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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. 


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INSTINCT DISPLAYED, 


IN A 


COLLECTION OF WELL-AUTHENTICATED FACTS, 


EXEMPLIFYING THE EXTRAORDINARY SAGACITY 
OF VARIOUS SPECIES OF 


THE ANIMAL CREATION. 


BY PRISCILLA WAKEFIELD. 


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LONDON: 
DARTON AND HARVEY, GRACECHURCH STREET. 
1836, 


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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 : : <P Wy ee Pane, 145 


LETTER XIX. 
FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


Anecdotes of Animals.—A blind Man’s Dog.—Ingenuity of 
a Horse.—Docility of the Goldfinch.—A Pig and Badger used as 
Pointers. — Story of a Child and Snake. — Attachment to 
Home. . : : : : . : : : 154 


LETTER XxX. 
FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


A delicate Benefaction.—A Nest incased in growing Wood.— 
Story of a pair of Eagles.—An Eaglein confinement.— Deviations 
from pure Instinct.—Instinct modified by circumstances. 161 


LETTER XXI. 
FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


Friendship of a Horse and Dog.—A domesticated Peewit.— 
Animal antipathies overcome. — Animals reared by the Cat.— 
A Badger suckled by a Cat.—Eels and Salmon of the River Ban. 
—WSingular Stratagem of Eels.—God’s care of his Creatures. 168 


LETTER XXII. 
FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


Animal and Vegetable coincidences. — Power of Rhinoceros 
to inflate his Skin. — Organic Structure of Fish. — Teredo, or 
Ship-worm.—Herbivorous and Carnivorous Animals:—General 
Diffusion of Animal Life. — Pleasures derived from the Senses. 
—Man’s peculiar Pleasures Intellectual. — God’s goodness in- 
effable. . ° : ° : . ° . . 176 


X1V CONTENTS. 


LETTER XXIII. 
FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
Superior Instinct of certain Animals.—A Child fed by a Dog. 
—A Whale chased by a Dog. — Docility and attachment of a 


Dog.—The Dog of Montargis.—Combat between the Dog and 
Murderer.—Conscience disarms the Murderer. . Page 185 


LETTER XXIV. 
FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 

Story of a Shepherd’s Dog.—A Dog trained to go on Errands. 
—Ingratiating Amiability of a Dog.—Canine Patience.—Dog’s 
distress at loss of its Young.—Singular Actions of a Cat.—Kit- 
tens adopted by a Dog.—Sagacity of a little Terrier. . 193 


LETTER XXV. 
FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 

Vast distances travelled by Cats. — Domesticated Wild-fowl. 
—A Horse trained to feign Death.—Story of Indian War Ele- 
phants. — Docility of Elephants. — Their useful Properties. — 
Elephant in a state ofanger. . : . : : 202 


LETTER XXVI. 
FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
Amiable qualities of Animals.—A ferocious Bull reconciled to 
the object of its hostility.—Treatment of Animals.— Affection of 


a Linnet.—Attachment and Antipathies of a Linnet.—A flection 
of a Peacock to his Mate.—The Dog of Ulysses. : 211 


LETTER 2X Vil. 
FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


Anecdote of Monkeys.—Cubbeer-burr. — Hindoo superstition. 
-—Imitative faculty of Monkeys.—Ape, an ugly copy of Man. 


CONTENTS. XV 


— Ribbed-nose Baboon. — Orange Monkey. — Apes, Baboons, 
and Monkeys.—The Oran Otan.—Anatomy of the Oran Otan. 
— Habits of the Pigmy Ape. — Malice of the Barbary Ape. — 
Hare-lipped Monkey. — Chinese Monkey. — Monkey called the 
Preacher.—Activity of the Squirrel Monkey. — Female Monkey 
and her Young.—Tails of Sapajous and Sagoins. Page 221 


LETTER XXVIII. 
FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


A Dog employed in Salmon Fishing. — Phosphorescence of 
the Ocean.—Gratitude of an Elephant. ° . : 238 


LETTER XXIX. 
FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
Olfactory Sense in Animals.—Acuteness of Canine Scent.— 
Reflections on Animal endowments. — Domesticated Tigers. — 


Tiger and Elephant compared. — Sympathy between Elephants. 
—Decoy Elephants.—Rage of entrapped Elephant. . 242 


LETTER XXX. 
FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 

Character of Mrs. Saville-—Anecdote of the Irish Rebellion. 
—Fidelity of a Dog. — Remarkable fast of a Dog.—Dog’s at- 
tachment to his Master. — Long journey of a Dog. — Metrical 
Summary of Canine Services.—Rachel’s Newfoundland Dog. 

250 


LETTER XXXI. 
FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


Wedded happiness. — Minnows. — Bird’s Nest in Block of a 
Mast.—A Chaffinch and his Mate. — Nest in Cavity of a Mast. 
—Superstition of Seamen.—Fishing by Pelican and Cormorant. 


XVi CONTENTS. 


—Pelican’s Nest.—Pelicans on the Niger.—Ingenuity of Crows. 
—Happiness ofa future state. . . . « Page 258 


LETTER XXXII. 
FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


Advantages of studying Nature—Animals adapted to their 
Station. —- Story of a Spaniel. — Peculiarities of Insects. — 
Various haunts of Insects. — Devastations of Insects.—Spider’s 
Web.—Jamaica Spider.—Ichneumon Flies. —Instinct of Wasps. 
—Nymphe of Water-moths.—Instances of mistaken Instinct. 

269 


LETTER XXXIII. 
FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


Wanton cruelty condemned. — Humanity should be early in- 
culcated.—Sullivan the Whisperer.—Singular mode of breaking 
Horses.—Habits of the Horse. —Its character—An American 
Sow.—Good wishes of Emily. . . . aI ShiPs 281 


LETTER XXXIV. 
FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


Caroline regains her Fortune.—An invitation to Emily.—In- 
stinct weakened by domestication.—Kine in a wild state-—Bea- 
ver in the wild state. — Beaver in captivity. — Restlessness of 
captive Beaver.—Man in a savage state. — Endowments of the 
savage.-—Highland Cattle. — Influence of Music on Cattle.— 
Sagacity of a Bull. — Eee ae Cows checked by a Bull. — 
Conclusion. : . . . ° . 290 


INSTINCT DISPLAYED. 


LETTER I. 


FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


DEAR EMILY, 


To-morrow will be my birth-day, when I 
shall be eighteen. A large party was invited to cele- 
brate the day, and great preparations were made for 
the occasion: the drawing-room in my guardian’s 
house was to be decorated with festoons of natural 
flowers, illuminated with coloured lamps ; music was 
ordered, that my juvenile visitors might be entertain- 
ed with a dance ; and I thought of nothing but plea- 
sure. Little aware of the uncertainty of the future, 
I was ill qualified to bear the disappointments that 
have followed these prospects of joy. 

Mr. Campbell, whom I have regarded as a father 
ever since I can remember, and in whose hands my 
whole fortune was placed, has made some unfortunate 

B 


9g EMPLOYMENT IN LONDON. 


bargains on the Stock Exchange, by which he is 
ruined ; and I am obliged to depend for subsistence 
on the bounty of my mother’s sister, who lives with 
her daughter, on a small income, in a retired part of 
Wales. 

Educated as I have been, in a fashionable manner, 
and accustomed to the gaieties of London, how shall 
I bear the uniform secluded life that my good aunt 
and cousin lead in the country? Since I left school, 
my time has been at my own disposal: the mornings 
have generally been devoted to shopping with young 
ladies of my acquaintance, a promenade in the park, 
or some other similar amusement: my afternoons 
have always passed in company at home, or parties 
abroad. The few intervals of leisure that I could 
command from these daily engagements were spent 
at the piano-forte, or in reading books of entertain- 
ment. What an insufferable change must I endure, 
to be confined to the society of two persons, both 
strangers to those pursuits that T have been accustom- 
ed to consider as the prime enjoyments of life: to be 
banished from London, and obliged to pass my ex- 
istence in a country village, where the sound of a 
coach is seldom heard! To-morrow, instead of my 
birth-day festival, I depart from the gay metropolis 
in a stage-coach; and, if I reach the place of my 
destination in safety, I will give you an account of 


EARLY FRIENDSHIP. 3 


my reception, and tell you with what composure I 
bear the new mode of life I am compelled to embrace. 

Whatever misfortunes befal me, I flatter myself, 
my Emily, I shall still retain the same place in 
your affections that I have enjoyed ever since we 
were placed together at the same school ; and though 
capricious Fortune frowns on me, whilst she con- 
tinues to smile graciously on you, that your friend- 
ship will be undiminished towards your unhappy 


CAROLINE. 


4 JOURNEY INTO THE COUNTRY. 


LETTER II. 


FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 


MY DEAR EMILY, 


THE uneasy motion of the coach, and my 
depression of spirits, rendered my first day’s journey 
inexpressibly fatiguing: at night, weary as I was, I 
had no maid to assist me in undressing. I then 
felt, for the first time, that a fine lady is a very 
helpless being; and I comforted myself with the re- 
flection, that necessity would at least teach me to 
wait upon myself. Notwithstanding the novelty of 
my situation, in an inn, and amongst strangers, I 
slept soundly, and arose more capable of attending 
to the civilities of my fellow-travellers than the day 
before. For, believe me, Emily, the kindness of these 
people, whom, a few days before, I should have re- 
garded with false pride as my inferiors, was a great 
consolation to me in my forlorn situation. In the 
evening I arrived at my aunt’s, rejoiced to find myself 
under the protection of one who owned me for a re- 
lation. My cousin met me at the door with a most 
engaging welcome. She is about two years older 
than Iam. Her face is not regularly handsome, but 


RECEPTION BY HER AUNT AND COUSIN. i) 


an inexpressible sweetness is spread over every fea- 
ture: her mouth, especially, has the most gracious 
smile you can imagine. The first glance assured me 
that I should not be miserable with such a companion. 
She introduced me to my aunt, who was sitting in a 
parlour neatly furnished with white dimity, that over- 
looked a delightful view of an extensive country. 
She rose to receive me, and, with the tender salute 
of a mother, bid me consider her house as my future 
home. The thoughts of dependence brought tears 
from my eyes: I could only stammer out my thanks 
in broken accents. She seemed to perceive the cause 
of my tears; but, without making any remark, 
changed the conversation to the occurrences of my 
journey, and united with her daughter in every kind 
attention that could have been paid to the most re- 
spected visitor, rather than a poor dependent relation 
who sought an asylum from their bounty. My aunt 
is about fifty, and has been extremely handsome: 
benignity and intelligence are marked in her coun- 
tenance, and a certain dignity of manner that im- 
presses respect mingled with love. Two such per- 
sons I did not expect to find in a Welsh cottage ; for 
the house deserves no better title, though it has 
every convenience the wants of the family require. 
I have a chamber to myself, and view from my 
window a prospect that might supply Salvator Rosa 


6 THE COUNTRY.—CHANGE OF PURSUITS. 


with a subject: a mountain of sublime height rises 
before it, partially clothed with trees of varied beau- 
ty; through the midst of them rushes a cascade, 
which, after rain, swells to a cataract, dashing its 
’ silvery foam against the craggy rocks. The house 
is white on the outside, and stands in the midst of 
a garden, which my aunt and cousin cultivate with 
their own hands. The country around is beautiful 
and romantic: the walks are really charming, and, 
to me, full of novelty. The first few days I seemed 
stupid, and passed my time without employment. 
My aunt, who made allowance for my former habits, 
as well as my awkwardness in those occupations that 
fill every hour of their time, asked me, one morning, 
if I should not like to have something to do; and 
added, that the best cure for melancholy was a suc- 
cession of agreeable business. She then requested me 
to gather some flowers, and new dress the bouquets 
that adorn the chimney-piece. After many trials 
before I could arrange them to my own satisfaction, I 
finished them, as my aunt and cousin kindly told me, 
with some taste. Finding me pleased with my task, 
she has since given me others, which, though very 
different from town amusements, are not without 
interest. You would smile to see me equipped in a 
printed apron, and a basket of corm on my arm, as 
soon as breakfast is over, to accompany Rachel to the 


THE POULTRY-YARD. 7 


poultry-yard, where we are presently surrounded by 
a numerous tribe of the feathered race, who divert me 
extremely with their rivalships, their quarrels, and, 
above all, with the tender care of the hens for their 
young broods. The moment we enter, all is bustle 
and noise: each eager to push through the crowd, in 
order to pick up the first grain that falls from my 
basket. The king of our yard is remarkably beauti- 
ful: I cannot describe him better than in the words of 
Dryden : 


‘© High was his comb, and coral red withal, 
In dents embattled like a castle wall ; 
His bill was raven black, and shone like jet ; 
Blue were his legs, and orient were his feet ; 
White were his nails, like silver to behold: 
His body glitt’ring like the burnish’d gold.” 


This handsome bird struts about with an air of ma- 
jesty, attended by the females, who are also very pretty ; 
for Rachel is attentive to bring up those which are 
the beauties ofthe brood. To give you the history of 
one of our days, I should begin with the morning. I 
rise at six, three or four hours before my accustomed 
time: this gives me a day before you are awake, and 
my health is already improved by it. You would 
be surprised to see how rosy Iam grown. As soon 
as we are dressed, we all assemble in the common 
parlour, to hear Mrs. Saville read a chapter in the 


8 DAILY READING OF THE SCRIPTURES, 


Bible, which she has begun on my account, as I had 
only read scattered passages at school. Could you be 
present at our morning orisons, you would be charmed 
with the impressive manner in which my dear aunt 
reads the sacred volume. I never heard any thing so 
solemn before. Sarah, an old servant, who has lived 
many years in the family, and has faithfully ad- 
hered to her mistress through all the vicissitudes she 
has undergone, always attends; besides a young girl, 
named Fanny, that my aunt has taken from a neigh- 
houring cot, to assist Sarah in the laborious part of 
the work. At first, I was astonished to see the ser- 
vants take their seats amongst us ; but my aunt, with- 
out appearing to condemn my foolish pride, convinced 
me that the, salvation of the meanest of mankind is 
as important in the sight of the Universal Father as 
that of the most powerful monarch, and that heads 
of families are bound to use their utmost endeavours 
to afford religious instruction to every branch of their 
household. 

When reading is finished, we walk in the garden 
whilst breakfast is made ready. This sweet en- 
closure reminds me of the hanging gardens of Baby- 
lon ; for it is partly formed on the side of a hill, and 
the walks wind up the ascent, forming terraces one 
above another ; the uppermost shaded with a row of 
tall trees. On one side is a grove, with underwood of 


‘THE GARDEN. 9 


nut-trees ; and at the bottom glides a clear stream, 
in which we often watch the gambols of the fishes, 
for our amusement. Choice flowers, of various kinds, 
are cultivated with great care; for both my com- 
panions are skilful florists, as well as botanists. One 
part, concealed by a shrubbery, contains all kinds of 
useful vegetables, and simples for medicines, which 
Mrs. Saville dispenses to the poor; for she is their 
doctress, their counsellor, and their friend. Did you 
know how she is reverenced and beloved, you would 
not think me quite so much to be pitied. An hour 
or two is devoted to gardening, by Rachel and my- 
self; (for I am learning to be useful;) whilst my 
aunt overlooks her family concerns, and attends to 
the applications of the poor. I have not yet discover- 
ed the secret of her management ; for, with a very 
limited income, she has always the means of re- 
lef for the truly distressed. But more of this here- 
after. 

