and conyerts happiness into misery. But to return from these reflections to Mr. Hervey. He relates a very surprising instance of the power of DOMESTICATED TIGERS. GAS. man to subdue the most ferocious and bloodthirsty of all animals, the tiger. He says, that some of the Foukeers, or mendicant priests, in many parts of Bengal, keep tigers in a state of domestication. He saw one near Colgony, that appeared under subjec- tion to the Foukeer. This priest lived in a small hut, in the midst of a wilderness infested with tigers. The hut stood on a hill, overlooking the flat country on the opposite side of the Ganges. The Foukeer used to walk almost daily to the town, accompanied by the tiger, which seemed to create no alarm amongst the inhabitants, who had perfect confidence in the command the priest had over him.* But Mr. Hervey could not discover by what means this influence was obtained, as it was clearly the interest of the crafty priest to keep his art a secret, that he might retain the veneration of the people, who, doubtless, attri- buted his power over savage beasts to his sanctity. It could not proceed from attachment to one person, so beautifully displayed in many species of animals, particularly the elephant and the dog; because none but these priests are ever able to tame the fierceness of the tiger, or convert its cruel temper into any thing like friendship, though taken ever so young. It is, therefore, a sort of phenomenon for which EKuropeans cannot account. The tiger isa beautiful creature ; but, * Williamson’s Oriental Field Sports. 246 TIGER AND ELEPHANT COMPARED. like the wasp, whose colours are similar, it bears the marks of malignity in its outward appearance, which serve to deter the spectator from any further ac- quaintance than a very distant view. Whilst we admire, we dread; and never desire to admit him as an inmate, but in the character of a slave, or a cap- tive confined in a dungeon. How different is the powerful, half-reasoning elephant !—he is so useful, intelligent, and amiable, that he is treated with the kindness due to a valuable friend, which he returns with a fidelity and gratitude worthy of man himself. Take the following story as an instance of these qua- lities. An elephant, which had been kept tame for some years, got loose during a stormy night, and rambled into his native jungles. Four years had nearly elaps- ed, when a large drove of these animals were trapped into an enclosure called a keddah. It happened that the keeper of the stray elephant was one amongst many that ascended the barricade of timber by which the keddah was surrounded, to inspect the prize they had taken. This man fancied he saw one amongst the new-caught elephants, that bore such a resem- blance to his former charge, that he could not help suspecting that he had found his long-lost favourite. His comrades laughed at the idea, but no ridicule could deter him from calling it by the name of his SYMPATHY BETWEEN ELEPHANTS. 247 old acquaintance ; when, to the surprise of all pre- sent, the faithful creature acknowledged her former master, obeyed his call, and came towards him; which so overjoyed the man, that, forgetful of dan- ger, he got over the barrier, and the elephant, as if feeling a reciprocal pleasure, lay down for his mas- ter to mount. The mohout joyfully bestrode his neck, and, with an insulting air, rode him to his pickets.* Mr. Hervey having occasion to purchase an ele- phant, was offered a most majestic one, in point of size, at a very low price; but he declined the bar- gain, on account of a wound the creature had received in the trunk, from the cruel rashness of its keeper, by which it was greatly disfigured, and entirely disabled from the functions that member usually performs. It hung down, as if incapable of motion, and had lost the power of suction, or of grasping; consequently, the poor elephant was deprived of the power of pro- curing his own subsistence, and was wholly depend- ent on the attention of others. In this pitiable situa- tion, one of its own species, a male elephant, sym- pathised in its distress, compassionated its sufferings, and constantly prepared for it bunches of grass, fresh leaves, &c. and put them into its mouth.t Can any thing be more amiable than this conduct, * Williamson’s Oriental Field Sports. t Ibid. 248 DECOY ELEPHANTS. or more similar to an act of reason? for the mere in- stincts of elephants could not teach them to discern the consequences of their companion’s misfortune. Rats are said to show a degree of pity and sagacity nearly equal, in case of one of their community be- coming blind: they have been seen to lead the blind rat to drink, by placing a straw in its mouth, and a rat at each end of it guiding their companion to the water. The sagacity of elephants, it seems, is sometimes employed to seduce, as well as to assist those of their own kind. The females, when properly disciplined, are frequently employed by the mohouts, or keepers, to entrap the wild males ; a task that they perform with the address, dexterity, and allurements of a Dalilah. After having completely attracted their admirer, who, like Samson, seems a willing slave, the sly deceiver contrives to amuse and divert the atten- tion of her crnamorato, whilst the mohout cautiously creeps, at the risk of his life, between them, and se- cures his prize, by confining his legs with strong fet- ters to a tree. Nothing can exceed the rage and re- sentment of the males when they discover the strata- gem: their love is turned ito the bitterest hatred. They sometimes break loose, and destroy both the mohout and his assistant, whom they seem to perceive was conscious of the delusion. They pursue her with RAGE OF ENTRAPPED ELEPHANT. 249 ~~ fury, and beat her to death with their trunks. If she can outstrip her pursuer, she returns to her owner, and is ready for another adventure, whenever he chooses to employ her.* I am, with renewed assurances of sincere attach- ment, your EmMILy. * Williamson’s Oriental Field Sports. 250 CHARACTER OF MRS. SAVILLE. LETTER XXX. FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. MY DEAR EMILY, Few are better qualified to define what hap- piness is, than Mrs. Saville ; because she enjoys as large a share of it as can fall to the lot of a mortal. The retrospect of her past life, and the animating hope of that which is to come, shed a constant cheer- fulness over her mind, that diffuses itself in benevo- lence towards others, and is visible in all her actions. The dutiful affection of her daughter, the attachment of her friends, the fidelity of her servant, the love of her neighbours, are the possessions on which she sets the highest value, and secures to herself by her own conduct. A woman with such a taste has no occa- sion for wealth, because she is satisfied with those reasonable gratifications, which, though valuable, are not costly. Do not suppose that she is of a gloomy, reserved disposition: she is fond of society, and, by the vivacity and interest of her remarks, forms the chief ornament of that which she frequents. One of her pure pleasures is the assembling of a select circle ANECDOTE OF THE IRISH REBELLION. 251 of friends, amongst whom she never appears to take the lead, though, by the subjects she introduces, and her address in drawing forth the talents of others, she mostly contrives to give a useful turn to the conversa- tion, and direct it to that which is at once agreeable and valuable. You can scarcely imagine the cheer- fulness and harmony that prevail in these little par- ties ; but last night our spirits were greatly damped by a gentleman who was in Ireland during the rebel- . lion, the horrors of which, so disgraceful to both sides, he detailed with a minuteness that brought many shocking scenes before us. Amongst other anecdotes, he told a story so extraordinary, that Mr. Palmer, who is a most rigid exacter of the truth in relating a narra- tion, required his authority. Upon this, he referred to his pocket-book, and found that he had taken it from page 168 of Gordon’s History of the Rebellion. I give it you as he read it from his notes. “‘ The recovery of Charles Davis of Enniscorthy, a glazier, was remarkable. After having remained four days concealed in the sink of a privy, during which time he had no other sustenance than the raw body of a cock, which had, by accident, alighted on the seat, he fled from this loathsome abode; but was taken at some distance from the town, brought to Vinegar Hill, shot through the body and one of his arms, violently struck in several parts of the head with nae FIDELITY OF A DOG. thrusts of a pike, which, however, penetrated not into the brain, and thrown into a grave on his back, with a heap of earth and stones over him. His faithful dog having scraped away the covering from his face, and cleansed it by licking the blood, he returned to life, after an interment of twelve hours, dreaming that pikemen were going to stab him, and pronouncing the name of Father Roche, by whose interference he hoped to be released. Some superstitious persons hearing the name, and imagining the man to have been revivi- fied by the favour of