When our business is finished, we sit down to 
useful needlework, whilst one of us reads some in- 
structive book to the rest. The most handsome piece 
of funiture in Mrs. Saville’s house, is a large maho- 
gany book-case, well supplied with a select collection 
of books in most sciences. ‘This she calls her treasure, 
and says it is the only fragment she has saved from 
the wreck of her early fortunes. In her husband’s 


10 EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 


life-time she was accustomed to all the indulgences 
of affluence ; but Mr. Saville having lived to the ut- 
most verge of his income, and his estate being entailed, 
it went to a male heir, and, consequently, very little 
remained for her. 

We dine early, and the afternoons are often passed 
in drawing ; an art in which Rachel excels, particu- 
larly in taking views from nature. Sometimes we 
converse or walk ; and, they tell me, they occasion- 
ally pass an hour or two at the parsonage-house. 
But Ihave not yet seen either Mr. Palmer or his wife, 
as they are gone on a short excursion to the sea. 
We close the day, as we began it, with the Bible ; and 
retire to rest before the London fashionables have 
finished their dinner. 

However Gothic this mode of living may appear 
to you, I begin to think it is rather more reasonable 
than that into which I was cast at Mr. Campbell’s. 
Time is requisite to reconcile the mind to new views ; 
and regret will sometimes force itself on my mind at 
the recollection that I was so lately the gay, modish, 
and admired Caroline Greville ; and that now I am 
an obscure, dependent, country girl. The thought 
would overwhelm me, did not the example of Mrs. 
Saville convince me that it is possible to endure such 
a metamorphosis and be happy. Adieu. You shall 
soon hear again from 


CAROLINE. 


“ADVANTAGE OF EMPLOYMENT. iT 


LETTER III. 
FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 


So, my dear girl, all my acquaintance pity me, 
and wonder how I exist. You may tell them that 
I begin to like my new manner of living, and believe, 
when I am more accustomed to it, I shall become 
quite fond of it. My time never passed so quickly ; 
for I am always employed. If I happened to be 
alone when I lived in London, how tedious the hours 
seemed ! because, without an engagement, I had no 
pursuit. Now the case is widely different: every 
occupation is interesting. Do not suppose that there 
is no variety: Mrs. Saville’s conversation alone is a 
fund of amusement and instruction. She has seen a 
great deal of the world, mixed much in society, has 
studied mankind, and enriched her mind with reading. 
She possesses the uncommon art of correcting the 
faults of those she is with, so agreeably, that she wins 
their love whilst she obliquely reproves them. 

By leading me to a succession of employments, she 
has almost cured me of that slothful habit of lounging 
away time in doing nothing, or some trifle equivalent to 
it.—‘ Chase away your chagrin, Caroline,” says she, 


12 THE CHILDREN’S SCHOOL. 


seeing me look thoughtful, “ by pursuits that enlarge 
your understanding and improve your heart. Come 
with me, my love; you shall assist me in teaching 
twenty little girls their duty, in a school that I have 
established at a short distance. Their good dame, to 
whom I pay a small stipend, instructs them in read- 
ing and working ; but I take upon myself to explain 
the importance of religion and virtue, the necessity of 
governing the temper, and the advantages of order and 
good habits. The little prattlers all love me; and I 
seldom pass an hour more pleasantly than in behold- 
ing the improvement of this innocent assembly.” I 
accompanied her to the school, and enjoyed a delight 
that I had never felt before. I intend to repeat my 
visits, and have taken particular charge of six of these 
children. At the sight of their benefactress, love and 
veneration were spread on every countenance, and 
each seemed eager to obtain a smile of approbation. 

Sometimes our table is covered with maps of differ- 
ent countries ; and my aunt elucidates the climate, 
produce, and character of the inhabitants of each. 

Her favourite study is Natural History, in which 
she is assisted by Mr. Palmer, who has a very exten- 
sive knowledge on the subject. They wish to initiate 
me, but I am such a novice that I fear they will 
have a great deal of trouble. However, I am desirous 
of turning my attention that way, from the pleasure I 


STUDY OF NATURAL HISTORY. 13 


perceive every object affords to my aunt and cousin ; 
for Rachel, too, is a naturalist. The most insignifi- 
cant flower or insect is to them a subject of admira- 
tion, They glean from this source many enjoyments 
to which I am a stranger. 

Mr. Palmer has engaged us to attend a lecture at 
his house twice a week; the substance of which I am 
to write down, and shall send to you, if you have time 
or patience to read them. 

Thus does this enlightened woman contrive to pro- 
vide a succession of amusements in this retired soli- 
tude ; and so happily do I spend my time, that, ex- 
cept being an incumbrance to Mrs. Saville, I would 
not resume my former situation for any consideration. 
And then, my sweet Rachel, (but you must not be 
jealous,) she is so affectionate, so amiable, so modest, 
and such a pattern of filial piety, that I love her en- 
tirely, and am fully conscious of my own inferiority. 
The separation from you is one of my greatest trou- 
bles ; but I rejoice that this mode of communication 
still enables me to assure you, that J am, with unal- 
terable regard, 

Your 
CAROLINE. 


14 CHARACTER OF MR. PALMER. 


LETTER IV. 
FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 


DEAR EMILY, 


Mr. and Mrs. Palmer are a pleasing couple: 
superior to the flippancy of modish politeness, they 
are sufficiently refined for the society of any rank, 
whilst they possess an ease and simplicity which are 
quite charming. He is the father of his parish. His 
business is to instruct the ignorant, relieve the dis- 
tressed, visit the sick, comfort the afflicted, and re- 
form the vicious. When these important and inter- 
esting duties give him leisure, the study of nature is 
his recreation. His wife is young and pretty: she is 
a model of domestic management, and is the governess 
as well as the mother of the children. We spent a 
long afternoon with them yesterday: the conversation 
turned upon instinct, and since you express an incli- 
nation to profit by my studies, I shall give you Mr. 
Palmer’s opinion on the subject, in the clearest man- 
ner I am capable of expressing it. 

“‘Thesubject of animal instinct,” said he, “comprises 
many other interesting subjects, and requires an accu- 
rate investigation of the habits of animals. Dr. Paley, 


ANIMAL INSTINCT. 15 


in conversation, once defined instinct ‘ as a propensity 
prior to experience ;'—a definition that aptly expresses 
those unerring operations of the animal, and more 
especially the insect tribe, by which their food is ob- 
tained, and the safety and provision of their future 
offspring secured, when they themselves have ceased 
to exist, and which we again perceive to be punctual- 
ly and circumstantially followed by their young, 
unaided by parental precept or example. It has been 
justly remarked that * ‘the sagacity and laborious 
industry exerted in the various instances of animal 
architecture have one uniform tendency. They are 
all designed for the multiplication, protection, and 
nourishment of offspring. But many of them are so 
artful, and require such persevering labour, that the 
human mind is bewildered when it attempts to rea- 
son upon them. Some philosophers have had recourse 
to conformation of body, and mechanical impulse, to 
account for it. Their reasonings, however, though 
often ingenious, involve the subject in tenfold obscu- 
rity. We can hardly suppose that the animals actu- 
ally foresee what is going to happen, because, at first, 
they have not had even the aid of experience ; and, 
particularly in some of the insect tribes, the parents 
are dead before the young are produced. Pure in- 
stincts of this kind, therefore, must be referred to an- 


. Singllie’s Philosophy of Natural History, vol. xi. page 118. 


16 DEFINITION OF INSTINCT. 


other source. Ina chain of reasoning concerning the 
operations of nature, we are under the necessity of 
resorting to an ultimate cause, which, though unable 
to trace through all its ramifications, and only to un- 
derstand partially some of its effects; yet from those 
effects, thus dimly seen, we perceive the most con- 
summate wisdom, the most elegant and perfect con- 
trivances, to accomplish the multifarious and wonder- 
ful intentions of nature. In contemplating the ope- 
rations of animals, from man down to the seemingly 
most contemptible insect, we are necessarily compelled 
to refer them to pure instinct, or original qualities of 
mind, variegated by nature according as the necessi- 
ties, preservation, and continuation of the different 
Species require. *—‘ Reason acts with intelligence and 
design, profiting by experience, comparing motives, 
balancing probabilities, and is able to adapt itself to 
every change of circumstance. Hence, ifthere be any 
actions which are performed with every indication of 
design, forethought, and wisdom, which are not the 
result of instruction nor of individual experience, but of 
a power operating above the consciousness of the crea- 
ture, and directing it with unerring certainty to the 
desired end by means far above its comprehension 
whether in man or brute, those actions are instinc- 
tive: if, on the other hand, there be any actions which 


* Hancock, p. 16. . 


UNIFORMITY OF INSTINCT. ig 


evidently result from observation and instruction, 
indicating an intelligent power of combining means, 
and adapting them to ends of which the creature is 
conscious, these actions come within the province of 
reason. Addison, in speaking of instinct, remarks, 
‘TI look upon instinct as upon the principle of gravi- 
tation in bodies, which is not to be explained by any 
known qualities inherent in the bodies themselves, 
nor from any laws of mechanism ; but, according to the 
best notions of the greatest philosophers, is an imme- 
diate impression from the first Mover, and the Divine 
energy acting in the creatures: 

For reason raise o’er instinct as you can, 

In this ’tis God directs, in that ’tis man.’ 

“ The exact limits of instinct are difficult to de- 
fine, as the sagacity of animals often approaches to 
reason, and appears to outstep that faculty, which 
forms part of their nature, and impels them to certain 
actions that are essential to their well-being, or that 
of their offspring. In animals of the same species, 
instinct is invariably the same ; though the individuals 
that compose it have never had an opportunity of 
learning it from example. A canary-bird hatched in 
a cage, builds a nest as similar to those formed by 
canary-birds in their native woods, as she can with 
the materials that are given her; yet she has seen 
none of those of her own species for a model. 

c 


18 REASON PECULIAR TO MAN. 


« Instinct directs each kind of bird to choose that 
material, and to adopt that peculiar form, that best 
suit the constitution and number of her young. This 
impelling principle guides the eagle to fix her eyry on 
the summit of a tall tree ; whilst the lark, moved by 
the same irresistible inclination, places her humble 
dwelling on the ground. Were the feathered tribes 
led by accidental choice alone, great confusion would 
ensue. A waterfowl might build in the sandy desert, 
whilst an ostrich might destroy her future progeny 
by laying her eggs on the bank of a river ; whereas, 
under this infallible director, every oviparous animal 
deposits its offspring in that situation where it is like- 
ly to find protection against injuries, and a plentiful 
supply of food. 

“The results of instinct are stable, and exactly 
adapted to the wants of its owner as a species, 
whether beast, bird, fish, or insect: but reason is a 
yielding quality, governed by circumstances, and ac- 
commodating itself to the particular inclination or 
desires of the individual. Instinct teaches men to 
shelter themselves from the inclemencies of heat and 
cold; but reason enables every man to choose a dwell- 
ing and situation peculiarly adapted to his own taste 
and convenience. Reason, consequently, is various : 
instinct uniform. The first is the privilege of man, 
and is the test of an intellectual nature: the latter 


REASON PROGRESSIVE. 19 


has something belonging to it almost mechanical, and 
marks no degree of superiority or merit in the pos- 
sessor. One bee is as expert in forming the cell with 
geometrical exactness as another. The individuals of 
a whole species are equally skilful in performing the 
tasks of instinct: each fulfils his part in perfection, 
nor do they ever improve or degenerate : the bees of 
the present day do not excel those in the days of 
Adam. The same remarks belong to all the various 
tribes of animals: they rear their young, procure their 
food, and defend themselves from their enemies, as 
well as the first of their kind, and no better. 

“ Here, then,” continued he, “ is a clear distine- 
tion between reason and instinct. 

“ Let us pursue the comparison.— Reason is pro- 
gressive ; not only from infancy to mature age, but 
from one generation to another, as appears by the 
progress from the savage state to that of a highly 
civilized nation. In the first periods of society, men 
only supply the absolute wants of nature: but, as 
they advance, knowledge, founded on experience, 
produces the rude beginnings of the sciences ; useful 
discoveries are made, inventions are multiplied, and 
the comforts of human life augmented. But the arts 
of animals, if the expression is allowable, are always 
stationary, and reach at once to perfection. Every 
individual knows its proper business, without a model 


20 OPERATIONS OF REASON 


or a teacher. Another remarkable difference subsists 
between reason and instinct: the former is directed 
by motives, whilst the latter seems to have no other 
design than the gratification of an irresistible impulse. 
Men weigh consequences, and act according to their 
view of the readiest means of producing certain effects : 
animals perform their instinctive habits without fore- 
seeing the result. 

“As an example of this distinction, let us trace 
the operations of a man going to erect a mill. First 
he calculates the extent of his means, and whether 
his finances are adequate to the undertaking. He 
chooses a proper situation ; purchases timber ; engages 
numbers of his fellow-men, skilled in different arts, to 
assist him— bricklayers, carpenters, and blacksmiths. 
For each he provides proper tools and materials ; and 
when they are set to work, every part is contrived to 
answer a particular purpose, and is adapted to a de- 
termined place. He also takes into consideration the 
use for which it is designed ; whether it is to grind 
corn, or any other article that may require different 
machinery: and lastly, whether it is to be set in’ 
motion by wind, water, or steam. All this demands 
reflection, contrivance, design, science, and experience ; 
of which the most sagacious animal that was ever dis- 
covered is wholly incapable. A bird lays the twigs 
for her nest, and lines it in the same manner as her 


AND INSTINCT. ped 


ancestors did before her, without these mental opera- 
tions. Many animals store their provisions, that can 
have no foreknowledge of the change of seasons. Men 
sow, reap, and gather in the fruits of the earth, from 
experience and reason, which teach them the necessity 
of providing, in the abundance of the one, for the 
sterility of the other. Men act from motives ; animals 
from their propensities. Reason is more dignified than 
instinct ; but the latter excels reason in the perfection 
of its operations. The cells of a bee-hive are con- 
structed upon geometrical principles ; yet all the cells 
of every hive, even in different countries and ages, 
have always been, and still are, of the same shape and 
proportions. Show me the artist that could form 
twenty thousand of these minute cells with such ex- 
actness, let his tools be ever so nicely adapted to the 
purpose. 

“ The complete operations of instinct are greatly 
promoted by the admirable conformity of the organs of 
each animal to its modes of life ; which combines with 
the exquisite perfection of their senses, to enable them 
to perform their respective tasks, in a manner superior 
to the most ingenious imitations of men. But some 
creatures, it must be confessed, display an extraordi- 
nary sagacity, particularly when domesticated, adapt- 
ed to circumstances, and seeming to approach to reason. 
This is consistent with the order of nature, which is 


39 INSTINCT IN CHOICE OF FOOD. 


composed of gradations, which are so closely linked 
together, that it is very difficult to define the limits of 
the different classes. 

“‘ Another illustration of the wonderful manner in 
which pure instinct operates, is the choice which dif- 
ferent animals make of plants for food. Smellie* re- 
marks, that there is hardly a plant that is not rejected 
as food by some animals, and ardently desired by 
others. The horse yields the common water-hemlock 
to the goat, and the cow the long-leafed water-hemlock 
to the sheep. The goat again leaves the aconite or 
wolf’s bane to the horse. The euphorbia, or spurge, so 
noxious to man, is greedily devoured by some of the 
insect tribes. The leaves of the broad-leafed kalmia 
are feasted upon by the deer and the round-horned 
elk, but are mortally poisonous to sheep, to horned 
cattle, to horses, and to man. The bee extracts 
honey from this flower, without injury to itself; but 
the man who partakes of this honey after it is depo- 
sited in the hive-cells falls a victim to his repast. In 
the autumn and winter of the year 1790, at Philadel- 
phia, extensive mortality was occasioned among those 
who had eaten of the honey collected im the neigh- 
bourhood of that city, or had feasted on the common 
American pheasant, or pinnated grouse, as we call it. 
The attention of the American government was ex- 


* Vol. i. page 350. 


INSTINCT OF INSECTS. 33 


cited by the general distress, a minute examination 
into the cause of the mortality ensued ; and it was 
satisfactorily shown that the honey had been chiefly 
extracted from the flowers of the kalmia latifolia, and 
that the pheasants which had proved thus poison- 
ous, had fed harmlessly on its leaves. The conse- 
quence was that a public proclamation was issued, 
prohibiting the use of pheasants as food for that sea- 
son.* 

“‘ Kirbyt observes that the instincts of a considerable 
number of insects are endowed with an exquisiteness 
to which the higher animals can lay no claim. What 
bird or fish, for example, catches its prey by means of 
nets as artfully woven and as admirably adapted to 
their purpose as any that ever fisherman or fowler 
fabricated? Yet such nets are constructed by the 
race of spiders. What beast of prey thinks of digging 
a pit-fall in the track of the animals which serve it 
for food, and at the bottom of which it conceals itself, 
patiently waiting until some unhappy victim is preci- 
pitated down the sides of its cavern? Yet this is 
done by the ant-lion and another insect : and even the 
dwellings of the beaver, and the hanging nest of the 
tailor-bird, exhibit less wonderful and elaborate indi- 
cations of instinct than a society of bees, with all their 


* Oration, by Dr. Mason Good, p. 24. 
+ Vol. ii. p. 472. 


24, INSTINCT ADAPTS ITSELF 


peculiar arrangements for the future, and the good 
order of a numerous society of different gradations of 
rank and utility. It is, however, in the deviations of 
the instinct of insects, and their power of adapting 
their operations to a change of circumstance that the 
exquisiteness of these faculties is most decidedly mani- 
fested. IPfthenest of a bird is pulled out of a bush, 
though otherwise uninjured, she has no resource but 
to build another; but if insects in particular situa- 
ations are disturbed in their usual mode of proceeding, 
or by the act of man placed in entirely novel circum- 
stances, they surprise us by the wonderful ingenuity 
with which they adapt their actual powers to their 
new position. I once confined the caterpillar of the 
puss moth in a small basket, when about to undergo 
its transformation into the chrysalis state. It was 
covered over with a fine piece of net at the top. Two 
were in the same basket: one fixed itself to the lace 
net, the cotton texture of which was evidently pre- 
ferred by it to the smooth osier, for it rambled all 
round its enclosure and seemed to be choosing with 
“great deliberation a favourable spot to begin its opera- 
tions. When decided, it thickened the lace by smear- 
ing it with a strong glutinous liquor from its mouth, 
which, though it fastened backwards and forwards in 
thick filaments, it afterwards so covered with this 
viscous liquid as to leave no traces of thread. But. this 


TO CHANGE OF CIRCUMSTANCES. 25 


did not seem sufficiently secure, for it gnawed off por- 
tions of the basket, an operation which was most dis- 
tinctly heard, and then worked up these minute frag- 
ments with the gum from its mouth: in this manner 
it formed a solid case, which dried as hard as stone ; 
and as the basket was in part green and white, these 
colours were speckled minutely over its case. The 
other caterpillar confined with it, chose the bottom of 
the basket ; but the surface was evidently unsuitable 
to it. It repeatedly begun and discontinued its spin- 
ning till a leaf was thrown in; on this it immediately 
seized, and rolling it or rather disposing of it in 
a hollow form, it immediately attached it to the bot- 
tom and side of the basket by liquor from its mouth, 
and then proceeded in all respects like the other cater- 
pillar, gnawing off portions of the basket, and scatter- 
ing them over the case till it was rendered quite firm 
and hard. The astonishing power of the creature was 
shown in the manner it bit off these minute por- 
tions, the sound of which was remarkably clear and 
distinct. It is probable that if left to itself it would 
have used sand or earth; but I never saw a cocoon 
made by this caterpillar when at liberty to choose its 
own. materials. The apis muscorum, L. and some 
other species of humble-bees, cover their nests with a 
roof of moss. Mr. P. Huber having placed a nest of 
the former under a bell glass, he stuffed the interstices 


26 INGENUITY OF A DORMOUSE. 


between its bottom and the irregular surface on which 
it rested, with a linen cloth. This cloth the bees, 
finding themselves in a situation where no moss was 
to be had, tore thread from thread, carded it with 
their feet into a felted mass, and applied it to the same 
purpose as moss, for which it was nearly as well 
adapted. Some other humble-bees tore the cover of 
a book with which he had closed the top of the box 
that contained them, and made use of the detached 
morsels in covering their nest. 

“T once witnessed a similar instance of ingenuity in 
a tame dormouse which escaped out of its box, and 
contrived to conceal itself for two days in the corner 
of a pantry, close to where the bread was kept. In 
order to keep itself warm, it had bitten off with its 
teeth part of a damask napkin which it afterwards 
thoroughly carded with its feet, so as to leave no trace 
of threads or texture, but merely a mass of soft down, 
in the middle of which the fugitive was found imbed- 
ded and asleep. 

«« The instincts by which insects and animals pro- 
vide themselves with food, or add to the comforts of 
their local position ; the manner, for instance, in which 
cattle will take shelter during a storm, are all refer- 
able to sensations which we can partly understand ; 
but we are less able to account for the wonderful geo- 
graphical knowledge which they sometimes display. 


ANECDOTE OF AN ASS. 9% 


The bee, however devious have been its excursions 
from home, returns straight to the hive ; and the follow- 
ing well authenticated narrative places this geographi- 
cal instinct in a strong point of view. 

“In March 1816, an ass, the property of Captain 
Dundas, R.N. then at Malta, was shipped on board 
the Ister frigate, Captain Forrest, bound from Gibral- 
tar to that island. The vessel having struck on some 
sands off the Point de Gat, at some distance from the 
shore, the ass was thrown overboard to give it a chance 
of swimming to land. The sea was running so high, 
that a boat which left the ship was lost: a few days 
afterwards, however, when the gates of Gibraltar were 
opened, the ass presented himself for admittance, and 
proceeded to the stable of Mr. Weeks, a merchant, 
which he had formerly occupied, to the no small sur- 
prise of this gentleman, who imagined that from some 
accident the animal had never been shipped on board 
the Ister. On the return of this vessel to repair, the 
mystery was explained ; and it turned out that Vali- 
ante (so the ass was called) had found its way from 
Point de Gat to Gibraltar, a distance of more than two 
hundred miles, through a mountainous and intricate 
country, imtersected by streams, which he had never 
traversed before, and in so short a period that he could 
not have made one false turn. His not having been 
stopped on the road was attributed to the circumstance 


28 PUNISHMENT OF CRIMINALS. 


of his having been formerly used to whip criminals 
upon, which was indicated to the peasants, who have 
a superstitious horror of such asses, by the holes in 
his ears, to which the persons flogged were tied.” 
My letter is already too long. 
Kver yours, 
CAROLINE. 


ANTS. 29 


LETTER V. 


FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 


DEAR EMILY, 


An ant-hill, in one of our most curious flower- 
beds, has given us a great deal of trouble ; but I do 
not regret it, because it has been the means of open- 
ing a scene of new wonders to my mind. Though 
Rachel was vexed to see her flowers covered with 
ants, yet she could not help watching their motions, 
which drew my attention to them. I was surprised 
to perceive, that, though they were generally without 
wings, some of them were furnished with four large 
ones. Rachel informed me that the winged insects 
differ in sex from those which have no wings, and are 
the parents of the community ; that the greater num- 
ber of them are a kind of neutral insect, that labours 
for the whole, by building their nests, and taking care 
of the young; with many other curious particulars, 
which would almost make one believe that they were 
endowed with reason, their instincts are so completely 
fitted to their wants. I passed the chief part of my 
morning in observing this busy multitude, and was 
particularly diverted with seeing several of them 


30 TERMITES, OR 


attack part of a peach that was lying on the ground. 
After having satisfied their appetites, they began to 
endeavour to remove the remainder to their city ; but 
finding it too unwieldy for their powers, they divided 
it into pieces, and each one trudged off with its load. 
Soon after, another party seized a beetle, which was 
likewise a weight above their match: they had re- 
course to the former expedient of division. They 
sawed off his limbs, and carried him away in triumph; 
but not without other difficulties to subdue, for a small 
ridge intervened between them and their nest, which, 
like good pioneers, they levelled in one spot, and then 
proceeded with their treasure. 

Rachel, perceiving the interest I took in their move- 
ments, proposed entertaining me with an account, 
selected from the papers of Mr. Smeathman, concern- 
ing the zermites, an insect that abounds in the tropi- 
eal climates, the habits of which are very similar to 
those of the ant, but still more wonderful. I enclose 
a copy of it for you, since you tell me that my letters 
have stimulated you to look into the book of nature. 
I think it must afford you much amusement. I am 
glad to hear, that, during your retreat in the country, 
you turn your attention to the same kind of objects: 
that now form my daily recreation, as it gives me 
some hope that the simple incidents of my rural life 
will not be wholly uninteresting to you. Rachel de- 


WHITE ANTS. A | 


sires you will admit her into the circle of your friends, 
and ventures to unite her love with that of your affec- 
tionate 

CAROLINE. 


SOME ACCOUNT OF THE TERMITES, 0R WHITE ANT OF 
TROPICAL CLIMATES.™ 


The attention of mankind is almost equally drawn 
to those creatures that are either particularly useful, 
and therefore brought under their observation, or so 
destructive as to render precautions against their 
ravages necessary. Rapacious beasts are not the only 
enemies against which men are obliged to contend. 
Insects of various species, that, from their diminutive 
size and apparent insignificance, appear, at first sight, 
to be incapable of injuring a creature that is endowed 
with reason, and is justly termed lord of the creation, 
are, nevertheless, able to cause him much inconveni- 
ence. For it has often happened that the farmer has 
been disappointed of his harvest, that a nation has 
been reduced to a scanty portion of food, and other 
calamities have arisen, from the depredations of in- 


* The principal part of this accountis taken from Mr. Smeath- 
man. 


32 TERMITES. 


sects. Amongst the destructive classes may be 
ranged the termites, found in Africa and other warm 
climates, whose mischievous propensities are exerted 
in such an extraordinary manner, that no vigilance is 
a security against their attacks. It seems like a 
traveller's wonder to say, that a little insect, not 
larger than an ant, can undermine houses, destroy the 
supports and the woodwork, make its way through 
the floors, consume clothes, furniture, books, and every 
other article that is not made of stone or of metal. 
If the natives abandon a town composed of wooden 
houses, these industrious ravagers will clear it away 
so completely, that in two or three years a thick 
wood arises on the vacant space, and not a vestige of 
a house remains, unless any of the posts were made of 
iron-wood. 

Some instances of their rapacity may be amusing 
to those not interested in the consequences ; in order, 
therefore, to give a more exact idea of their operations, 
I shall relate the following circumstances. An engi- 
neer, who had been surveying a district in the Brazils, 
at going to rest, left his trunk on a table, as he sup- 
posed, in safety ; by the morning, he found his clothes 
and papers so far destroyed, that he was not able 
to collect a piece of either so large as a square inch. 

At another time, a party of them discovered a cask 


THEIR HABITS. 3a 


of Madeira, and worked so effectually on the staves, 
as to let out the liquor. 

The larger species (for there are several) chiefly 
make their approaches under ground, penetrating be- 
neath the foundation of houses or stores, and rising 
again, either through the floors, or by entering the 
bottom of the posts that support the building ; when 
they follow the course of the fibres, and make their 
way to the top, boring holes and cavities in different 
places as they proceed. Maultitudes enter the roof, 
and intersect it with pipes, or galleries, formed of wet 
clay ; which serve for passages in all directions, and 
enable them more readily to fix their habitation in 
it. They prefer the softer woods, such as pine and 
fir, which they hollow out with such nicety, that they 
leave the surface whole, after having eaten away the 
inside. A shelf or plank attacked in this manner 
looks solid to the eye, when, if weighed, it will not 
out-balance two sheets of pasteboard of the same 
dimensions. It sometimes happens that they carry 
this operation so far, on stakes in the open air, as to 
render the bark too flexible for their purpose ; when 
they remedy the defect by plastering the whole stick 
with a sort of mortar that they make with clay ; so 
that, on being struck, the form vanishes, and the arti- 
ficial covering falls in fragments on the ground. In 

D 


34 HABITS AND USES 


the woods, when a large tree falls from age or acci- 
dent, they enter it on the side next the ground, and 
devour at leisure, till little more than the bark is left. 
But in this case they take no precaution of strength- 
ening the outward defence, but leave it in such a state 
as to deceive an eye unaccustomed to see trees thus 
gutted of their insides. It is an extraordinary fact, 
that when these creatures have formed pipes in the 
roof of a house, instinct directs them to prevent its 
fall, which would ensue from their having sapped the 
posts on which it rests; but, as they gnaw away 
the wood, they fill up the interstices with clay, temper- 
ed to a surprising degree of hardness: so that, when 
the house is pulled down, these posts are transformed 
from wood to stone. 

We have already seen that it is easier to shut one’s 
door against a fox or a wolf, than to exclude these insi- 
dious enemies. On considering their destructive pow- 
ers, incalculable numbers, and amazing increase, an 
inquiry arises in the mind of a casual observer. To 
what purpose was this insect created ? and why was it 
endowed with instincts that lead it to be so injurious 
to man ? But he who has habituated himself to believe 
in the infinite goodness of the Father of the universe, 
will hesitate before he presumes that any part of his 
works is absolutely mischievous or useless. He per- 
ceives that, in various other instances, apparent evil 


OF TERMITES. 35 


is the source of great benefit; whence he concludes 
that the same arrangement may prevail in this case ; 
and, on further investigation, he discovers that, in 
the countries where the termites abound, vegetation is 
so exceedingly rapid and abundant, and counterba- 
lanced by an equal celerity of destruction from natu- 
ral or accidental causes, that, unless some indefatiga- 
ble agents were provided to clear away every sub- 
stance tending to decay, these fertile regions would. 
become uninhabitable from the pollution of the air. 
In this point of view, this insect is a most valuable 
creature ; and were it possible to annihilate the race, 
the consequences would be so baneful as to render 
their loss a serious calamity. It appears to be an 
invariable law of nature, that whatever has reached 
perfect maturity should decay, and yield its place to 
fresh productions. This principle is as observable in 
the vegetable, as in the animal kingdom: thus, when 
trees, and even woods, are partly destroyed by torna- 
does or fire, the instincts of many creatures impel 
them to consume the remainder, or prepare it for a 
speedy dissolution. None are more expert at this 
business than the termites; for, in a few weeks, 
they will divide and carry away the bodies of large 
trees, and leave a vacant space for a new growth of 
vegetable produce. 

However troublesome to individuals, therefore, this 


36 TERMES BELLICOSUS. 


little creature may be, its general use cannot be 
doubted. Its depredations on the labours of man 
may be called accidental, and are the result of its 
propensities, to promote the good of the whole. 

It is time to describe its figure, and the instincts 
with which it is endowed for the purposes of its own 
preservation. These creatures have received the 
name of white ants, from their colour when first hatch- 
ed, and the similarity of their habits to the common 
ant ; though they greatly excel it in their structures 
and internal policy. 