Heaven, in order that he might receive salvation from the priest, by becoming a Ca- tholic before his final departure, took him from the grave to a house, and treated him with such kind at- tention that he recovered, and is now living in appa- rently perfect health.” “The man’s restoration, after such treatment, would be absolutely beyond belief,” said Mr. Palmer, “ were it not attested by an author of credit, who lives within a few miles of him, and seems to speak from personal knowledge. The circumstance of the dog is the least surprising part of the story, as there have been well-authenticated instances of similar fidelity.” A subject once set agoing, acts like the electric spark, and excites general sympathy. Thus, one story produces another. We were now entertain- ed with the following affecting narrative. “In 1789, REMARKABLE FAST OF A DOG. 2538 when preparations were making at St. Paul’s for the reception of his Majesty, a favourite bitch followed its master up the dark stairs of the dome. Here, all at once, it was missing, and calling and whistling were to no purpose. Nine weeks after this, all but two days, some glaziers were at work in the cathedral, and heard, amongst the timbers which support the dome, a faint noise. Thinking it might be some un- fortunate human being, they tied a rope round a boy, and let him down near the place whence the sound came. At the bottom he found a dog lying on its side, the skeleton of another dog, and an old shoe half eaten. The humanity of the boy led him to rescue the animal from its miserable situation ; and it was accordingly drawn up, much emaciated, and scarcely able to stand. The workmen placed it in the porch of the church to die or live, as it might happen. This was about ten o’clock in the morning. Some time after, the dog was seen endeavouring to cross the street at the top of Ludgate Hill; but its weakness was so great, that, unsupported by a wall, it could not ac- complish it. The miserable appearance of the dog again excited the compassion of a boy, who carried it over. By the aid of the houses it was enabled to get to Fleet Market, and over two or three narrow cross- ings, in its way to Holborn Bridge; and about eight o'clock in the evening it reached its master’s house in 254 DOG'S ATTACHMENT TO HIS MASTER. Red Lion Street, Holborn, and laid itself down on the steps, having been ten hours on its journey from St. Paul’s tothat place. The dog was so much alter- ed, the eyes being so sunk in the head as to be scarce- ly discernible, that the master would not at first en- courage his old faithful companion, who, when lost, was supposed to weigh 20lbs. and now only weighed 3lbs. 140z. The first indication it gave of knowing its master, was by wagging the tail when he mention- ed the name of Phillis. For a long time it was unable to eat or drink, and it was kept alive by the suste- nance it received from its mistress, who used to feed it with a tea-spoon, and by her care recovered it.”* The length of time this poor creature must have subsisted without food is surprising; and the efforts it made in such an emaciated condition to reach its master’s house, that it might die at his feet, is a striking instance of that unshaken attachment that the canine race show for their protectors. The friendship of a dog for his master is seldom equalled by that of one man for another. How many friends shrink from their professions in the hour of danger, poverty, and disgrace !—hbut when his services are the most wanted, the faithful dog never flinches from his duty, and nu- merous are the examples of their sacrificing their own lives in the defence of those to whom they are attached. * Daniel’s Rural Sports, vol. i. p. 28. LONG JOURNEY OF A DOG. 255 Mr. Clarke, who has published his travels through Russia and the Crimea, had a most affectionate little pug-dog, that accompanied him through his long jour- ney, enduring all the vicissitudes of heat, cold, and fa- tigue, with the most perfect good-humour. “ Though naturally afraid of the water,” says he, “ and always averse from entering it, he crossed all the rivers and lakes of Lapland, Sweden, and Norway, after his masters, and accompanied them three years in differ- ent climates, yet detesting bodily exercise: and ulti- mately performed a journey on foot, keeping up with horses, from Athens, through all Greece, Macedonia, and Thrace ; making the tour of the Archipelago, to Constantinople; and thence, in the same manner, through Bulgaria and Wallachia, to Bucharest !” How I should have valued an animal that had follow- ed me so far with such unwearied fidelity! and though he could not articulate his feelings, I should be at no loss to understand his mute eloquence, and would repay it with every mark of favour a dog could enjoy. He should attend me in my walks, partake of my meals, and repose before my fire. Rest and plenty should be his portion for the remainder of his days. As I was running over some new books, lately sent from London to a gentleman in our neighbourhood, I met with the following passage, which records the 256 METRICAL SUMMARY OF CANINE SERVICES. services of the dog so appropriately, that I shall in- sert it. “* The faithful dog, the natural friend of man, The unequal federation first began ; ° Aided the hunter in his savage toil, And grateful took the refuse of the spoil ; Watch’d round his bed at sleep’s unguarded hour, And drove the hungry tiger from his bow’r ; In deeds of death and danger led the way, And bled, unconquer’d, in the doubtful fray ; Still fought, though wounded, by his master’s side, And, pleas’d to save him, grasp’d his prey, and died. As more the bounds of social rights expand, And peaceful herds submit to man’s command, Still, as a faithful minister, he shares The shepherd’s labours, and divides his cares ; Prowls round the hill or to the allotted plains, The climbing goat or wandering sheep restrains ; With nice discriminating nose inhales The passing odours in the tainted gales ; The wolf’s approach o'er distant mountains hears, And clamorous barks, and points his list’ning ears, And nearer still, as the fell savage howls, Bristles his wavy back, and fierce defiance growls.”’ * Rachel has a most faithful dog, of the Newfound- land breed, that always guards us in our walks ; and so courageous is he, that we fear no enemy when he is with us. I see him now from the window, wagging his tail, and showing other marks of joy, * Knight, on the Progress of Civil Society. RACHEL’S NEWFOUNDLAND DOG. AGW which lead me to suppose that he sees Rachel with her bonnet on, waiting for me to set out; I must therefore conclude, with many assurances that my fidelity and affection to you equal those of any of the four-legged heroes I have been commemorating. CAROLINE. ros) Or co WEDDED HAPPINESS. LETTER XXXI. FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. DEAR CAROLINE, My pen has lain dormant for some time, from my engagements with Mr. and Mrs. Hervey. I have been staying several weeks with them, and am greatly pleased with Charlotte’s behaviour as a wife. She is exceedingly attached, and evidently endeavours to take delight in his pursuits, by assimi- lating her taste to his. Their house is charmingly situated on the banks of a small river, that runs through the grounds; and though it is neither large nor magnificent, it is elegantly neat, and possesses every convenience that can promote order and com- fort. They live in a liberal manner, and keep the best company in their neighbourhood; so that they enjoy a sufficient mixture of society and retirement, to give a zest to each other. When we are alone, we generally enjoy our evenings in strolling about the plantations; and as Mr. Hervey is a naturalist, the most minute object furnishes him with a theme MINNOWS. 959 to entertain us, especially as he has visited so many climates, that he often illustrates his subjects by an account of what he has seen in other countries. In one of our rambles along the edge of the river, I perceived something at the bottom of the water, which had the appearance of a flower. I remarked it to my companions. Observing it attentively, we found that it consisted of a circular assemblage of minnows: their heads all met in a centre, and their tails diverging at equal distances, and being elevated above their heads, gave them the appearance of a flower half blown. One was longer than the rest, and as often as a straggler came in sight, he quit- ted his place to pursue him; and having driven him away, he returned to it again, no other minnow offering to take it in his absence. This we saw him do several times. The object that had attracted them all, was a dead minnow, which they seemed to be devouring.* How strange! that they should feast on the dead body of one of their own species, and that so much order should be observed in the ceremony. Fishes appear to have less intelligence than quadrupeds or birds; at least, their facility of communication with us is so much less, that we cannot so readily perceive the drift of their ac- tions, as those of the creatures which inhabit the * Hayley’s Life of Cowper, Letter 60th. 260 BIRDS NEST IN BLOCK OF A MAST. same element as ourselves. Quadrupeds certainly have the superiority above ether animals, man ex- cepted, in the scale of intelligence ; yet the elegant form, beautiful plumage, and interesting manners of the various species of birds, have made me so partial to them, that I collect with pleasure every anecdote I can obtain of their amiable instincts. Two or three present themselves to my recollection at this moment, which may probably amuse you. The first is extracted from the Buckinghamshire Herald, for Saturday, June Ist, 1793, and is as fol- lows : “Glasgow, May 23. “‘ In a block, or pulley, near the head of the mast of a gabert now lying at the Bromielaw, there is a chaffinch’s nest and four eggs. The nest was built while the vessel lay at Greenock, and was followed hither by both birds. Though the block is oceasion- ally lowered for the inspection of the curious, the birds have not forsaken the nest. The cock, how- ever, visits the nest but seldom, while the hen never leaves it but when she descends to the hulk for food.” What a remarkable instance of maternal love, so deeply implanted by the Great Creator, for the preser- A CHAFFINCH AND HIS MATE. 961 vation of the infant brood! The poet Cowper was so pleased with the circumstance, that he commemorated it in the following stanzas. A TALE. In Scotland’s realm, where trees are few, Nor even shrubs abound ; But where, however bleak the view, Some better things are found. For husband there, and wife, may boast Their union undefil’d ; And false ones are as rare, almost, As hedge-rows in the wild. In Scotland’s realm, forlorn and bare, This hist’ry chanc'd of late— This hist’ry of a wedded pair, A chaffinch and his mate. The spring drew near, each felt a breast With genial instinct fill’d ; They pair’d, and only wish’d a nest, But found not where to build. The heaths uncover’d, and the moors, Except with snow and sleet ! Sea-beaten rocks, and naked shores, Could yield them no retreat. 262 NEST IN CAVITY OF A MAST. Long time a breeding-place they sought, Till both grew vex’d and tir’d ; At length a ship arriving, brought The good so long desir’d. A ship !—Could such a restless thing Afford them place to rest ? Or was the merchant charg’d to bring The homeless birds a nest ? Hush ! silent bearers profit most ! This racer of the sea Proy’d kinder to them than the coast, It serv’d them with a tree. But such a tree! twas shaven deal— The tree they call a mast ; And had a hollow with a wheel, Through which the tackle pass’d. Within that cavity aloft, Their roofless home they fixt ; Form’d with materials neat and soft, Bents, wool, and feathers mixt. Four iv’ry eggs soon pave the floor, With russet speck bedight ; The vessel weighs—forsakes the shore, And lessens to the sight. The mother bird is gone to sea, As she had chang’d her kind ; But goes the mate ?—Far wiser, he Is doubtless left behind. SUPERSTITION OF SEAMEN. ‘No !—Soon as from ashore he saw The winged mansion move ; He flew to reach it, by a law Of never-failing love. Then, perching at his consort’s side, Was briskly borne along ; The billows and the blast defied, And cheer’d her with a song. The seaman, with sincere delight, His feather’d shipmate eyes ; Scarce less exulting in the sight, Than when he tows a prize. For seamen much believe in signs, And from a chance so new, Each some approaching good divines, And may his hopes be true! Hail! honour’d land! a desert, where Not even birds can hide ; Yet parent of this loving pair, Whom nothing could divide. And ye, who rather than resign Your matrimonial plan, Were not afraid to plough the brine, In company with man : To whose lean country, much disdain We English often show ; Yet from a richer, nothing gain, But wantonness and woe. 263 264 FISHING BY PELICAN AND CORMORANT. Be it your fortune, year by year, The same resource to prove ; And may ye, sometimes landing here, Instruct us how to love! The accommodation of these poor birds to necessity is a striking example of deviation from instinct, under particular circumstances. I will now relate a cu- rious instance of pure instinct, in which two birds act in concert, and seem necessary to each other, which Mr. Hervey has observed in very distant parts of the world. When he was in Russia, he obtaimed a curious account of the pelican’s mode of fishing, with the assistance of the cormorant. The pelican extends its wings, and troubles the water, while the cormorant, diving to the bottom, drives the fish to the surface; and the pelican, continu- ing the motion of its wings advances towards the shore, where the fish are taken among the shallows: afterwards, the cormorant, without fur- ther ceremony, helps himself out of the pelican’s beak.* To this surprising intelligence between these two birds he easily gave credit, because he had ob- served something very similar in the West Indies be- tween the sea-pelican and a small sea-gull. As he was sailing near the island of Tortola, he repeat- * Clark’s Travels in Russia, &c. PELICAN’S NEST. 265 edly saw sea-pelicans flying over the waves, and plunging into them, as if they had been shot, to catch small fish; and it generally happened, that before the pelican drew his head out of the water, a small sea-gull perched upon its back, and as soon as the fish appeared in sight, snatched it out of the pelican’s mouth, and flew away with the spoil.* The care of the pelican for the preservation of her eggs is remarkable. They construct their nests of rushes, and line the interior with moss, or any soft herb. These nests are found on the small is- lets of rivers, and places where moss is in plenty. They lay two white eggs, about the size of those of the swan, and employ the same time in hatching. If disturbed while sitting, they hide their eggs in the water, and take them out afterwards with their bill, when they believe the danger removed. They live altogether on fish, and consume a prodigious quantity.t | Dr. Darwin confirms the accounts, already related, of one sea-fowl taking fish from another, by stating, from a traveller named Osbeck, that the man-of-war bird, a species of pelican that is not formed to catch * Sir Henry Martin, Bart. favoured me with this fact, which he saw as above. + Clark’s Travels. 266 PELICANS ON THE NIGER. fish, is supported by robbing others, in the man- ner before described, who are better qualified for the task. Adanson, in his voyage to Senegal, relates, that on the river Niger, in the way to the island Griel, he saw a great number of pelicans, or wide-throats. They moved with great state, like swans, upon the water, and are the largest bird next to the ostrich. The bill of one he killed was upwards of a foot and a half long, and the bag fastened underneath it held twenty-two pints of water. They swim in flocks, and form a large circle, which they contract after- wards, driving the fish before them with their legs. When they have collected a sufficient quantity of fish within this space, they plunge their bill wide open into the water, and shut it again with great quick- ness ; laying up, by this means, a store of fish in their capacious bag, till they have an opportunity of eating it on shore. Here I ought to remark, that this ac- count may not be applicable to every species of peli- can, as there are several kinds, that differ from each other in size and habits. Clavigero relates, in his history of Mexico, that it is a practice amongst the natives to catch a pelican, and, after breaking its wing, to tie it to a tree, where it is amply supplied with fish by other wild pelicans, who humanely feed their wounded companion. By INGENUITY OF CROWS. 267 the time they suppose that his bag is full, these bar- barians return to the place, and unmercifully rob him of his treasure. The spirit of plunder that appears in the cormorant and sea-gull was observed by Doctor Darwin in two crows also, which followed a hawk till he had caught his prey, and then compelled him to share his prize with them. The same author relates a most ingenious arti- fice, used by more than a hundred crows, on the northern coast of Ireland, which marks contrivance rather than mere instinct. These crows were prey- ing upon muscles, a kind of food by no means usual with them: each crow took up a muscle into the air, twenty or forty yards high, and let it fall on the stones with such force, that the shell was broken, and the helpless fish became an easy prey. In the superficial view of nature that falls to the common lot, numberless are the instances of wisdom and goodness that are found in the means with which each creature is furnished for its own support and preservation—I may say, for its gratification ; for there is nothing that has life, so minute or so mean, that is not intended for a degree of happiness adapted to its power of enjoyment. The poet says, “ To enjoy, is to obey.” It seems to be a universal 268 HAPPINESS OF A FUTURE STATE. law, that, as far as respects rational beings, cannot be perfected without interruptions, till we arrive at that state when there shall be no more vice, sickness, or sorrow—when friends shall never part, or prove faithless. Adieu, my Caroline. EMILy. ADVANTAGES OF STUDYING NATURE. 