They live in communities, and build nests different 
in form, situation, and colour, according to the re- 
spective species. Mr. Smeathman, from whom this 
account is borrowed, has chosen the termes bellicosus, 
as being the largest and most easily observed, for the 
object of his particular description. The nests of this 
species are so numerous, that, in some parts, they are 
scarcely fifty yards separate, and of such magnitude 
that they might be mistaken for a village of the 
natives. They resemble a sugar-loaf in shape, and 
rise from ten to twelve feet perpendicularly above 
the ground: the outside shell may be compared 
to a dome, which encloses, and defends from the in- 
juries of the weather, the interior of the building, 
which is curiously divided into apartments for differ- 
ent purposes, that will be better understood when the 


ITS NEST. 5 


changes and habits of the insect are further described. 
The height of these hills, compared with the size of 
the architect, is vast, and their strength so great, that 
the wild bulls, which stand as centinels to the rest of 
the herd ruminating on the plain, generally take 
their place on one of them that is about half built. 
The commencement of this huge cone is a small tur- 
ret or two, about a foot in height, and of a sugar-loaf 
shape: at a little distance, other turrets, of a similar 
kind, are raised; when, by increasing the number, 
and augmenting the size, the base of the building is 
covered with them ; the highest and largest remain- 
ing in the centre, till, by filling up the intervals be- 
tween them, they are gradually formed into one large 
dome. When this is effected, they take away the 
middle ones entirely, (except the tops, which, united, 
make the crown of the cupola,) and then apply the 
same clay to some other purpose. 

In each community there are three orders of inha- 
bitants, which are produced from changes similar to 
those of the silk-worm and several other kinds of in- 
sects. The working termites are about a quarter of 
an inch long, and are far the most numerous, being 
in the proportion of an hundred to one soldier, which 
is the denomination Mr. Smeathman gives to them 
after the first transformation: in this state they as- 
sume a different form, and are increased to the bulk 


38 CHANGES OF TERMES. 


of fifteen labourers. The organs of the mouth 
undergo a remarkable change, evidently adapted- 
to the new office of its owner. Whilst a labour- 
er, a mouth formed for gnawing and taking hold 
of bodies was necessary, and it was accordingly 
well suited to that purpose; but when the insect is 
impelled by instinct to guard against the hostile 
attacks of an enemy, offensive weapons become re- 
quisite : it is now furnished with a formidable pair of 
piercers, or jagged forceps, capable of inflicting a pain- 
ful wound. These forceps are placed in a strong, 
horny head, larger than all the rest of the body. 
The third metamorphosis is still greater: almost 
every part is altered from its original form, and four 
brownish, large, transparent wings, appear to enable 
the perfect termes to seek a convenient spot for a new 
settlement. The bodies of these are enlarged to the 
bulk of thirty labourers, and on each side of the head 
is a large round eye; but whilst the creature lived 
under ground, no eyes were visible. The greater 
number of the multitudes of these flies, which emi- 
grate from the parent colony, perish in the course of 
a few hours, and become the prey of innumerable 
birds, reptiles, insects, and lastly, of man, as they 
are esteemed a nourishing, delicate food, that wants 
no other cookery than simply roasting before the fire. 
The few pairs that are so fortunate as to survive the 


COMMENCEMENT OF NEST, - 39 


various casualties that assail them, are found by 
labourers, (termites,) which, at this season, are run- 
ning continually on the surface of the ground, on the 
watch for them. As soon as they discover the ob- 
jects of their search, they begin to protect them from 
their surrounding enemies, by enclosing them in a 
small chamber of clay ; where they become the pa- 
rents of a new community, and are distinguished from 
the other inhabitants of the nest by the title of king 
and queen. Instinct is the principle which directs the 
attention of these labouring insects to the preserva- 
tion of their race, in the protection of this pair and 
their offspring. The chamber that forms the rudi- 
ment of a new nest, is contrived for their safety, but 
the entrances to it are too small to admit of their ever 
leaving it ; consequently, the charge of the eggs de- 
volves upon the labourers, who construct nurseries for 
their reception. These are small, irregularly-shaped 
chambers, placed, at first, round the apartment of the 
king and queen, and not exceeding the size of a hazel- 
nut; but, in nests of long standing, they are of far 
greater magnitude, and distributed at a greater dis- 
tance. These receptacles for hatching the young are 
all composed of wooden materials, apparently joimed 
together with gum, and, by way of defence, cased 
with clay. The chamber that contains the king and 
queen is nearly ona level with the surface of the 


40 APARTMENTS OF THE NEST. 


ground ; and, as the other apartments are formed 
from it, it is generally situated at an equal distance 
from the sides of the nest, and directly beneath its 
conical point. Those apartments which consist of 
nurseries and magazines of provisions, form an intri- 
cate labyrinth, being separated by small, empty 
chambers, and galleries, which surround them, or 
afford a communication from one to another. This 
labyrinth extends on all sides to the outward shell, 
and reaches up within it, to two-thirds, or more, of its 
height : leaving an open area above, in the middle, 
under the dome, which reminds the spectator of the 
nave of an old cathedral. Around this are raised 
three or four large arches, which are sometimes two 
or three feet high, next the front of the area; but 
diminish as they recede further back, and are lost 
amidst the innumerable chambers and nurseries be- 
hind them. The mechanical skill displayed in the 
contrivance of these chambers and passages, they 
being all arched so as to give support to each other, 
with the form of the hollow dome, adapted to collect 
a genial warmth for the tender young, which passes 
to the nurseries through openings suited to the pur- 
pose, must be attributed to instinct ; for the termites 
are not endowed with any faculties superior to other 
insects, if required to act out of that line marked for 
them by Providence. In constructing their habita- 


ROOF OF NEST WATER-PROOF. 4} 


tions, providing materials, guarding their infant pro- 
geny, collecting food, and defending themselves against 
their enemies, their instincts are admirable, and 
assume the appearance of order and design ; but take 
one of them away from its fellows, and place it ina 
situation entirely new to it, it has no judgment to 
direct its conduct, or to extricate it from its unfortu- 
nate lot; therefore, its habits, however wonderful, 
(and they are truly so, as will be further shown,) are 
only the irresistible effects of impulse, and performed 
without a knowledge of the future, or a motive for 
choosing one mode of building in preference to an- 
other. 

Great precautions are taken to keep the apartments 
dry ; the area mentioned before forms a roof that is 
water-proof, and would carry off any water that 
might accidentally enter the dome, by a communica- 
tion with some of the large, subterraneous passages 
that run at the base in various directions: these are 
lined with the same kind of clay of which the hill is 
composed, and ascend the inside of the outward shell 
in a spiral manner, winding round the whole build- 
ing till they reach the top: they intersect each 
other at different heights, and open either into the 
dome immediately, or into the interior building. 
From every part of the large galleries issue small 
pipes, or lesser galleries, leading to different parts 


42 INTERNAL ARRANGEMENT. 


of the building. Many of these run under ground, 
descending into the earth three or four feet perpen- 
dicularly ; from whence the labourers collect the 
finer particles, which, after being worked in their 
mouths to the consistence of mortar, become that 
solid clay of which their hills, and all their buildings 
except the nurseries, are composed. Some of these 
pipes extend to a vast distance, at least with re- 
spect to such minute creatures, being carried out more 
than an hundred yards from their main city. The 
large galleries are the great thoroughfares, and are 
well caleulated by their spiral direction for that pur- 
pose ; as the termites have great difficulty m ascend- 
ing a perpendicular, particularly the soldiers, pro- 
bably from the weight and size of their head. If 
any part of the building happens to be upright, the 
inconvenience of ascending it is often obviated by a 
road, made like a flat ledge, directed in the manner 
of those roads which are cut on the sides of steep 
hills, to. render the passage easier. It is probable 
that it is for the same convenience that they build a 
kind of bridge, of one large arch, which answers the 
purpose of a flight of stairs, from the floor of the area 
to some opening in one of the columns which support 
the great arches. This passage shortens the distance 
exceedingly to those labourers who have the task of 
carrying the eggs from the royal chamber to some of 


KING AND QUEEN. 43 


the upper nurseries ; which, in the largest hills, would 
be four or five feet in the straightest line, and much 
more if carried through all the winding passages 
which lead through the inner chambers and apart- 
ments. 

The king and queen, after once they are immured 
in their solitary cell, never quit it. The queen, like 
the queen bee, is the mother of the whole com- 
munity. In this confinement she undergoes a con- 
siderable change ; not so much by an alteration of 
form, as by an increase of size in a particular part, 
The abdomen, or lower body, stretches out like a bag, 
enlarging to a vast bulk, compared with the size of 
the labourers. Smeathman says he has seen this sack 
above five inches long. These queens are the parents 
of multitudes of eggs. Some of them have been ob- 
served to lay sixty in a minute, which, if uninter- 
rupted, would amount to eighty thousand in one day 
of twenty-four hours. Instinct directs the labourers 
to watch the queen, in order to take away the eggs 
as soon as they are deposited, and to carry them to 
the distant cells, where they are hatched, and attend- 
ed afterwards by these labourers, with the same care 
as most other creatures bestow upon their own pro- 
geny. 

It is another peculiar instinct of all the different 
species, that the working and fighting insects never 


4.4, ANTS AVOID THE OPEN AIR. 


expose themselves to the open air, without the great- 
est necessity ; but either travel under ground, or 
within such trees and substances as they destroy. 
If that necessity occurs, they makes pipes, of the 
same composition as their nests, varying the ma- 
terials according to their kind: one species using red 
clay, another black clay, and a third a woody sub- 
stance cemented with gums, as a security from the 
attacks of their enemies, particularly the common 
ant, which, being defended by a strong, horny shell, 
is more than a match for them, and when they can 
get at them, rapaciously seize them, and drag them 
to their nests, for food for their young brood. If 
any accident breaks these pipes, they repair the 
breach with all speed. Instinct guides them to per- 
form their office in the creation, by mostly confining 
their attacks to trees that are beginning to decay, 
or such timber as has been severed from its root 
for use, and would decay in time. Vigorous, 
healthy trees do not require to be destroyed, and, 
accordingly, these consumers have no taste for 
them. ; 

On opening one of their hills, a general alarm is 
excited. Some of the fighting insects immediately 
run to the place, and appear to survey the mischief, 


though they can only do so by feeling, as it may 


oy 
5 


be remembered that they are blind: their quick 


OPENING AN ANT-HILL. 4S 


motions express terror and rage, and they bite 
fiercely every thing within reach. By striking their 
forceps against the nest, they make a ticking kind 
of noise, which the labourers seem to understand, as 
they generally reply to it by hissing. After some 
time, if all is quiet, the fighters retire into the nest ; 
and the working insects fill up the chasm with fresh 
mortar, working with great regularity and dispatch. 
The soldiers have, by this time, disappeared, ex- 
cept here and there one, in the midst of several 
hundred labourers, who seems to overlook their 
work and hasten their operations by a stroke with 
his forceps, though he never assists them in their 
labour. 

On renewing the attack, the same scene is repeat- 
ed: but it is remarkable, that each class adheres to 
its own instincts; for, let the emergency be ever so 
great, the one order never attempts to fight, or the 
other to work. 

Mr. Smeathman relates, that, as he was one day 
on a shooting expedition, he perceived a numerous 
body of a very large species of termites, that issued. 
out of a hole, and marched rapidly forward, in two’ 
parties, chiefly composed of the working insects ; 
though they were attended by soldiers scattered 
among them, as if to keep them in order. During 
their march, which seems to have continued some 


46 TERMITES ON A MARCH. 


time, several of the fighting insects mounted up the 
plants which overhung the path the troop pursued, 
and placing themselves on the points of the leaves, 
which were from ten to fifteen inches above the 
ground, frequently tapped the leaf with their for- 
ceps, which produced a general hiss, and a quicker 
pace. After watching their progress for more than 
an hour, they began to descend into the earth, 
by two or three holes. It is remarkable that this 
kind were furnished with two conspicuous eyes, 
and, consequently, fitted for these excursions above 
ground. 

It is not necessary to point out all the peculiari- 
ties of instinct of each distinct species; but it may 
be curious to observe the varieties of the form and 
situation of their nests. One kind forms upright 
cylinders of well-tempered black earth or clay, about 
three quarters of a yard high, and covered with a 
roof of the same material, in the shape of a cone, 
projecting on all sides beyond the pillar. After one 
of these turrets is finished, it is neither altered 
nor enlarged; but if the community becomes too 
numerous for the habitation, the foundation of an- 
other turret is laid, within a few inches of the 
first. These turrets are often increased to the num- 
ber of five or six, at the foot of the same tree, 
in the recesses of the woods, Within, they are 


VARIETIES IN MODE OF BUILDING. 47 


divided into a vast number of irregular cells, but 
by no means so varied and artfully disposed as the 
interior of the hills of the termes bellicosus. 

Another species varies both as to the substance 
and situation of its nests. They are composed of 
small particles of wood, made into a sort of paste 
with the gums and juices of trees; and are frequently 
fixed between the arms of trees, often surrounding 
the branches at the height of seventy or eighty feet 
from the ground ; being of a round or oval shape, and 
of a very large size. 

The termites, as has already been said, abound in 
all tropical countries ; but their huge nests are most 
numerous in places not fully cultivated. As far as 
relates to their own wants, and the particular office 
for which they are designed, their instincts are admi- 
rable, and afford a striking instance of the exact 
adaptation of the means to the end. 

A more full account of their economy and internal 
management might have been given; but it is ap- 
prehended that enough has been shown to prove 
that this creature is amply endued with such an in- 
stinctive principle of action, as enables it to pursue its 
own interest in the most perfect manner, and to fulfil 
the destination of its Great Creator. 


48 CAROLINE'S STUDIES COMMENDED. 


LETTER VI. 
FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


MY DEAR CAROLINE, 


THE patience you have shown in your mis- 
fortunes, and the excellent use of your time in retire- 
ment, have made you a great favourite with my fa- 
ther and mother; as they flatter themselves that I 
shall profit by your example, and, in due time, be- 
come a very good girl. I hope so too; but I have 
a great deal to overcome before I can be half so amia- 
ble as you are. You are contented under the great- 
est disappointments, whilst the most insignificant 
trifle puts me out of humour. Yesterday I had set 
my mind upon taking a ride with a pleasant party of 
young people, but nothing would content my mother 
but that I should stay with her at home, to receive 
an old gentleman, who had engaged to spend the 
afternoon with her ; because he is a philosopher, and 
your letter on instinct must be shown to him. I sub- 
mitted with a very ill grace, and was some time be- 
fore I could recover the serenity of my countenance. 

Our visitor made me some amends for my disap- 
pointment, by a pretty anecdote * which he related, 


* Rey. John Hall’s Travels in Scotland. 


ANECDOTE OF TWO MAGPIES. 49 


as a proof that something like sagacity, superior to 
instinct, on particular occasions, excites animals to 
deviate from their accustomed habits. 

« Whilst I was travelling in Scotland,” said he, 
“as I was one day amusing myself with the objects 
within my view, on the road between Huntley and 
Portsoy, I observed two magpies hopping round a 
gooseberry-bush, in a small garden near a poor-look- 
ing house, in a peculiar manner, and flying out and 
into the bush. I stepped aside to see what they were 
doing, and found, from the poor man and his wife, 
that, as there are no trees all around for some miles, 
these magpies, several succeeding years, had built 
their nest, and brought up their young, in this bush ; 
and, that foxes, cats, hawks, &c. might not interrupt 
them, they had barricadoed not only their nest, but 
had encircled the bush with briers and thorns, in a 
formidable manner ; nay, so completely, that it would 
have cost even a fox, cunning as he is, some days’ 
labour to get into the nest. 

“* The materials in the inside of the nest were soft, 
warm, and comfortable ; but all on the outside so 
rough, so strong, and firmly entwined with the bush, 
that, without a hedge-knife, hatch-bill, or something 
of the kind, even a man could not, without much pain 
and trouble, get at their young ; for, from the outside to 
the inside of the nest, extended as long as my arm. 

E 


50 FOOD AND HABITS OF MAGPIES. 


“They fed the young brood with frogs, mice, 
worms, or anything living, within their power to sub- 
due. It once happened that one of the magpies hav- 
ing seized a rat, which it was not able to kill, one of 
the young ones came out of the nest to its mother and 
the rat, while they were fighting on the outside of the 
bush, and assisted her to kill it, which they were not 
able to accomplish, till the father, arriving with a 
dead mouse, also lent his aid. 

« These magpies had been faithful to one another 
for several summers, and drove off their young, as 
well as every one else that attempted to take posses- 
sion of their nest. This they carefully repaired and 
fortified in the spring, with strong, rough, prickly 
sticks, that they sometimes brought to it by uniting 
their force, one at each end pulling it along, when 
they were not able to lift it from the ground.” 

Believing that the whole circle of naturalists at the 
Parsonage cannot find you such another pair of mag- 
pies, I send you the narrative— 

And am, as ever, your affectionate 
EMIty. 


AN EVENINGS WALK. 51 


LETTER VII. 


FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


DEAR EMILY, 


Your friend’s description of the artful con- 
trivances of those ingenious magpies, would make 
ample amends for staying at home. The fondness of 
animals for their young is truly surprising ; and when 
called forth by particular circumstances, seems to 
give them powers beyond the common limits of their 
faculties. 

A few evenings ago, as I was enjoying a walk 
with my dear Rachel, she led me through some ver- 
dant meadows, covered with the sheep of a neigh- 
bouring farmer.* Our path lay within a hundred 
yards of a clear brook, formed by a small stream 
that descends from a mountain. Many ewes and 
lambs were feeding near us, but one in particular 
drew our attention by the singularity of its mo- 
tions. She approached us, bleating very loudly, and, 
after looking pitifully in my face, ran off towards 


* This anecdote is attested as a fact by Mr. Collet, in the 
Monthly Magazine for December 1808. 


52 THE SHEEP AND HER LAMB. 


the brook. At first we regarded her with a careless 
eye: but, on a repetition of the same actions, bleating 
still louder, and again running towards the water, 
showing an anxiety for us to follow her, by repeat- 
edly looking behind her till she reached the brook, 
where she stood still, she excited more notice; and 
having watched her for some minutes, without being 
able to account for her behaviour, we continued our 
walk, and had nearly reached the gate that led 
into the next field, when she came running after 
us the third time, and seemed yet more earnest, 
if possible, than before. We then determined to 
follow her, in order to discover the cause of her 
uneasiness. As soon as we turned towards the n- 
vulet, she ran with all her speed, looking frequent- 
ly behind her. When we reached the brink of the 
stream, she peeped over the edge of a hillock into 
the water ; looked up in our faces, as if to solicit our 
commiseration ; and bleated with the most significant 
voice I ever heard from one of those creatures we call 
dumb. Judge of our surprise when, on looking over 
the brink, we perceived her lamb standing close under 
the hillock, with the water nearly over its back. Ra- 
chel ran to the farm-house for help, whilst I staid by 
the anxious mother to assure her of our assistance. 
The lamb was presently rescued from its dangerous 
situation, when its fond dam began to lick and suckle 


her 


AFFECTION OF SHEEP. 53 


it ; looking up at us with pleasure, if not gratitude, and 
expressing her sensations by several cries, very differ- 
ent from those bleatings she had uttered in her dis- 
tress. 

The delight we felt was little inferior to that of this 
tender creature, whose maternal solicitude impelled 
her to a conduct that nearly approached to reason. 
Indeed, it is extremely difficult to fix the limit where 
instinct ends, and the reasoning faculty commences : 
so nearly interwoven are the gradations of being, that 
the distinctions are scarcely perceptible. 

The farmer’s wife was also well pleased at saving 
her lambkin, and entreated us to rest ourselves in her 
parlour, and partake of a bowl of raspberries and cream. 
We accepted her hospitable invitation, and were well 
entertained with her conversation, as she was qualified 
to give us much interesting information concerning the 
sheep. ‘Our old shepherd,” said she, “has had long 
experience in his business: he can readily distinguish, 
by the cries of the mother, whether a lamb is lost by 
drowning, falling into a pit, or destroyed by birds or 
beasts of prey. In the two first cases, she runs about. 
in a frantic, disordered manner, utters a wild sort, of 
cry, comes hastily back, and will look into the hole 
or pit where it is. If the lamb be carried away, her 
behaviour is still more disordered: she runs about 
from one of her neighbour’s lambs to another, and the 


54 COURAGE OF SHEEP. 


tremor of her voice shows the perturbation she suffers. 
Sometimes she expresses her woes in a long, melan- 
choly tone ; at other times, her bleat is a wild, inar- 
ticulate strain, expressive of her anguish. There are 
few creatures,’ continued she, “ that defend their 
young with more warmth, as long as they are able, 
than the sheep ; though, at other times, they are re- 
markable for the meekness of their spirit. When we 
put them to their mothers again after weaning, each 
sheep knows her own lamb, and ever after associates 
with it.” 

Upon this, I inquired how it was possible she could 
know that the lambs were recognised by their mothers : 
for to me all sheep have the same countenances. ‘‘ So 
far from that,” replied the farmer’s wife, “ the shep- 
herds know every sheep of the flock; and my husband 
remembers an instance of a man being hanged for 
sheep-stealing, at Bury St. Edmund’s, on the oath of 
the prosecutor, who swore to the countenance of the 
sheep.” We all agreed that we should be sorry to de- 
prive a fellow-creature of life on a circumstance that 
appeared to us so uncertain ; yet it was admitted as 
sufficient evidence in a court of justice. Rachel re- 
marked, that though the innocent and gentle disposi- 
tion of the sheep rendered it an amiable animal, she 
thought it had but little intelligence or attachment. 
The farmer’s wife said that they were not so deficient 


nie 


SHEEP ATTACHED TO LOCALITIES. 55 


in either as they appeared to those not conversant 
with them; as she could prove by two stories she 
had heard from their shepherd, who was a Scotchman, 
and had witnessed the facts.* 

«“ No animal,” resumed she, “ is more attached to 
that spot of earth on which it was reared, than the sheep. 
A ewe that was driven from Scotland into Yorkshire, 
made her escape, and after passing through towns, 
crossing rivers, &c. revisited her native spot in the 
hills of Annandale. Another from Perthshire came 
back to Hundishope, a store-farm nearly twenty-three 
miles distant from Edinburgh. When she reached 
Stirling, it was fair-day: she durst not venture 
through the town amongst the populace, but rested 
herself at its north side till the fair dispersed, and 
came through late in the evening.” 

Our repast being finished, we thanked our kind 
hostess for our entertamment, and returned by an- 
other path, along the sea-shore, leading over the crag 
of a projecting rock, which commanded a most beautiful 
view of the setting sun, gradually smking into the 
ocean, and tinting the waves with the richest colours. 
Whilst I was enjoying the extensive prospect, Rachel 
exclaimed: “ Observe, beneath, that crowd of fisher- 
men! they seem to have found something curious nm 


32 


the water; let us descend, and see what it is 


* Repertory of Arts. 


56 GORDIUS MARINUS. 


We accordingly did so, and found a worm of prodi- 
gious length, perhaps more than twenty feet long, and 
not thicker than a crow-quill. The fishermen said 
they had seen some of the same species as many yards 
in length; but we scarcely gave them credit for their 
assertion. Rachel knew, at the first glimpse, that it 
was a gordius marinus*; and said that its power of 
contraction and extension was so great, that it could 
not be measured: for that Mr. Palmer had put one of 
eight feet, alive, into spirits, and it instantly shrunk 
to one foot, but increased twice its former size in bulk. 
Whilst we were looking at it, it twisted itself into an 
indescribable variety of convolutions, and in its mo- 
tions frequently described the most graceful swells 
imaginable. I wanted to give the men a trifle to 
carry it home; but Rachel said it was scarcely possi- 
ble to preserve it in its natural state, for, if suffered 
to die in sea-water, one part will decay, whilst the 
other is alive ; and so sensible is this creature to any- 
thing contrary to its nature, that even fresh wate 
occasions an immediate contraction. Zs 
_ Upon our return home, we gave an account of the 
objects that had excited our attention ; when Mrs. 
Saville, who often contrives to draw moral instruc- 
tion from trifling circumstances, remarked, that the 
pleasure of this huge worm seems to consist in its 


* Transactions of the Linnean Society. 


ITS AGILITY.—-REFLECTIONS. 57 


agility, and perpetual change of form, which probably 
arises from a back-bone of balls and sockets, like the 
serpent tribe. “ This species of enjoyment,” said she, 
“is wholly animal ; yet it is adapted to the class of 
existence to which the gordius belongs. The grada- 
tions of enjoyment are as regular as the orders of 
creatures, or the degrees of intellectual capacity. Man 
is superior to every other inhabitant of this globe: his 
rational powers enable him to turn his attention on 
the objects by which he is surrounded ; he can inves- 
tigate their structure, their habits, and the laws that 
direct them to pursue their own good ; and he alone 
can refer the arrangement and government of this 
beautiful world, with all the creatures that dwell on 
it, to that Great Source of goodness and intelligence 
that created it.” 

Rachel, with ready recollection, immediately applied 
those lines of Burns, in confirmation of her mother’s 
assertion that every creature has its own peculiar 
happiness. 


The partridge loves the fruitful fells ; 
The plover loves the mountains : 

The woodcock haunts the lonely dells ; 
The soaring heron the fountains. 

Thro’ lofty groves the ring-dove roves, 
The path of men to shun it ; 

The hazel-bush o’erhangs the thrush ; 
The spreading thorn the linnet. 


58 HISTORY OF 


Thus, ev’ry kind their pleasure find ; 
The savage and the tender: 

Some social join, and leagues combine ; 
Some solitary wander. 


This conversation was scarcely finished, when Ra- 
chel, with more earnestness than usual, inquired 
whether Sarah had taken in her linnets; for she that 
moment recollected that she had carelessly left them 
abroad, when she went from home. “ They are safe,” 
replied Mrs. Saville; “ but, my dear girl, you have 
been on the point of losing them both.” Rachel’s 
cheeks flushed deeper red than usual at this intelli- 
gence. “ You had left Robert at liberty,” continued 
Mrs. Saville, ‘‘ and by some accident the fastening of 
Henry’s cage was undone; and just as Fanny was 
pringing home the cows across the lawn, she perceived 
him at the cage-door, ready to join his friend. She 
hastened towards him, before he had time to escape.” 

In order to make this account intelligible, I must 
tell you the history of Rachel’s linnets. They were 
caught by a nephew of her father’s, when a school- 
boy, who is since dead; and, being great favourites 
with their master, Rachel took them under her pro- 
tection.* These birds are very remarkable for an at- 
tachment to each other, though they have not been 


* Dr. Lettsom related these circumstances in the Monthly 
Magazine. 


RACHEL’S LINNETS. 59 


brought up together, and are both of the male sex. 
They have now been kept several years, and their 
friendship appears to be strengthened by time. The 
first tokens of their mutual regard were observed in 
the early part of their acquaintance: when one sang, 
the other joined it ; and, at night, each slept on that 
side of the cage which was nearest his friend. At 
length their attachment was more fully ascertained, 
when they were set at liberty whilst their cages were 
cleaned. One of these affectionate birds took the op- 
portunity of flying to the other’s cage, and they were 
afterwards occasionally indulged with enjoying each 
other’s company in the same cage; when they always 
expressed their high gratification, by fluttering towards 
each other, joining their bills together, and each gently 
pecking the tongue of his friend by turns. After some 
time, their young master ventured to allow one of 
them to fly abroad in the open air, whilst the cage of » 
the other was hung on the outside of the window as 
a pledge for the return of his friend. Rachel grants 
this indulgence sometimes to one and sometimes to 
the other. They both appear greatly delighte. with 
the company of the wild linnets, with whom they». 
sport for several hours together; but no temptation 
can allure them to forsake each other. As soon as 
the hour of rest approaches, they return to the empty 
cage, which is placed near the other. Were both 


60 CRUELTY OF CONFINING BIRDS. 


allowed to go abroad together, it is not very likely 
they would ever come home: but so strong is their 
attachment, that they prefer captivity to separation. 
Should death divide these fond friends, it is supposed 
that the survivor would soon die with grief.* They 
were named Robert and Henry, after two favourite 
schoolfellows of Rachel’s cousin; and, as he valued 
them highly, she has tended them with great care 
since his death. 

If Rachel had not such a particular motive for keep- 
ing these birds, they would have been set at liberty 
long ago ; for she disapproves the cruel custom of con- 
fining birds in cages. 

I hear the summons for dinner, which obliges me 
to put an abrupt termination to my letter. Adieu. 


CAROLINE. 


f * Which actually happened to Dr. Lettsom’s linnets. 


Se ee 


ANECDOTE OF A SPARROW. 61 


LETTER VIII. 


FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


MY DEAREST GIRL, 


I apmirE your friendly linnets, and think 
they should have been named Damon and Pythias, 
after the celebrated friends of ancient story. They 
prove, at least, that birds have affection, if they have 
not reason. But I can assure you that they are ca- 
pable of attachment, not only to their own species, 
but also to those who feed them, and to the place 
where they have been sheltered and nourished. 

We are apt to consider sparrows as stupid, and re- 
gard them with an unfavourable eye because they eat 
a little of our corn ; but a friend of my mother’s re- 
lated an mstance of the sagacity of one she had brought 
up tame from the nest, that really astonishes me ; 
yet, as she is a person of strict veracity, you may be- 
lieve it to have happened exactly as she told it.* 

This lady lived at Fulham at that time; and when 
she went, for the winter, to her house in London, 
which was situated near the Thames, she conveyed 


* This anecdote is related on the authority of Mrs. Powell of 
Tottenham. 


62 SAGACITY OF A SPARROW. 


the sparrow, having covered his cage, in the carriage. 
After some months, the window of the drawing-room 
was one day left open, and, as the bird was suffered 
to fly tame about the room, it took its flight, and was 
lost without hope of recovery. 

About ten days after this circumstance, she had 
occasion to send a servant to Fulham, who told the 
maid left there, of the unfortunate accident of losing 
the sparrow, and his mistress’s concern on the occasion. 
Upon which she observed, that for a day or two a 
sparrow had come constantly into the kitéffen, and, 
with unusual familiarity, had placed itself upon the 
chairs and dressers. It proved to be the sparrow that 
had escaped from London, and had been a week find- 
ing its way to Fulham; as it had taken flight in quite 
a contrary directior§ the window looking towards 
Northumberland Gardens. 

The same bird, the following spring, formed an at- 
tachment to a female of his own kind, and made a 
nest ; and, in order to gather materials for it, frequent- 
ly visited the house, for bits of rag or thread, which 
he carried away in his beak. Sometimes he brought 
his wife into the parlour, and once was accompanied 
by all his little ones; but they were soon alarmed, 
and flew away. When they were able to take care 
of themselves, he returned to his kind protectress, and 
lived in the room as before. This faithful creature 


QUESTION TO NATURALISTS. 63 


met with an unfortunate end, being accidentally crush- 
ed in a window-shutter. 

Can your friend Mr. Palmer tell me by what sense 
this bird was guided to the spot whence he was 
taken? It could not be sight, for he was conveyed 
from one place to the other in such a manner that 
he could not possibly trace his way. It is not likely 
that the sense of smelling could have retained an in- 
fluence for so many months. Nor can I devise any 
known quality with which birds are endowed, that 
can account for it. You see that, in imitation of you, 
I am becoming a naturalist ; and shall add to your 
store of curious anecdotes of animals, whenever I meet 
with any deserving your notice. 