269 LETTER XXXII. FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. MY DEAR FRIEND, Tue taste for natural history, that we have both acquired from a residence in the country, seems to have great advantages. To say nothing of the endless variety of amusement it has afforded us, with- out any mixture of remorse, or misapplication of time, it has led us to trace the wisdom of the Great Creator in all his works that have fallen under our observa- tion ; for who can observe the harmony between con- struction and habit in the animal world, and not adore the “ Hand Divine” that formed them? The strength and weapons of each are exactly proportion- ed to the enemies with which it has to contend: if weak and defenceless, their instincts lead them to avoid danger, by concealment or stratagem. Some- times the colour of their coats forms their security : insects, and probably many birds, are of nearly the same hue as the places they inhabit. The sober plumage of green-finches and linnets nearly accords with the green leaves and brown branches of trees. Several of the tribes of water-fowl are of a light grey 270 ANIMALS ADAPTED TO THEIR STATION. or ash-colour, not very dissimilar to that of the sea ; and it is well known, that the Siberian hare, and other inhabitants of northern regions, turn white on the ap- proach of winter, when the ground, for months, is cover- ed with snow. Thus, the same end is attained by different means. If the outside form and colour are thus nicely adapted to the accommodation of the animal, the inside is no less so: its powers of digestion are suit- ed to the food it is to consume: each one has its pecu- liarities, that harmonize with its own mode of life, and with no other. The same study leads us still further : it instructs us, that not their bodies only, but their dispositions, inclinations, and degree of intelligence, correspond exactly with the situation each creature is to fill, and that more or less sagacity in any of them, so far from increasing their happiness, would disqualify them from performing their respective tasks. The in- stincts of each tribe, of whatever class, are so nicely contrived, as to promote, in the best possible manner, its preservation and enjoyment, and demonstrate most powerfully the design of an all-wise and benefieent Creator, who delights to diffuse happiness to innumer- able orders of beings ; even to the most minute and, in our eye, inferior links of that stupendous chain that reaches from celestial intelligences to the animalcule that cannot be perceived without a microscope. The mental powers appear to diminish, in a sort of scale STORY OF A SPANIEL. 971 proportioned to the rank of the creature that is endow- ed with them. Man, partaking of the animal nature, though endowed with the noble faculty of reason, is first subject to the influence of instinct. Quadrupeds, after man, are the most intelligent of the lower world, and the most capable of deviating from the instinctive impulse ; as is evinced by innumerable well-attested instances of sagacity, that seem to be the result of re- flection and experience in the horse, the dog, and the half-reasoning elephant. One of these occurs to my recollection, and supports.my theory so completely, that I must relate it. The late Hon. General Murray, governor of Quebec, a short time before his death, when become feeble, walking out one morning in his grounds at Beauport, near Hastings, attended only by a little spaniel, fell, and was unable to rise. The dog immediately ran into the house, barked, and pulled the servants by their clothes ; but failing to gain their attention, he ran about till he found a labourer, whom he succeeded in leading to the spot where the general still lay, unable to rise.* Instinct alone could never teach him to seek assist- ance in this manner, to raise up his fallen master. Birds seem to hold the next rank to quadrupeds ; fishes to birds ; and lastly, the beautiful, active, and diminutive race of insects, appear most entirely under * Mrs. Davies Giddy. 212 PECULIARITIES OF INSECTS. the guidance of instinct ; but though, perhaps, wholly devoid of any other principle of action, their structure and habits well deserve the attention of the inquisitive mind, which may perceive, in these little creatures, the same wise adaptation of means toa certain design, as in the animals of greater magnitude and more en- larged capacities. Some peculiarities are common to them all: none have less than six feet ; some, many more: they are always furnished with antenne, which are distinguished from horns by being jointed and flex- ible, and are supposed to be the organs of some sense of which we are ignorant. The head has neither brain, ears, nor nostrils: most of them have two eyes ; spiders have eight. Leuwenhoek discovered eight hundred lenses in a fly ; and Pugett, seventeen thou- sand three hundred and twenty-five, in the cornea of a butterfly. They are furnished with pores on the sides of their bodies, through which they breathe ; yet, from microscopic examination, some of them are found to possess several lungs and several hearts. Silkworms have a chain of hearts, as may be plainly seen when they become almost transparent, and are near spin- ning. Such insects as live in communities, like bees, ants, &c. are of three sexes. Each family of bees has one female only, called the queen, who is the mother of the whole hive; many males; and a very great number of neuters, or working bees, which provide all VARIOUS HAUNTS OF INSECTS. 273 necessaries for the young brood, by collecting honey and wax, building up the cells, watching the approach of an enemy, &c. The outside covering of the bodies of insects is often hard, and supplies the place of bones, of which, internally, they are destitute. Another cir- cumstance peculiar to insects is, a change from one place to another: from the egg is hatched the caterpil- lar or maggot, which is transformed into the chrysalis, from whence proceeds the fly, or perfect insect. As insects are endowed with the various powers of creeping, flying, and swimming, the air, earth, and water teem with them: and so minute and numerous are they, that scarcely any place is free from them. Trees, shrubs, leaves, and flowers, are the favourite haunts of many kinds ; rocks, sands, rivers, lakes, and standing pools, of others ; whilst different tribes being appointed to clear our globe from all offensive sub- stances, resort to houses, dark cellars, damp pits, rot- ten wood, subterranean passages, putrid carcasses, and the dung of animals. These little creatures, so feeble, so diminutive, apparently so insignificant, are, never- theless, powerful agents to benefit or injure mankind. My ignorance will not suffer me to mention half their uses ; but some of them serve for food, others for me- dicine ; some are important in the arts, and especially to the dissecter. The great Ruysch surprised the ana- tomists of his day by the nicety of his preparations, 7 274 DEVASTATIONS OF INSECTS. which far excelled those of all his competitors. No one could imagine what means he used for this pur- pose, till he acknowledged that the flesh-maggot was the workman he employed, by suffering it to devour the fleshy parts. In their devastations, they have often destroyed the hopes of the husbandman, and threatened famine to a whole district. Locusts have been known to darken the air, and to devour every, green thing, leaving destruction and terror behind them. The white ants in Africa and the West Indies are very formidable, both abroad and in the house, as they spare hardly any substance that comes in their way ; wood, paper, &c. are devoured with undistin- guishing fury. Dr. Darwin remarks, that the small green insect that often covers the stems and leaves of plants, called the aphis, if its innumerable tribes were not thinned by various rapacious enemies, would de- stroy every kind of vegetable, and starve the whole human race. But, by the wise appointment of an all-discerning Providence, it is so ordered that a ba- lance is preserved: one species serves as a check upon another, and maintains a due proportion. The minuteness of insects, and the small recesses in which they conceal themselves, withdraw them from our notice, so that the habits of many of them are very imperfectly known ; yet there are some par- ticulars so curious and interesting, mentioned by Mr. SPIDERS WEB. Qa Palmer in a lecture on these little creatures, that I long to obtain further knowledge about them, and am beating every bush and shrub in search of cockchafers, caterpillars, flies, and moths. Could my former ac- quaintance see me thus employed, how they would ridicule my taste for pursuing such objects as they be- hold with disgust! But we see with different eyes. A spider would excite, in most of them, abhorrence, if not terror. Reason and habit have so overcome the prejudices of my infancy, that I can look at them, not only without apprehension, but with admiration. What can deserve attention more than a spider’s web ? How artful its construction! each web being adapted to the place it is to