You remember that my father is a great sportsman, 
and is generally accompanied in his shooting expedi- 
tions by Mr. Craven, a respectable farmer, who is 
one of his tenants. When they return from the ex- 
ploits of the day, they generally engross all the con- 
versation with relating their sanguinary achievements, 
or the hairbreadth escapes of the poor animals, who 
owed their preservation, probably, more to the bad 
aim of the marksman, than to the swiftness of their 
wing. My patience is often exhausted by being 
obliged to listen to subjects in which I feel so little 
interest, and which too often savour of cruelty ; for I 
can take no pleasure in the needless destruction of the 


64 DEFENSIVE PRECAUTIONS 


meanest creature that breathes. When we are at 
Woodlands, Mr. Craven is a frequent guest. Though 
his manners are not elegant, he is a man of observa- 
tion and good sense, and has availed himself of the 
advantages of a country life, to become acquainted 
with the habits of many animals that live wild around 
him, as well as those domesticated in his farm-yard ; 
and, as he has no reluctance to display his stock 
of knowledge, when admitted into our circle, I was 
so fortunate as to give a turn to the history of leaping 
over five-barred gates, and similar feats of dexterity, 
by inquiring the means used by the poor victims to 
elude the pursuit of their enemies. This question led 
to the modes of defence peculiar to different species of 
creatures, and the alarm they give to their companions 


at sight of their natural enemies. 

The appearance of a hawk excites a note expres- 
sive of fear in a hen turkey followed by her brood, 
which is learnt by the young ones, and afterwards 
applied by them to the same purpose. 

A rabbit apprized of danger, will convey the intel- 
ligence to her neighbours by thumping in her bur- 
row with her hinder feet. 

Rooks, whilst they feed, are guarded by a watch- 
man, who perches on one of the tallest trees near 
them, that he may perceive an enemy at a distance, 
and expresses alarm at the sight of a man with a gun. 


OF VARIOUS ANIMALS. 65 


Fieldfares come to this island from Norway, in 
winter, for the comforts of a milder climate, and the 
berries in our hedges: they associate in flocks, and, 
like other birds who live in society, have a guardian 
to watch over their safety. He is generally placed at 
the extremity of a bush, rising on his wings ; and, if 
alarmed, gives a peculiar and loud note of terror. 
The lapwing, after warning her young to conceal 
themselves, by a note intelligible to them, upon the 
approach of men or dogs towards her nest, appears 
more terrified than before, in order to deceive those 
she fears. 

Partridges are still more artful: they pretend to 
limp and scream before their pursuers, till they have 
withdrawn them from their young. 

In other instances, Nature has furnished animals 
with peculiar weapons of defence. The petrel, which 
is a bird remarkable for fat, has the singular capacity 
of squirting oil from its bill when it has no other 
means of annoying its enemy. 

The voluntary power of electrifying an enemy, is 
possessed by the gymnotus. electricus in a surprising 
degree, and is an irresistible defence against those 
whom it attacks. It is a native of the river Surinam, 
in South America, and is said to exceed twenty feet 
in length. It can kill a man, when irritated. The 
same faculty enables it to seize its prey, by first be- 

F 


66 ECHINUS, OR SEA-HEDGEHOG. 


numbing it, and then devouring it before it is recover- 
ed. Mr. Hunter has shown, that the organs produc- 
tive of this wonderful accumulation of electric matter 
are so divided by membranes as to compose a very 
extensive surface, and are supplied with many pairs of 
nerves, larger than any other nerves of the body. 

The torpedo enjoys a similar power in a less de- 
gree ; and some other fishes likewise. 

Here is a mode of defence of a very peculiar kind ; 
a proof, amongst many others, that Nature uses a va- 
riety of means to effect the same purpose. The echi- 
nus, or sea-hedgehog, is differently armed, with move- 
able spines, resembling those of the land animal of the 
same name. Some sea-fish are defended by the pro- 
tuberances on their shells, which serve them for a for- 
tification. The instincts of the echinus teach it to 
foresee tempestuous weather, and it is furnished with 
the means of resisting its effects. It fastens itself 
firmly to plants or other substances, at a great depth, 
by means of tendrils that resemble the horns of snails. 
Twelve hundred of these cords have been counted in 
one animal. When afloat, they are contracted be- 
tween the bases of their spines. 

The sea-blubber, or sea-nettle, would be a most 
defenceless animal, being little more than a lump of 
transparent jelly, and very slow in its motions, were 
it not for a caustic quality, that blisters the flesh of 


ANIMALS IN FALKLAND ISLANDS. 67 


those that touch it, and causes a painful degree of in- 
flammation. 

Fear is, no doubt, a great defence to those creatures 
that owe their safety to flight, though it seems that 
they often acquire a sense of danger from experience ; 
for M. Bougainville relates, that in the Falkland Is- 
lands, the fowls settled on the heads and shoulders of 
his people, and the quadrupeds ran about their feet. 
Such a scene would remind one of the Garden of Eden. 

I have now given you the chief points of informa- 
tion which I drew from my sporting acquaintance, who 
has wandered far beyond his own sphere; hoping to 
receive from you further hints on this amusing topic. 

The Misses Ormond, who, you may remember, 
were sometimes admitted into our parties when you 
were at Mr. Campbell’s, are come to pass the summer 
within a mile of Woodlands, in consequence of a large 
estate, with a title, coming unexpectedly to their 
father, through the accidental death of a very distant 
relation ; who, at the early age of twenty-four, was 
killed by a fall from his horse in a fox-chase. It is 
a pleasant walk to Belvoir Lodge, and I have called 
upon them frequently, hoping they would be agreea- 
ble companions in the retirement of the country ; but 
their former inclination to pride and airs of conse- 
quence is so much increased by this sudden eleva- 
tion, that I am sometimes inclined to relinquish them, 


68 PATIENCE COMPELS PRAISE. 


were it not that I have the vanity to hope I may 
lead them to a degree of improvement in their tastes 
and sentiments. The other day, Charlotte, with the 
most provoking coolness, inquired whether I knew what 
was become of you. I showed her our correspondence. 
She smiled, and said you were very romantic ; but 
though she pretended to feel contempt for the obscurity 
of your present mode of life, she could not deny some 
praise to the magnanimity you have shown in adver- 
sity. 

Continue, my dear girl, to instruct me by a recital 
of your occupations and amusements: you have 
already wrought a material change in the mind and 
sentiments of your affectionate friend, 


EMILy. 


ANECDOTE OF TWO GOATS. 69 


LETTER IX. 
FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


DEAR EMILY, 


Your anecdotes have amused us extremely, 
and led us to propose the subject of the modes of de- 
fence used by animals, as well as the weapons given 
them for that purpose, to Mr. Palmer for his next 
lecture; but, as he requires time to collect matter 
for our instruction on this curious topic, I shall dis- 
miss that for the present, and relate a remarkable 
instance of ingenuity, seeming to arise from reflec- 
tion in two goats, that happened lately near this 
place. 

On the crag of a high rock, overhanging the sea, 
are the ruins of an ancient castle, once the seat of 
feudal grandeur, but now serving only to heighten 
the romantic wildness of the prospect. One of the 
bastions remains nearly entire, along which, at a 
great height, runs a projecting ledge, perhaps a foot 
wide. A couple of goats, grazing about the ramparts, 
by some means got down upon the ledge, and one of 
them advancing till it arrived at an angle, was enabled 


70 INGENUITY OF GOATS. 


to turn; but, in its way back, met its companion, 
which produced a most perplexing dilemma, for it was 
impossible to pass each other. Rachel and I having 
wandered near these ruins, in order to gather some 
wild strawberries, which grow in the neighbouring 
woods, arrived at this critical moment, and were 
witnesses of their distress, without being able to assist 
them. The poor animals were sensible of their un- 
fortunate situation, and uttered the most doleful cries. 
After anxiously viewing them for some minutes, we 
ran to some cottages at a little distance, to see if it 
were possible to discover any means of extricating 
them. Men, women, and children, led by curiosity, 
followed us to the spot ; but they could only sympa- 
thize with the poor animals, without daring to attempt 
their relief, lest they should be precipitated on the 
rocks beneath. Many plans were proposed, but all 
ineffectual. After a considerable time, when hope 
had almost given place to despair, one of the goats 
was observed to kneel down with great caution, and 
crouch as close as it could lie; which was no sooner 
done, than the other, with great dexterity, walked 
over him, and they both returned the way they came, 
in perfect safety.* 


* This circumstance actually happened on the ramparts of 
Plymouth Citadel, and is attested by Captain Martin. 


HARMONY OF INSTINCTS AND HABITS. 71 


Did not this look like a concerted scheme between 
these two goats to get free from the terrible appre- 
hension of starving on this precipice? You may be- 
lieve, that a general joy was felt at the success of 
their stratagem, and no small surprise at the contriv- 
ance. ‘To you, who have probably never seen a goat 
but in a tame, domestic state, the story may seem 
improbable ; but it would more easily gain credit from 
an inhabitant of these mountainous regions, who must 
often have observed the wild goats climb with. rapi- 
dity and elegant ease to the highest pinnacle of the 
most rugged rocks; and when they have attained to 
a height that seems adapted only to be the resting- 
place of the towering eagle, frisk about as carelessly 
as a wanton child would do on a grass-plat, and then 
look down without fear upon the vales below. 

No animal more strikingly demonstrates the har- 
mony that prevails between the instincts and inclina- 
tions of the inferior classes of creation, and the places 
destined for their abode, than the goat. Nature has 
formed it to inhabit wild and uncultivated regions, 
where nothing grows but a few alpine mosses and 
lichens, a little wild thyme, or scattered blades of 
mountain grass: but thesé are the very food the goat 
delights to regale upon. 

There is another coincidence that is too remarkable 
to be ascribed to chance: their hoofs are calculated 


72 TRACTABILITY OF GOATS. 


exactly to secure them on the brink of the steepest 
precipices ; they are hollow underneath, with sharp 
edges, like the inside of a spoon, which prevents them 
from sliding off the rocky eminences they frequent. 
A foot that is so nicely adapted to the purpose re- 
quired, by an animal whose native character leads it 
to climb amongst rocks and declivities, would have 
been useless or inconvenient to a creature which 
grazed on a level. Its disposition, also, accords with 
the suppleness of its limbs and the agility of its 
motions: always restless and active, it walks, stops 
short, runs, skips, jumps, advances, retreats, exposes 
itself to view, then hides itself behind a thicket, or 
flies out of sight; and all without any apparent 
motive but the pleasure of changing from one pas- 
ture to another. But with so much caprice, they 
seem to have a tenderness that is amiable; they 
soon become tame, and will feed out of the hand of 
those to whom they are attached. Buffon says 
they will easily suffer themselves to be sucked, even 
by young children: hence, the fables of heroes nou- 
rished by a goat. He adds, that adders, and that 
strange-looking bird, the goat-sucker, fasten to their 
teats during the night, and deprive them of their 
milk. 

They are very numerous in this country. Mrs. 
Saville often makes cheese of goats’ milk; and the 


THEIR FLESH. 73 


flesh of the kid is thought preferable to lamb, 
The haunches are frequently salted, and used in- 
stead of bacon. But I cannot say that I admire 
the flesh of the old ones, as it has a strong, peculiar 
taste. 

Do not suppose that I lead the life of a recluse : 
though at so great a distance from the metropolis, 
we have our festivities. If they are of a different 
kind from balls and masquerades, they are, at least, 
full as innocent, and sometimes leave a tranquillity 
and satisfaction on the mind that can only be pro- 
cured from those pleasures that consist more in 
making others happy than in present  self-gratifica- 
tion. Mrs. Saville, whose principal study is to do 
good, promotes the welfare and establishment in life 
of those girls who have been brought up in her 
school, after they have left it. If they form a ma- 
trimonial connexion that meets her approbation, she 
either gives them a wedding dinner, or supplies 
them with some useful article towards house-keep- 
ing, according to the circumstances of the party. 
You will, perhaps, think this liberality very incon- 
sistent with the narrow fortune to which I former- 
ly told you she was limited ; but, by denying her- 
self every superfluous indulgence, she has always 
something to spare for the wants of others, which 
she loves to relieve in that delicate manner that 


74 A WEDDING. 


consults their feelings as well as their necessi- 
ties. 

Last week a young woman, who, from the ex- 
cellence of her conduct, had been one of her favourite 
scholars, gave her hand to the son of a small farmer 
in the neighbourhood. As his relations were nume- 
rous, and it is customary to invite every branch 
of the family, and all intimate acquaintance, to 
assist at the joyful solemnity, it was decided that 
the feast should be celebrated at the house of the 
new-married couple, and that Mrs. Saville should 
only furnish the materials for the dinner, and ho- 
nour the company for an hour or two with her 
presence, attended by myself and Rachel, who per- 
formed the office of bridemaids. Mr. Palmer united 
the happy pair in the holy bands of wedlock ; 
and we paid a visit to the bride, as soon as we 
thought she had had time to put her domestic affairs 
in order, and had the satisfaction to see the good 
effects of Mrs. Saville’s instructions. We found her 
busily employed with her spinning-wheel at the 
door, and every part of her dress perfectly neat, 
though free from any attempt at finery. She ap- 
peared much pleased with this mark of notice ; and, 
with a sort of conscious pride, showed us every 
corner of her house, which might serve as a pat- 


VISITS TO POOR NEIGHBOURS. ao 


tern for others in the same station. Though hum- 
bly furnished, every thing was in its place: even 
the clothes in her drawers were arranged in the neat- 
est manner. Mrs. Saville frequently makes a round 
of such calls amongst her poor neighbours, that she 
‘may know who best deserves her bounty, and in 
what manner she can most properly relieve their 
wants. On these occasions, she gives her advice 
where she sees it necessary; but so kindly does she 
mix encouragement with reproof, that she renders 
even this welcome. ‘These visits are considered as 
proofs of her favour, and every one is eager to obtain 
them. If she passes a cottage door, the owner is 
certain of having incurred her displeasure; and so 
sincerely is she beloved, that few are happy till they 
have regained her esteem. In all times of difficulty, 
they apply to her for counsel and help: you would be 
much pleased to see with what condescension and 
sympathy she listens to their complaints, soothes their 
sorrows, and leads them, with a gentle hand, from 
error to the right way. 

Though rigidly exact in her own conduct, she is 
always ready to soften the faults of others; for she 
often says, had she been exposed to the same temp- 
tations, with so few advantages, she might have been 
guilty of the same: and so far from assuming to her- 


76 VIRTUE EXCITES EMULATION. 


self any praise, she frequently remarks, that much of 
the applause the best receive, is because their per- 
verse inclinations are not seen. 

Can I live with such a woman, and not endeavour, 
at a humble distance, to imitate her virtues? My 
misfortunes, as they appear in the eye of the world, 
have been the greatest blessing that has been bestow- 
ed on your happy 

CAROLINE. 


BATS. rit 4 


LETTER X. 


FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 


MY DEAR EMILY, 


Mr. PaLMER came in this morning after break- 
fast, to tell us of a remarkable circumstance that had 
happened in a large room belonging to the parsonage- 
house, which is an ancient building.* A very unplea- 
sant smell had been observed for some time in this 
apartment, for which it was not easy to account, when, 
having occasion to employ a carpenter to make a small 
opening in the wainscot, in order to repair it, out flew 
such multitudes of bats as really darkened the place ; 
according to Mr. Palmer’s belief, not less than two 
hundred. It appears that they had crept in, through 
a small crevice between the bricks, on the outside of 
the wall, and so concealed themselves in the cavity 
between the wall and the wainscot. How long they 
had been there is uncertain ; but long enough to bring 
forth and half rear their young, who flew after their 
parents with that fond attachment that is so striking 
amongst the various tribes of animals. Some of them, 


* A circumstance, in all respects similar, happened, a few 
years ago, in a very old house at Tottenham High Cross. 


78 STRUCTURE OF THE BAT. 


which were in the act of sucking when they were 
alarmed, clung to their mothers’ breasts without let- 
ting go their hold.* The windows being open, many 
escaped ; but a great number were buffeted to death 
by the servants, who were collected together by the 
cries of astonishment uttered by the carpenter, who 
was really terrified at such an unusual concourse of 
living creatures, that proceeded, as if by enchantment, 
from the wall. 

Mr. Palmer brought one of those that had been 
killed, in his pocket, that we might examine the pecu- 
liarities of its structure; especially its wings, which 
consist of an extremely thin, light, delicate mem- 
brane, that extends from one shoulder entirely round 
the body to the other, and connects the fore and hind 
legs together. From the delicacy of its texture, and 
its flexibility, the creature can fold this membrane 
into a very small compass when it inclines to rest ; 
but when its wants impel it to take flight, it has, 
likewise, the power of stretching it out like a sail, to 
a considerable extent. From the skeleton of this wing, 
when divested of its covering, it plainly appeared that 
the principal bones resemble so many very long fingers ; 
the fifth, which is much shorter than the rest, may 


* I do not vouch that this was observed amongst the bats 
discovered at Tottenham ; but Mr. Bingley mentions it as a habit 
of the race.—See British Quadrupeds, pp. 33, 48. 


ITS HABITS. 79 


properly be called the thumb, and being armed at the 
end with a sharp and hooked claw, enables the bat to 
adhere closely to walls, the clefts of rocks, and such 
like places, where they remain in a torpid state during 
the winter, hanging by their claws with their heads 
downwards, and their wings wrapped round them, 
probably for warmth. 

Mr. Palmer, perceiving that we were desirous of 
knowing more of the habits of these curious animals, 
which partake so largely ‘of the nature of both birds 
and beasts, related some experiments that had been 
made with them. A gentleman* kept one of them 
for the purpose of examining it more particularly. 
He offered it a common house-fly when it was asleep, 
and, in order to rouse it, touched its nose with the fly. 
The bat, sensible that its prey was at hand, made a kind 
of smack with its mouth, then threw itself suddenly 
forward by his hind feet, and immediately devoured the 
insect. A large blue flesh-fly was afterwards present- 
ed to it, and was received in the same manner as the 
former one; but this fly was so large, that the bat 
was obliged to have recourse to contrivance, to get it 
into its mouth. He raised himself somewhat higher 
than usual on his fore legs; bent his head, with great 
dexterity, under his belly, and forced the fly into his 
mouth, by thrusting it from side to side against that 


* Mr. Bingley. 


89 SENSIBILITY OF THE BAT’S WING. 


part of the membrane which extended between the two 
hind legs ; by which artful means he gained his point, 
and swallowed his prey without further difficulty. 

Spallanzani, a naturalist of great eminence, disco- 
vered that bats, when perfectly blinded, and after- 
wards set at liberty, had the extraordinary faculty of 
guiding themselves through the most complicated 
windings of subterraneous passages without striking 
against the walls; and that they avoided, with great 
nicety, cords, branches of trees, and other obstacles, 
placed, by design, in their way. He was so much at 
a loss to conjecture how this was effected, that he at- 
tributed it to some unknown sense bestowed upon this 
creature for its security. But Mr. Palmer very inge- 
niously attributes it to an extreme delicacy of feeling 
in the wing, which presents to the air an enormous 
surface in proportion to the size of the animal, and is 
covered with an exquisitely fine net-work of nerves. 
He therefore supposes that, in the action of flight, the 
air, when struck by this wing, so well adapted to its 
office, impresses a sensation of heat, cold, or resistance, 
which directs the bat to avoid any object that would 
obstruct its flight ; just as you may have seen a blind 
person perceive a door, or a wall, by the difference of 
the resistance of the air, without the assistance of 
touch.* 


* See Bingley’s British. Quadrupeds, p. 35. 


TORPIDITY OF THE BAT. 81 


It is a remarkable propensity of various kinds of 
animals to fall asleep in winter, and to remain in a 
state of torpidity till the spring returns ; insensible to 
pleasure or pain, and preserving their existence with- 
out the refreshment of food, partly from not exhaust- 
ing themselves by action. Mr. Palmer’s reply to my 
inquiries on this interesting subject so well deserves 
your attention, that I shall repeat it.—‘‘ The wise 
provision of the Creator, for the comfort of every race 
of creatures, is so admirably adapted to their wants, 
and so convincing a proof of his providence, that I am 
happy,” said he, ‘‘ to seize every opportunity of dis- 
playing it to you, my young friends, in its proper 
point of view. The torpidity of the bat leads me to 
say, that the same contrivance prevails, not only 
amongst many other animals, but is extended also to 
vegetables. Your own observation must have shown 
you, that in all those that survive the winter, there 
is a living principle that resists the strongest frosts ; 
the effect of these only occasioning disease in them, or, 
if I may apply the term, putting them asleep. Our 
native trees lose their leaves in winter, whilst their 
stems remain uninjured. Many of our herbaceous 
plants lose their stalks, though their roots retain their 
functions. There are plants still more robust, which, 
after their roots have been frozen in the ground, the 
frost having penetrated several feet beneath their ra- 

G 


82 ANALOGOUS CASES OF 


mifications, revive, notwithstanding, at the return of 
spring. May not this stagnation of the operations of 
the fluids of these plants be justly compared with the 
dormant state of the torpid animals, to which we will 
now turn our attention? We see,” continued he, 
“the ant fall asleep in a very slight degree of cold ; 
and the common fly does the same, with every ap- 
pearance of being dead. Nor are these, by numbers, 
the only insects subject to this lethargic sleep. Qua- 
drupeds have frequently the same propensity. In 
dormice, marmots, and many other sleepers, life ap- 
pears to be suspended when cold weather approaches. 
This suspension of the vital powers is so complete in 
some of the species, that their heart ceases to beat for 
whole months. The snail and the toad undergo the 
same stupefaction. Several serpents exhibit a pheno- 
menon still more surprising: they can bear to be 
frozen to so great a degree as to become brittle, and 
die if they happen to be broken in this state; but if 
they be left unmolested in their holes, into which the 
warmth of spring penetrates very gradually, they 
revive, and give proof that they were not dead. Is it 
not a striking mark of creative wisdom, that, in all 
these tribes, this change takes place in the season 
when their food begins to fail—when the fruit and 
herbs on which they feed disappear? After having 
prepared them by an increase of fat, occasioned by the 


VITALITY SUSPENDED IN WINTER. 83 


temporary abundance of summer, and in this fat sup- 
plied them with a narcotic to incline them to sleep, as 
well as food to support them while it lasts; and that 
at the same time that these little devourers are laid 
asleep, and, from their concealment in their hiding- 
places, they cease to afford prey to the larger devour- 
ers, whom they serve for food, these, in their turn, also 
lose thought and motion. Those that would be de- 
prived of food, by the snow covering that which they 
feed upon, sleep till the snow melts, and a little long- 
er. Perhaps, for a similar reason, the white bear, 
which lives by fishing on the sea-shore during the 
summer, and on the islands of ice in autumn, does not 
fall asleep till the ice, united, thickened, and raised too 
high above the water, is no longer the resort of the 
seal. As the means of subsistence continues longer, 
a much severer degree of cold is requisite to deaden, in 
this animal, the appetite for seeking it, than in the 
black bear, which is a great devourer of honey and 
vegetables. Still less cold can the brown bear endure, 
which lives on animals that winter drives early into 
their retreats. 

“‘ This exact correspondence between the inclination 
to eat, and a supply of food, cannot be attributed to 
blind chance or accident, but to the arrangement of an 
All-wise Intelligence, that has fitted all the parts of 
the universe to each other ; and, in the races of ani- 


84 WISDOM OF THE CREATOR. 


mals now under our notice, has ordered that hunger 
should cease when famine would take place, as a 
means of prolonging their existence, and preserving 
them from starving.” 
The dinner-bell rings. 
Believe me, 
Your sincerely attached 
CAROLINE. 


SHEPHERD'S DOG. 85 


LETTER XI. 


MY DEAR FRIEND, 


WueEn I was in Scotland last year, an anec- 
dote I heard of a drover’s dog so fixed my attention, 
that I was induced to take some pains to authenticate 
it; and, in doing so, acquired so much fresh informa- 
tion, and so many surprising details of the shepherd 
dogs in that country, that the whole species have risen 
considerably in my estimation, and I have imbibed a 
respect for their superior powers that man himself 
does not always excite. Among the mass of anecdotes I 
collected, I will select such as will most illustrate our 
subject. I must begin by remarking that there are 
no species of animals so varied in their nature and 
propensities as the shepherd’s dog; and these propensi- 
ties are preserved inviolate in the same breed from 
generation to generation. Some kinds will manage 
sheep close at hand admirably; others excel in gather- 
ing sheep from the hills—will turn them this way, and 
that, as far as they are commanded, or can see the 
motion of their master’s hand or hear his voice. The 
good qualities of some consist in the perfection of their 


8&6 FEAT OF A SHEEP=DOG. 


social intercourse. A very singular feat is related* of a 
dog belonging to John Graham, late tenant in Ashes- 
teel. A neighbour came to his house after it was 
dark, and told him he had lost a sheep on his farm ; 
and that, if not recovered before the morning, the case 
would be hopeless. The night was pitch-dark, which 
was the cause of the man’s losing his ewe. John 
went with him, accompanied by his dog Chieftain; and 
having made the man point out the very track that 
the sheep had taken, he called the dog to his foot, and 
pointing with his finger to the ground, said, “Fetch that, 
I say, sir ; bring that back—away.” The dog scented 
slowly about on the ground for some seconds, but soon 
began to mend his pace, and vanished in the darkness. 
“Bring her back—away, you great calf,” vociferated 
John with a voice of exultation as the dog broke to the 
hill; and as all the best dogs perform their work in 
silence, nothing more was seen or heard for a long time. 
While the men were waiting, the conversation turned 
on the small chance there was that the dog would 
find the ewe, for it was agreed that she must long ago 
have mixed with the rest of the sheep on the farm. How 
that was, no man will ever be able to decide. At the 
end of about half an hour, the trusty animal brought 
the identical lost sheep to the expecting party ; which 


* Hoge’s Shepherd’s Calendar, p. 297 ; from which most-— 
indeed all the following singular anecdotes are taken. 


ANECDOTE OF MR. HOGG’S DOG. 87 


the man took on his back, and went his way rejoicing. 
John called him by all the ill names he could think 
of ; which the dog seemed to take in very good part. 
Such language seemed to be his flattery to his dog. 
Mr. Hogg relates of his own dog, Sirrah, feats yet 
more astonishing. I will give it you in his own 
words, or otherwise the narrative would lose much of 
its native energy and grace.* ‘I was sent toa place 
in Tweeddale called Stanhope, to bring home a wild 
ewe that had strayed from home. The place lay at a 
distance of fifteen miles, and my way to it was over 
steep hills, and athwart deep glens; there was no 
path, and neither Sirrah nor I had ever travelled the 
road before. When I left the people of the house, Mr. 
Tweedie, the farmer, said to me, ‘ Do you really 
suppose that you will drive that sheep over these hills, 
and out through the midst of all the sheep in the 
country?’ JI said I would try to do it. ‘Then let me 
tell you,’ said he, ‘ that you may as well try to 
travel to yon sun.’ Our way, as I said, lay all over 
wild hills, and through the middle of flocks of sheep : 
I seldom got sight of the ewe, for she was sometimes 
a mile before me, sometimes two: but Sirrah kept her 
in command the whole way; never suffered her to 
mix with the other sheep, nor, as far as I could judge, 
ever to deviate twenty yards from the track by which 


* Shepherd’s Calendar, p. 302. 


88 MR. HOGG’S DOG. 


he and I went the day before. When we came over 
the great height towards Manor Water, Sirrah and his 
charge happened to cross it a little before me: our way 
lying down steep hills, I lost all traces of them, but still 
held on my track. I came to two shepherds’ houses, 
and asked if they had seen anything of a black dog, 
with a branded face and long tail, driving a sheep ? 
No, they had seen no such thing; and besides, all 
their sheep both above and below the houses seemed 
to be unmoved. I had nothing for it but to hold on 
my way homeward ; and at length, on the corner of a 
hill at the side of the water, I discovered my trusty 
coal-black friend sitting with his eye fixed intently on 
the burn below him, and sometimes giving a casual 
glance behind to see if I was coming: he had the ewe 
standing there, safe and unhurt. When I got her 
home, and set her at liberty among our own sheep, he 
took it highly amiss. I could scarcely prevail with 
him to let her go; and so dreadfully affronted was he 
that she should have been let go free after all his toil 
and trouble, that he would not come near me all the 
way to the house, nor yet taste any supper when we 
got there. I believe he wanted me to take her home 
and kill her. He had one very laughable peculiarity, 
which often created no little disturbance about the 
house: it was an outrageous ear for music. He never 
heard music but he drew towards it; and he never 


GREAT UTILITY OF SHEEP-DOGS. 89 


drew towards it, but he joined in it with all his vigour. 
It was customary with the worthy old farmer with 
whom I resided, to perform family worship evening 
and morning; and before he began, it was always 
necessary to drive Sirrah to the fields and close the 
door. If this was at any time forgotten or neglected, 
the moment that the psalm was raised, he joined with 
all his zeal, and at such a rate that he drowned the 
voices of the family before three lines could be sung.” 

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; and it 
is a fact that, without this docile animal, the pastoral 
life would be a mere blank : without the shepherd’s dog, 
the whole of the mountainous land in Scotland would 
not be worth sixpence. He may be classed with the 
camel and the reindeer, who, in their respective 
countries, may be said to be the chief riches and sup- 
port of the inhabitants. 

The multitude of surprising stories, that are well 
authenticated, of these intelligent animals, would fill 
volumes, particularly of their attachment to their 
masters. Rachel has a pretty little spaniel, that, had 
he the faculty of speech, would have a better title 
to the appellation of a rational being than some that 
walk on two legs. He is accustomed to lie and in- 
dulge himself on the lawn behind the house; but the 


90 SAGACITY OF DOGS. 


other morning, as he was going to recline on his 
favourite spot, he perceived that a heavy dew had 
wet the grass, and he ventured to the hall, took the 
mat in his teeth, placed it on the lawn, and then 
composedly lay down on it. 

Such instances of sagacity clearly prove, to my 
mind, that some animals are endued with a capacity 
that enables them to observe, and to act from reflee- 
tion: whether it is called reason or instinct is imma- 
terial ; the facts are the same, and are incontroverti- 
ble. . It is evident that there are gradations of the in- 
tellectual powers ; and, consequently, that some spe- 
cies of creatures are far more intelligent than others. 
Dogs seem highly favoured in this respect, and to 
possess more sense than most of their fellow-brutes ; 
but, as they live on such a very familiar footing with 
man, J think it probable that they owe part of their 
superiority to that circumstance. In the qualities of 
the heart they must be allowed to excel; for what 
creature is so docile, so faithful, so affectionate, or so 
generous as the dog? He does not show his attach- 
ment merely by following his master and protecting 
his property, but will sacrifice his own life to defend 
him when attacked. His powers of discrimination 
are very great ; for the same dog that is gentle, tract- 
able, and playful with the family to which he be- 
longs, becomes, on the approach of a stranger, particu- 


CANINE FIDELITY. 91 


larly if he is shabbily dressed, bold, courageous, and 
implacable. No bribe can seduce him from the duty 
he owes to his benefactor. Our favourite poet, Gay, 
extols his fidelity, in the character of the shepherd, 
who, with great simplicity, acknowledges that he has 
learned many moral virtues from those creatures that 
are called irrational. He says: 


«« My dog, the trustiest of his kind, 
With gratitude inflames my mind: 
I mark his true, his faithful way, 
And in my service copy Tray.” 