fill. This little artist strengthens those lines that are too weak, by joining others to the middle of them, which she attaches to distant objects. These nets serve two purposes: the first and most obvi- ous is, that of entangling flies, the natural prey of the spider; the other, to supply the want of wings, and convey the insect from place to place. Field spiders being more exposed to the injuries of dews and tem- pests, construct their nets with more mathematical exactness than the house spiders: with such precision is instinct accommodated to circumstances. Some spiders have a dwelling, or lodging-place, in the middle of the web, well contrived for warmth, security, or concealment. There is a large spider in 276 JAMAICA SPIDER. South America, which forms nets of so strong a tex- ture as to entangle small birds, particularly the hum- ming-bird. In Jamaica, there is a species that digs a hole in the earth, obliquely downwards, about three mehes in length, and one in width: this cavity the imsect lines with a tough, thick web, which, when taken out, resembles a leathern purse. But what is a still greater defence, this house has a door with hinges, like the enclosure of an oyster or a muscle, which is opened and shut when any of the mhabit- ants go abroad or return home. Many insects, if they are touched, defend themselves by feigning death: they instantly roll themselves up, or shrink, as it were, from danger, and remain motion- less a considerable time. The different species of gall- insects produce a nidus for their young ; as, the thorny excrescences on briers, the oak-apples, the lumps on leaves of trees, and those on the backs of cows. The strongest impulse, through all the insect tribes, after satisfying hunger and self-defence, is that of pro- viding for their future progeny ; but, as the existence of the mother, in many kinds, terminates long before the young are hatched, this care cannot be attributed to affection, but to an invariable law, impressed on every individual by the hand of the Creator, for the purpose of preserving the species. Ichneumons dis- play extraordinary sagacity in the disposal of their ICHNEUMON FLIES. 246 eggs: they remove them many times in a day, either nearer to the surface of the ground, or deeper below it, according as the heat or moisture of the weather varies. One species of ichneumon fly digs a hole in the earth, and, after carrying two or three living caterpillars into it, deposits her eggs there, then nicely closes up the nest with leaves ; providing, in this artful manner, as if she had foresight, warmth to hatch her young, and food for their sustenance when brought to life. Some ichneumons lay their eggs in the backs of caterpillars, where their maggot is nourished with that substance that is converted into the silk thread of which the future cocoon is formed. Insects that go through several transformations often place their eggs where they may find food of a different nature from that which they themselves con- sume ; for example, butterflies lay their eggs on leaves, though they eat honey; but let it be remembered, that it is a caterpillar, and not a butterfly, that is to proceed from the egg. Instinct teaches animals to ac- commodate their habits to different climates. Spar- rows, even in this country, are said to build their nests without a covering when placed under shelter, and with one when exposed to the weather. ‘The small birds of Europe, if in those countries where mon- keys abound, change the form of their nests to that of a long purse, suspended at the end of the bough of a 278 INSTINCT OF WASPS. tree, to secure their young from the attacks of that animal. Ina part of Siam which is subject to inun- dations, the ants form their settlements on trees: no ants’ nests are to be seen anywhere else. Thus it appears that instinct is an unerring guide, teaching her pupils just as much as is necessary for them to know ; and likewise an impartial one, for she bestows her gifts equally on all the individuals of the same species. How different from the genius and in- telligence of the human race! amongst whom such minds as those of Newton, Locke, Columbus, &c. ex- alt their possessors so much above their fellows, that they are like a superior race. But a few more re- markable instances of this impulse will render my let- ter more worthy your acceptance. Wasps are said to catch large spiders, and finding their long legs an impediment, cut them off, and after- wards carry their mutilated bodies that can no longer es- cape, to their young. Dr. Darwin relates, that he saw a wasp ona gravel-walk, that had caught a fly nearly as large as himself: he separated the tail and the head from that part of the body to which the wings were attached: after this operation, he took the body- part in his paws, and rose about two feet from the ground. A gentle breeze wafting the wings of the fly, turned him round in the air, and he settled again with his prey upon the gravel. He then cut off with his mouth, first one of the wings, and then the other ; NYMPH OF WATER-MOTHS. ~ 279 after which he flew away with it, undisturbed by the wind. The same author says, that the nymphe of the water-moths of our rivers, which cover themselves with cases of straw, gravel, and shell, contrive to make their habitations nearly in equilibrium with the water. When too heavy, they enlarge their bulk with a bit of wood or straw ; when too light, they add a bit of gravel. The instinctive faculty teaches them, without reasoning, to adjust the weight of their frail dwelling with that of an equal bulk of water. The case of the wasp and the fly seems less consistent with the unifor- mity of the operations of those insects. Insects, in some instances, mistake their instincts. At a certain season of the year, the fire-flies in Ja- maica are seen in the evenings in great abundance. When they settle on the ground, the bull-frog greedily devours them ; which has probably suggested the idea of destroying those animals by throwing red-hot pieces of charcoal towards them in the dusk, when they leap at them, and hastily swallowing them, are destroyed. In like manner, the putrid smell of the stapelia, or carrion-flower, allures the large flesh-fly to deposit her egos in its beautiful petals, where the young worms, when hatched, perish for want of nourishment. Long-legs, moths, and many kinds of flies, mistake the light of a candle for the rays of the sun, and rush into the flame to their destruction. 280 INSTANCES OF MISTAKEN INSTINCT. In the three last examples, the intention is pervert- ed from accident ; but it is the consequence of that invariable law bestowed for their preservation. These are a few of the innumerable displays of Divine wisdom and goodness in the various classes of the minute tribes of insects; but they are sufficient to induce you to acquaint yourself with more; and my letter is already so long, that I shall only add, that I am, with unalterable friendship, yours, CAROLINE. ‘WANTON CRUELTY CONDEMNED. 981 LETTER XXXIII. FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. BzLiEVE, dear Caroline, that your last letter afforded me much entertainment, and has excited my curiosity to examine for myself into the wonders of the insect world. I have bought a microscope, and am already surprised at the beauty of many of those tiny creatures, that I have so often overlooked as ugly or insignificant. I would begin to make a col- lection of them, but I cannot resolve to put them to death merely for my pleasure. I abhor the idea of inflicting pain, or taking away life from any creature, wantonly; and it often astonishes me to see some people, otherwise humane, stamp upon a spider or a beetle without repugnance. Women are more tender- hearted than men ; which may partly be attributed to a wise provision of nature, to qualify them for the maternal office. But they are also indebted to edu- cation: cruelty is discouraged in girls, as unamiable and discordant with their natural character; so that an affectation of great sensibility has, of late years, been very fashionable. Boys, on the contrary, from 282 HUMANITY SHOULD BE EARLY INCULCATED. false notions of courage and spirit, are suffered to take birds’ nests, to tyrannize over horses and dogs, &c. till their feelings are blunted to a degree that influences their conduct the rest of their lives. This prevails most where there is least cultivation ; consequently, we see animals treated with the most unfeeling bar- barity by butchers, fishmongers, poulterers, draymen, cattle-drivers, &c. But can we expect reformation, whilst those who should know better buy crimped fish, and deal with poulterers who pluck their fowls before they are dead? which is a common practice, because it is done with less trouble. The lesson of humanity to every thing that breathes should be taught from the very dawn of reason, and repeated on every occasion of enforcing it. Angling with worms, birds’-nesting, and spinning cockchafers, are, by the unthinking, overlooked in their children as the com- mon amusements of their age; but they harden the heart, and sow the seeds of a cruel disposition, that is often exercised towards wives, children, and ser- vants. My warmth on this subject is probably increased by the severe discipline of a horse-breaker to a colt of my father’s. I remonstrated day after day, but could gain no attention, or any other reply than “ it was necessary to bring him to obedience.” Mr. Craven happened to call at this time: I renewed the subject, SULLIVAN THE WHISPERER. 283 hoping that he would unite with me in entreating compassion towards the poor colt. Instead of this, he said he did not know how it could be avoided, un- less we were in possession of the secret of James Sulli- van, who had the art of subduing the most ferocious horse in a very extraordinary manner. Seeing my curiosity was excited, he proceeded as follows: “ James Sullivan, madam, was a native of the county of Cork, and an awkward, ignorant rustic, of the lowest class, generally known by the appellation of the Whisperer, and his profession was horse-break- ing. The credulity of the vulgar bestowed that epi- thet upon him, from an opinion that he communicated his wishes to the animal by means of a whisper ; and the singularity of his method gave some colour to the superstitious belief. As far as the sphere of his con- trol extended, the boast of vent, vidi, vici, was more justly claimed by James Sullivan, than by Cesar, or even Bonaparte himself. How his art was acquired, or in what it consisted, is likely to remain for ever unknown, as he has lately left the world without di- vulging it. His son, who follows the same occupa- tion, possesses but a small portion of the art, having either never learned its true secret, or being incapa- ble of putting it in practice. The wonder of his skill consisted in the short time requisite to accomplish his design, which was performed in private, and without 284 SINGULAR MODE any apparent means of coercion. very description of horse, or even mule, whether previously broke or unhandled, whatever their peculiar vices or ill habits might have been, submitted, without show of resist- ance, to the magical influence of his art, and, in the short space of half an hour, became gentle and tracta- ble. The effect, though instantaneously produced, was generally durable. Though more submissive to him than to others, yet they seemed to have acquired a docility unknown before. When sent for to tame a vicious beast, he directed the stable, in which he and the object of the experiment were placed, to be shut, with orders not to open the door until a signal given. After a téte a téte between him and the horse for about half an hour, during which little or no bustle was heard, the signal was made, and, upon opening the door, the horse was seen lying down, and the man by his side, playing familarly with him, like a child with a puppy-dog. From that time he was found perfectly willing to submit to any disci- pline, however repugnant to his nature before. I once saw his skill tried on a horse which could never before be brought to stand for a smith to shoe him. The day after Sullivan’s half-hour lecture, I went, not without some incredulity, to the smith’s shop, with many other curious spectators, where we were eye-witnesses of the complete success of his art. This, OF BREAKING HORSES. 985 too, had been a troop-horse ; and it was supposed, not without reason, that, after regimental discipline had failed, no other would be found availing. I ob- served that the animal seemed afraid whenever Sulli- van either spoke or looked at him: how that extra- ordinary ascendency could have been obtained, it is difficult to conjecture. In common cases, this myste- rious preparation was unnecessary. He seemed to possess an instinctive power of inspiring awe, the re- sult, perhaps, of a natural intrepidity, in which, I believe, a great part of his art consisted ; though the circumstance of the ¢éte a ¢téte shows that, upon par- ticular occasions, something more must have been added to it. A faculty like this would, in other hands, have made a fortune, and great offers have been made to him for the exercise of his art abroad; but hunt- ing, and attachment to his native soil, were his ruling passions. He lived at home, in the style most agree- able to his disposition, and nothing could induce him to quit Duhallow and the fox-hounds.” * When Mr. Craven had come to the termination of his story, my father, who is rather incredulous, cried out: “ Well, Craven, there are many unaccountable * Rev. Horatio Townsend’s Survey of the County of Cork. This gentleman remarks, that though the above facts appear almost incredible, they are nevertheless indubitably true, and he was an eye-witness of their truth. P. 438. 286 HABITS OF THE HORSE. things that are true ; but I would not have believed this, if you had not seen it yourself.” From Sullivan, and his wonderful powers, the con- versation turned upon the sagacity of horses. In a wild state they live in troops, and when hunted by the Tartars, set watches to prevent being surprised, and have commanders,’ who direct and hasten their flight. In this country, in a domesticated state, when several horses travel in a line, the first always points his ears forward, and the last points his backward ; whilst the intermediate ones appear to be quite care- less in this respect, as if they trusted to the vigilance of their companions at each end of the line, to listen to any sound of danger, either behind or before. Is this instinct, or a preconcerted measure ? There are some parts of a horse which he cannot reach to rub when they itch, particularly about the shoulder, which he can neither bite with his teeth, nor scratch with his hind foot. When this part itches, he goes to another horse, and gently bites him in the part which he wishes to be bitten: a kind office that is immediately performed by his intelligent companion. An attentive observer of nature * once remarked a young foal bite its mother for this purpose. The mare did not choose to drop the grass she had in her mouth, and, instead of biting it, merely rubbed her nose * Dr. Darwin. ITS CHARACTER. 287 against the foal’s neck ; from whence he inferred, that it was reflection, rather than instinct, that taught her to rub where she was bitten. In the extensive moorlands of Staffordshire, the horses stamp upon the gorse furze with their fore feet, in order to break the points of their thorns, which renders it convenient to eat ; whereas, in more fertile parts of the country, horses take no such precaution, from want of experience, as it appears,—but when they attempt to feed on this shrub, prick themselves till their mouths bleed. Next to the elephant, I think the horse the most noble, generous, useful creature that man renders sub- servient to his will,—+though, perhaps, a Laplander would prefer the rein-deer, or an Arab the camel ; but I am not so well acquainted with their disposi- tions, though I acknowledge their usefulness in their respective countries. Of all domestic animals, swine are the least pleas- ing; yet Mr. Craven assures me that we are apt to regard them as stupid merely from the forbidding ap- pearance of their exterior form, and their disagreeable habits of wallowing in the mire, and eating any kind of food without discrimination. He says that they have more intellect than is generally supposed: that nature has bestowed on them a sense of touch, as well as smell, at the end of the nose, which they use as 288 AN AMERICAN SOW. we do our hands, both to root up the soil, and to ex- amine any thing eatable that comes in their way. In our uncertain climate, experience teaches them to col- lect straw in their mouths, to make their nest when the wind blows cold, and to assemble their com- panions by repeated calls, to assist in the work, and add to their warmth by lying close together. Mr. Craven finished his vindication of the swinish race by the following anecdote of an American sow. This animal passed her days in the woods, with a numerous litter of pigs ; but returned regularly to the house in the evening, to share with her family a sub- stantial supper. One of her pigs was, however, quiet- ly slipt away to be roasted ; in a day or two after- wards, another; and then a third. It would appear that this careful mother knew the number of her off- spring, and missed those that were taken from her ; for, after this, she came alone to her evening meal. This occurring repeatedly, she was watched coming out of the wood, and observed to drive back her pigs from its extremity, grunting with much earnestness, in a manner so intelligible, that they retired at her command, and waited patiently for her return. It is evident that creatures far excelling the swine in saga- city do not appear to notice a dimimution in the num- ber of their young, or take any precautions for their safety. GOOD WISHES OF EMILY. 289 It is said that the estates of Mr. Campbell, in the West Indies, have sold for a much larger sum than was expected, and that his affairs bear a very favour- able aspect. How sincerely should I rejoice, were he able to repay your fortune, and recal you from your long banishment from your affectionate friend, EiMILy. 290 CAROLINE REGAINS HER FORTUNE. LETTER XXXIV. FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. DEAR EMILY, THE report you heard of Mr. Campbhell’s pro- sperity is true. Several things, besides the advanta- geous sale of his West Indian property, have contri- buted to make him, once more, a man of fortune ; particularly the death of his eldest brother, who, be- ing a rich bachelor, has left him a considerable sum of money. These circumstances, uniting with his own exertions and skill in business, have reinstated his affairs, and enabled him to repay me what is my due. I had a letter from him last week, in which he informs me of these particulars, and, im the kind- est manner, invites me to return to his house, where he assures me I shall always find an affectionate home. This proposal I cannot accept, though I feel very grateful for that, and many former marks of paternal regard. Yet the sacrifice would be too great. The alteration in my taste and habits has unfitted me for a town life; and my attachment to AN INVITATION TO EMILY. 991 Mrs. Saville is so great, I would not quit her for the wealth of India, especially as she will shortly be de- prived of the society of her dear Rachel, who is on the point of giving her hand to Mr. Henry Palmer. The match is very agreeable to Mrs. Saville, but Rachel will live at twenty miles’ distance. I shall be a poor substitute for such a daughter; yet every thing that tenderness, respect, and filial affection can inspire, I shall fulfil, as the most delightful task of my life. The sense of pecuniary obligation has long been the only allay to my enjoyment: this unex- pected change of circumstances relieves me from this uneasiness, and enables me to render Mrs. Saville’s situation affluent. I have no other pleasure im riches, but sharing them with these dear friends. I am under the necessity of coming to London, to take possession of my property, but shall wait till the marriage is over, when my aunt and cousins will accompany me. It. will not be more that a fortnight before I shall be with you; of course, our correspond- ence will cease till my return, when we must once more be contented with this kind of communication, unless you will be induced to try the retirement of a Welsh cottage, and take up your abode with us for a few months ; a proposal that I hope you will not refuse. But I believe you will be easily persuaded to accept it, when you are acquainted with my Cambrian 292 INSTINCT WEAKENED BY DOMESTICATION. friends. I shall then enjoy as much felicity as is to be found, when surrounded by all I love best; and already anticipate the delightful rides, walks, and con- versations, we shall have together. Our friends, the Palmers, will join our society, and complete our intel- lectual entertainment. As instinct has so long been my theme, I shall ter- minate our correspondence with some remarks* on that subject, by Mr. Palmer, which are the result of observation, and have afforded me much gratification. It is matter of curious speculation, to consider how the instinct of animals grows weaker in proportion to their closer approximation towards mankind and their dwellings. The beaver, the carcasou, and many other ani- mals in their entire savage state, when seldom ap- proached by human beings, seem to have the do- minion of the wild, and to exercise a degree of fore- thought and wisdom, both in procuring what is neces- sary, and in avoiding what is dangerous, that appears incredible to those who, living in a cultivated coun- try, have no means of tracing the progress of this wonderful sagacity. The cause of this faculty be- coming more obtuse when animals are, to a certain degree, associated with man, when they enjoy his protection and inhabit his domains, is sufficiently ob- * T am indebted to Mrs. Grant for these remarks. KINE IN A WILD STATE. 993 vious. Nature, both liberal and frugal, always does enough to obtain her purpose, but resumes her gifts when no longer useful. This applies particularly to those animals which we merely protect and fatten, without expecting from them any services that re- quire a recollection of the past, anticipation of the future, or, in short, any exercise of those powers which do not, like instinct, operate uniformly, but are rather a kind of borrowed light from the rational powers of the thinking and governing nature. Kine, for instance, in a wild state, possess an acuteness both of sight and smell, anda spirit and fierceness in defending their young, which entirely disappear when, by domestication, we have reduced them to a condition in which the former of these qualities would be of no value, and the latter, dangerous to them- selves and others. In their wild state, they distin- guish by the smell the grass where the footsteps of man are to be traced, and particularly that where any person has sat or lain, with symptoms of the ut- most rage and horror. This degradation of the natural instincts 1s appa- rent in sheep, goats, fowls, &c. In horses and dogs, too, they are much diminished ; but here is a wonderful substitute provided, in that borrowed light formerly mentioned. It is not to feed upon them, but to make their strength, their diligence, their sagacity and at- 294 BEAVER IN THE WILD STATE. tachment, subservient to various important purposes, that we tame and teach those generous and affectionate animals. And here I must pause, to observe the wise order of Providence in setting certain limits to the do- minion of man, over the subordinate creatures. Those which, from their habits or the peculiar conformation of their bodies, are not fitted to love us, or labour in our service, as the dog and the horse, or to clothe or feed us, as kine, sheep, and poultry, resist all our efforts to domesticate them, by refusing to continue their species in that state of imprisonment and de- gradation to which we would subject them. All those whom their nature and instincts peculiarly fit for consuming the waste fertility of the untrodden forests, or for pursuing their prey where the hot and enervating climate might sink the inhabitants mto unmanly softness, without such an enemy to stimu- late their courage and prompt their vigilance ; such animals refuse the yoke of subjection, and, in con- finement, their instinct decays, or appears in some mode useless to themselves and pernicious to others, of which many instances might be given. The beaver, in particular, in his native state, is superior in forethought, and something like intelli- gence, to every inhabitant of the wild. He is politic, vigilant, social, and, one might almost add, patriotic, when his incessant labours for the public good are BEAVER IN CAPTIVITY. 295 considered. He is most industrious, and most versa- tile in the modes of his industry; being, by turns, a labourer, a wood-cutter, a plasterer, a house-builder, and a frugal and provident caterer: he is a senti- nel too, occasionally ; and, in self-defence, a soldier. No difficulties discourage, no toils exhaust him: pa- tient and indefatigable beyond all example, he sees the labour of years, those immense trees which have been formed into barriers seemingly immovable, by the incredible strength and unwearied exertions of the whole community,—he sees these monuments of his toil swept away by the floods, and instantly begins, with renewed and undaunted activity, to repeat, for the same purpose, the same labours. Behold this powerful artificer in a state of captivity: (for that cannot be termed subjection, where there is neither obedience nor docility:) no creature can be more awkward or unsightly, or seemingly less adapted to serve or to please. Those strong, short legs, and the sideling gait, which were so well adapted for assisting his associates in dragging the trees they had previous- ly felled, make him appear more ungainly than can be easily conceived. The trowel-tail seems to drag on the ground, as a useless incumbrance ; and, from its flat, broad form, and naked surface, suggests the idea of something amphibious. Thus odd and unpleasing in its appearance, its habits are not more captivating. 296 RESTLESSNESS OF CAPTIVE BEAVER. The fine instinct which exalts it in a wild state above other animals, seems degraded or perverted. The only distinction it shows its master, is forbearing to bite him, which it is very ready to do to strangers. It will follow him in the uncouth manner I have described, and, from the habit .of ceaseless industry that it has acquired in a state of liberty, works, ex- cept in the depth of winter, the whole night long. When wild, it collects food in the day, and cuts and drags wood in the night. When tamed, which can only be done by taking it whilst very young, it is necessary, on account of its restlessness, to leave it out in the yard. There it employs itself the whole night in carrying fire-wood from the pile, and block- ing up the door with it; so that when the family rise in the morning, they find themselves barricaded with a quantity of wood, that takes no small time to remove. From what has been already said, it appears that the sagacity of animals is in its highest perfection, in the two extremes of utter estrangement from man, or that intimate familiarity with him which results partly from sharing his pursuits and occupations. In the former case, being entirely unaided and unpro- tected by human power and intelligence, more saga- city is requisite to provide for its wants, and shun or conquer its enemies. In the latter, while receiving MAN IN A SAVAGE STATE, 297 kindness, and a sort of culture from his master, the reciprocation of good offices, as well as the similarity of pursuits, in which the dog and horse, for instance, are associated with the shepherd and the hunter, seems to enlighten the former with a ray of human reason, and warm them with a degree of human af- fections. It is in that intermediate state, when the animal has lost the wild freedom of the forest,— when it is become the slave of man, without acquir- ing the privilege of being his friend and companion, — that instinct languishes, without being replaced or improved by that borrowed beam from human intel- ligence, to which I have so often alluded. Man, born lord of the inferior creatures, with powers to conquer the strong and circumvent the subtle, is himself an example of this interregnum: that languid, enfeebled state of the faculties, when neither stimulated by necessity, as in a state of unrestrained freedom and independence, nor cultivated by superior intelligence, when relieved from the pressure of the former condi- tion. The savage, when advanced to a kind of social state,—when, like the beaver or the bee, he forms part of a community,—builds a habitation, and provides for future wants. In this period of ad- vancement, the savage, whose life of perpetual exi- gencies keeps all his inferior faculties in continual exercise ; who knows no restraint, hopes for nothing 298 ENDOWMENTS OF THE SAVAGE. but what he can easily attain, and fears no enemy but such as he is accustomed to subdue: such a savage, though his rational powers cannot be said to be un- folded,—though he has not attained to the privileges, or assumed the dignity, of which reasoning man is eapable,—is still a noble animal, in comparison with the enslaved and unenlightened peasants, who groan, in many parts of the world, under the iron hand of oppression ; without being visited by the light that leads to heaven, or exalted by the arts that promote our ease and comfort in the present life. The savage is more quick of apprehension, more swift of foot, more acute in all his senses, more dexterous, more ingenious ; in short, much better qualified to supply his own wants, procure his own enjoyments, and resist physical evils of every kind. Nor, in the blended proportion of physical and in- tellectual powers, does man, in this enslaved and uninstructed state, bear the same rank among his fellow-men, as animals domesticated, yet not caress- ed or cultivated, do among their fellow-animals. I know only one instance in which an example may be found of the wild imstinct being little impaired, and a kind of borrowed intelligence superadded. This is the Highland cattle, whose wide, free range in the mountains, is calculated to cherish their native in- stinct ; and were it not for early domestic education, HIGHLAND CATTLE. 299 would be apt to restore them to their primitive habits. But the severity of the winter, and the scarcity of provender, oblige the poor people to nurse the breed- ers, and even the last year’s calves, with great ten- derness. In this case, affection becomes grafted on interest. A poor man, who has at most only three milch-cows and a couple of stirks, as they call the last year’s calves, that they may be kept warm and well tended, keeps them under his own roof. They are placed in the further end of the house, divided from the rest by a very slight screen of sticks and clay, and often in a situation where they always are within view of their owners. A few sheep and a little horse excepted, these creatures are all their worldly wealth, and therefore the chief objects of their solicitude. Not content with almost starving themselves to purchase food for them in years of scarcity, they caress and talk to them, in a voice so soothing, and language so endearing, and the animals seem so conscious and so grateful, and become so very much a part of the family, that it is affecting to see the mutual kindness that subsists between them. Yet it is surprising that animals so wild and lively in all their motions, should be susceptible of such lasting impressions, and retain so perfect a recol- lection of all their friends, after six months’ absence in the mountains. When thus kindly spoken to, strok- 300 INFLUENCE OF MUSIC ON CATTLE. ed, and caressed, they express their complacence by a peculiar kind of breathing, that gives the idea of placid content. Nor is this the only expression of their sensibility. On meeting their old acquaintance after a long absence, they greet them with plaintive lowings. They acquire a taste for music, too, whilst dwelling in these vocal cottages, where the voice of song is so frequently heard. This rural melody cer- tainly calms the irritation produced by heat and in- sects in a summer’s evening, when, without it, they could not be milked with safety. This is a fact so well established, that a girl is not thought fit for a dairy-maid unless she can sing; and if it so hap- pens, in some rare instance, that one who has no power of voice is selected for this employment, she takes another with her who can sing, to assist im milking, and to lull the fold with the wonted strains that are peculiar to this avocation; the theme of | which is generally either the habits of cattle, their favourite summer haunts, or the simple adventures of those who attend them. Thus fondled, and made at one period, as it were, a part of society, and at another let loose to the boundless range of the sum-~- mer pastures, they are in some degree cultivated, and retain much of the instinctive faculty, without any of the ferocity, of the wild animal of the same SAGACITY OF A BULL. 301 species. They will recognise, after a long absence, and fondly caress, their own calves, after they have become mothers of another race; and even caress the young of those, from fondness for the parent who has been so long estranged from them. Many instances of the sagacity of these creatures are well authenticated by those who reside in_ the country, which, by the inhabitants of other parts, would be deemed incredible. One, however, I shall mention, as haying fallen under the inspec- tion of a particular friend,* on whose veracity I can rely. The whole country near Laggan, where my friend lived, was uninclosed. When he took possession of his farm, there was hardly a march dyke, as division fences are called there. A mere slight, ideal boun- dary, or, at most, marked by a range of stones, separated his fields from those of his neighbours. This gentleman had a lead-coloured bull, who was a beautiful creature of his kind, and grazed with the cows in the open meadows. It was the constant occupation of a boy, kept for the purpose, to watch the milch-cows and their guardian, lest they should trespass on his neighbour’s fields, and destroy his com. This boy was fat and drowsy, and was * Mrs. Grant, when resident at Laggan. 302 TRESPASSING COWS CHECKED BY A BULL. often found asleep on his post; an offence as unpardonable in a Highland herd as in a senti- nel. The ploughman, provoked at the frequency of this fault, chastised the boy whenever the cat- tle trespassed. The boy, enraged at this, kept a long switch, and with it revenged himself with an unsparing hand, if they exceeded their boundary. The bull seemed to have observed with concern this consequence of their transgression, and acted upon his observation. He had no horns, as is frequently the case with northern cattle; but then he had a hard and powerful forehead, with which he used to strike the cows, and punish them severely if any one attempted to cross the limit, or in any way trespass. In the mean time, he set them the ex- ample of perfect self-denial, never oncc entering the forbidden bounds, and placing himself before the cows in a threatening attitude if they presumed to approach it. At length his honesty and vigilance became so obvious, that the boy was employed in weeding and other business, without fear of their misbehaviour in his absence. This fine animal’s vigilance could only proceed from a desire to keep his companions from punishment, not from any dis- tinction of property. With this extraordinary account I close my letter and my correspondence; at the same time, CONCLUSION. 303 fully impressed with the expectation of very short- ly enjoying the pleasure of your conversation, which will be better than a hundred letters. Till we meet, and ever afterwards, your sincere and affectionate friend, CAROLINE. THE END. LONDON: PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY, Dorset Street, Fleet Street. Arba ay ’ 1A t nid WAN ne Nav i\ ih ii) F i) \ Wy He > Ml, i a DUNT ANTON RAN ae NT HO Hy yA rn My nN Mh Pit ty Bi) ye We sa if wa i if vk ay y re Me P Ou \ ; Hy wae ( SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION LIBRARIES | ll 3 9088 OO2520b3 3 eee ayes be of we