To what innumerable purposes are the capacities of 
this useful race applied! Their instincts enable them 
to hunt and catch our game, evenin the water. They 
guard our flocks and herds with amazing dexterity. 
In our rambles, we have frequent opportunities of ob- 
serving the qualities of the shepherd’s dog. Vast 
flocks of sheep are fed upon the mountains in this 
country, and the shepherd receives more assistance 
from one of these dogs than half a dozen boys could 
give him. It is really curious to see with what ex- 
pedition he obeys his master’s commands: he watches 
his eye, and is gone to execute his commission at a 
word, whether it is to drive the flock with regularity 
to their pasture, or to conduct them home at night ; 
and, though other flocks are browsing on the same 
pastures, he prevents any stranger from intermixing 


92 DISCRIMINATION OF DOGS. 


with those under his care. I have seen a shepherd 
point out to his dog a straggling sheep on a height 
more than a mile distant. At the well-known signal, 
the dog went off at full speed, and soon returned 
with the runaway to the flock. They acquire this 
command over the sheep merely by their voice, for 
they are trained too well to their business to injure 
their fleecy charge with their teeth. 

Dogs that attend drovers have the same qualities. 
They distinguish accurately the cattle or sheep that 
belong to the several droves that follow one another ; 
and will neither suffer one of another flock to enter 
theirs, nor one of those they guard to escape. 

I need not point out their use in protecting our 
houses and property from thieves; but one of their 
valuable properties I must mention, before I conclude 
their eulogium. I mean that of conducting the blind. 
How many unfortunate wretches, deprived of sight, 
friendless and poor, are led from door to door, to solicit 
a small pittance from the hand of charity, by a faith- 
ful dog, who conducts them with as much care, and 
probably more certainty, than one of their own species ! 

I shall finish this long letter by an instance of sa- 
gacity and contrivance, in a terrier belonging to Mr. 
Palmer, that is really surprising. This dog is ex- 
tremely attached to the horse that draws his master’s 
chaise; and the moment he sees the servant take out 


ANECDOTE OF A TERRIER. 93 


the harness, he barks and jumps about for joy. He 
had been long permitted to accompany the horse when- 
ever they went abroad ; but, having become disagree- 
ably clamorous and troublesome at setting off, Mr. 
Palmer had given orders that Trim should be beaten 
and prevented from attending them. The dog was 
much hurt at this treatment, and, after two or three 
beatings, disappeared at the moment of setting out, 
though he had been seen in the yard just before. 
They are in the very frequent habit of calling at Mrs. 
Saville’s before they proceed to any distance. Trim, 
determined to avoid the discipline, and yet to enjoy 
the excursion, came to our cottage, in full expectation 
that his master would presently follow ; but, as he 
was disappointed, he staid quietly till the next day, 
and then retumed home. A few days after, Mr. 
Palmer set out for another ride. Trim took a differ- 
ent means to compass his purpose: he left the yard, 
as before, sooner than the chaise ; but, instead of pro- 
ceeding to Mrs. Saville’s house, he lay at the corner of 
a lane, which he knew his master must pass to get 
into the high road. The fidelity of Trim, and the 
ingenuity of his contrivance, have rendered him a great 
favourite ; and, notwithstanding his noisy joy, he is 
permitted to attend the chaise, which he never fails to 
do with marks of the highest satisfaction. 

Can you forgive me for troubling you with such 


94 FRIENDLY APOLOGY. 


trifles ?—but the uniform tranquillity of our lives does 
not afford sufficient variety to supply me with anec- 
dotes of a more amusing kind. You must accept my 
endeavours to please, however deficient I am, and be- 
lieve me, 
With sincere attachment, 
Ever yours, 
CAROLINE. 


INGENUITY OF TWO GOATS. 95 


LETTER XII. 
FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


MY DEAR CAROLINE, 


THE story of your goats proves, beyond doubt, 
that some animals are capable of reflection ; and its 
probability is confirmed by a similar instance of con- 
trivance in two of the same species, in a different part 
of the world. At Ardinglass, in Red Bay, near Glen- 
arm, in Ireland, two goats happened to be moving to- 
wards each other, over a deadful precipice, on a path 
so narrow that it was impossible for them to pass each 
other, and still less practicable for either to tun round : 
the least attempt to effect the one or the other of these 
movements would have precipitated them from the 
rock, which is there four hundred feet perpendicular. 
In this dilemma, they looked at each other with great 
seriousness for a length of time, as if they were deli- 
berating how to extricate themselves from the diffi- 
culty ; which at length they contrived to do, by one 
of them lying down prostrate, whilst the other walked 
over his body, each afterwards pursuing his own course 
with perfect composure.* 


* Mr. George Black, brother to the celebrated chemist of 
Edinburgh, was an eye-witness of this fact. 


96 FIDELITY OF A SPANIEL. 


The faithful attachment of dogs to their masters 
has been too often recorded to require confirmation 
from any new example; yet I cannot deny myself 
the pleasure of relating an affecting instance of canine 
friendship, that happened in France during the an- 
archy of the reign of terror. 

A few days before the overthrow of Réieapiene a 


revolutionary tribunal had condemned Mons. R 
an ancient magistrate and a most estimable man, on 
the pretence that he had been guilty of conspiracy. 
Mons. R 


years old, which had been brought up by him, and 


had a spaniel, at that time about twelve 


had scarcely ever quitted his side. He was thrown 
into prison. His faithful dog was with him when he 
was seized, but was not suffered to accompany him 
into confinement. The dog took refuge with a neigh- 
bour of his master’s, and every day, at the same hour, 
returned to the door of the prison. Such unwearied 
fidelity at length excited the compassion even of the 
porter, and the dog was allowed to enter. The joy of 
the master and his dog was mutual. It was found 
difficult again to separate them ; and the gaoler, fear- 
ful (if the dog should be discovered there) that his 
governors might consider him as favouring a prisoner, 
was compelled to carry him out. The animal return- 
ed regularly every evening, and was as regularly ad- 
mitted. On the day appointed for receiving sentence, 


HIS DEATH FROM GRIEF. 97 


the dog, in spite of the guards, penetrated into the 
hall, and crouched between his master’s legs. At the 
execution he was also present, and was with difficulty 
forced from the body. For two nights and a day he 
remained on the grave. The friend of his master, 
who had before afforded him an asylum, unhappy at 
not seeing the dog as usual, and guessing to what place 
he had retired, stole forth by night, and finding him at 
the grave, caressed and brought him back. He tried 
every means that kindness could devise to induce him 
to eat; but in a short time the dog escaped, and re- 
gained his favourite place. For three months he came 
every morning to his protector, merely to. receive his 
food, and immediately returned to the grave. At the 
end of this time nature gave way: he languished, 
refused to take any nourishment, and died. What 
friendship could have been more pure, more constant, 
or more fervent? The hour of adversity did not dis- 
may him ; and though he could not fully comprehend 
the injuries offered to his master, he suspected that 
some harm was intended, and guarded him, as far as 
was possible, with the greatest vigilance. How deep, 
how lasting were his regrets! His attachment de- 
served a monument that should have perpetuated the 
memory of his master with the fidelity of the dog, 
bearing this inscription : 


‘¢ T loved thee even unto death.” 


98 "A MAN SAVED 


It seems very extraordinary that such an affection 
should subsist between creatures so different in their 
natures, their powers, and their inclinations ; between 
whom, one should suppose, there could be no sympa- 
thy or communication of ideas ; did we not daily see 
instances of this strong, marked attachment of the 
canine race to their masters, and, in different degrees, 
to every member of his family. May we not attri- 
bute this valuable property of the dog to the goodness 
of the Great Creator, who has so amply provided 
for the wants of man in every situation? How 
many have been saved from drowning, from thieves, 
and from other dangers, by the sagacity of their dogs! 
Some time ago I read a paragraph in the newspaper, 
of the preservation of a man by the means of his dog ; 
and although the names of the persons have escaped 
my memory, yet the circumstances were related in 
such an authentic manner, that I shall venture to re- 
peat them. 

A gentleman’s servant, in the neighbourhood of 
Windsor, went out with two horses and a dog, for the 
sake of exercise. After some hours, the horses came 
home without either the man or the dog. This caused 
great alarm to the family: other servants were des- 
patched different ways in quest of the poor fellow, 
who was supposed to have met with some unfortu- 
nate accident. After a very tedious search, the dog 


BY A DOGS SAGACITY. 99 


was seen standing in the midst of a turnip-field, with 
evident marks of distress and uneasiness. On seeing 
the servants approach, he advanced, and, by every 
possible sign, indicated his anxiety for them to follow. 
He led them in this manner into a lane, where, as 
they saw nothing, they attempted to return ; but the 
dog’s importunity was so great, that they determined to 
follow wherever he should lead. He conducted them 
to the side of a ditch, im which they found the groom 
in a state of insensibility, having received a fracture of 
the skull by a fall from the horse. A proper vehicle 
was procured, and the unfortunate man was conveyed 
to his master’s house, and placed in a comfortable bed. 
A surgeon was sent for, and the wound was dressed. 
During this operation, it was impossible to keep the 
dog out of the chamber. As soon as all was quiet, 
this faithful creature placed himself upon the bed ; 
and though the poor sufferer, in the violence of his 
delirium, often struck the dog, the animal seemed to 
understand that he was not in his right senses, for 
neither blows, nor the repulsive voice of his agonised 
master, could drive him from the post he had chosen. 
The man recovered, and, no doubt, ever after valued 
this affectionate creature, to whose attachment he 
owed his life. 

Of all the different kinds of dogs, the Newfoundland 
seems to possess the most sense, and the strongest 


100 NEWFOUNDLAND DOG. 


attachment. An extraordinary instance of both, 
Bewick, in his History of Quadrupeds, relates in the 
following words: “ During a severe storm, in the 
winter of the year 1789, a ship belonging to New- 
castle was lost near Yarmouth, and a Newfoundland 
dog alone escaped to shore, bringing in his mouth the 
captain’s pocket-book. He landed amidst a number 
of people, several of whom in vain endeavoured to 
take it from him. The sagacious animal, as if sensi- 
ble of the importance of the charge, which, in all pro- 
bability, was delivered to him by his perishing master, 
at length leaped fawningly against the breast of a 
man who had attracted his notice among the crowd, 
and delivered the book to him. The dog immediately 
returned to the place where he had landed, and watch- 
ed with great attention for every thing that came 
from the wrecked vessel, seizing hold of them, and 
endeavouring to bring them to land.” 

I dare say you know that the habits of this breed 
of dogs lead them to swim and dive; and it is most 
likely that in a state of nature their food is fish, for 
they are known to devour raw trout and other small 
fish. Providence has accordingly furnished them with 
web-feet, which serve them for paddles, and are not 
bestowed on any kind of dog but those that frequent 
the water. How exactly the habits and form of all 
creatures correspond with one another! Had you 


USES OF NATURAL HISTORY. 101 


not led my attention to the Book of Nature, I should 
have overlooked this, and many other beautiful proofs 
of design in the creation of the imhabitants of the 
world. , 

Farewell, my Caroline: continue to instruct with 
your amusing correspondence 

Your affectionate 
EiMILy. 


102 EULOGIUM ON LETTERS. 


LETTER XIII. 


FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


DEAR EMILY, 


‘* Blest be the gracious power who taught mankind 
To stamp a lasting image of the mind ! 
Beasts may convey, and tuneful birds may sing, 
Their mutual feelings in the opening spring ; 
But man alone has skill and power to send 
The heart’s warm dictates to the distant friend : 
‘Tis his alone to please, instruct, advise, 
Ages remote, and nations yet to rise.” 


In these sentiments of gratitude for the invention 
of letters, I cordially unite with Mr. Crabbe, the 
author of the lines I have borrowed for the expression 
of my own feelings upon the subject. What, indeed, 
would have been my distress, on my first retirement 
into Wales, if all intercourse with you, my dear 
Emily, had been impossible! But, by means of this 
delightful invention, wherever a post can reach, an 
exchange of sentiments may be enjoyed :—our joys, 
our sorrows, may be communicated to the friend of 


SUBMISSION TO THE DIVINE WILL. 103 


our hearts, though separated by hundreds of miles. 
Through this medium, you are become acquainted 
with my revered Mrs. Saville, and my beloved Ra- 
chel. You know their characters, you admire their 
excellences, and love them for their kindness to me, 
a stranger, under circumstances that too often de- 
prive us of the regard of old acquaintance, who are 
more attached to our fortunes and rank in society 
than to ourselves. The friendship of my good aunt 
and cousin is generally founded on esteem: towards 
me, at first, it was compassion, and that ardent 
desire of doing good, that is the principal spring 
of Mrs. Saville’s actions. By this time, I am vain 
enough to believe, that I have gained a higher 
place in their regard, by my sincere endeavours to 
conform to their inclinations, and, at a humble 
distance, to imitate their virtues. Cheerfulness is 
cultivated here as a duty: every thing that is 
morose, austere, and gloomy, is banished from this 
happy cottage. One of Mrs. Saville’s first maxims 
is, to be contented with that lot which Divine Wis- 
dom has chosen for us, and to silence all murmur- 
ings and regrets for the privation of those things 
that others possess, by remembering how much we 
enjoy that which multitudes have not. Gratitude, she 
thinks, is the most acceptable part of devotion ; and 
she is almost angry if she hears any one complain 


104 PLEASURES OF AN ACTIVE LIFE. 


of small inconveniences: She often tells us, that the 
secret of being happy is, to be satisfied with the pre- 
sent, and to leave the disposal of the future with 
full confidence to the Supreme Ruler of the universe : 
for over anxiety destroys the health, and inca- 
pacitates us for duties that require our immediate 
attention. Every day opens to her a new scene of 
activity and usefulness: of course, she is never teased 
with that languor of mind well known amongst 
fashionable loungers by the name of ennui. Her 
time is divided between acts of benevolence, the 
cultivation of her mind, and social pleasures. She 
has found a few select friends, even in this retired 
situation, that vary and enliven our enjoyments: 
amongst these, the Palmers are our greatest inti- 
mates. We seldom pass a week without spending 
an evening together; not in the formal style of visit- 
ing, but in that familiar way that gives full scope 
to conversation. At our last meeting, part of your 
letter was read aloud; and I am desired to return 
our general thanks for the amusement it afforded us. 
Every one of us was affected by the story of Mons. 
R , to whom the friendship of a dog must have 
been a consolation when all the world had abandon- 
ed him. ‘“ He must have been a very faithful crea- 
ture indeed,” said Laura Palmer, a most engaging 


little girl of ten years old, ‘and I should have 


EXPLOITS OF A ROMAN DOG. 105 


grieved when he died. Papa, if you will give me 
leave, I will repeat a sweet story of a dog, that I 
read this morning, in the book you lent me.” Mr. 
Palmer nodded approbation ; and Laura, with great 
diffidence, gave us the following account :—“ In dig- 
ging up the ruins of Pompeii and Herculaneum, 
which were overwhelmed by the lava thrown up in 
an eruption of Mount Vesuvius, the skeleton of a 
dog was found, stretched over that of a child ten or 
twelve years of age. It was conjectured, by those 
who superintended the workmen, that this dog, from 
his position, was attempting to save his young master 
at the moment of the dreadful catastrophe that de- 
stroyed the city. This opinion was confirmed by the 
discovery of a collar of curious workmanship, that is 
preserved in the gallery of the Grand Duke of Tus- 
cany, upon which was inscribed a history of this 
dog, in Greek. From the inscription, it appears 
that this dog, whose name was Delta, belonged to a 
man called Severinus, whose life he had saved on 
three different occasions: first, by dragging him out 
of the sea, when nearly drowned ; again, by driving 
off four robbers who attacked him unawares; and, 
the third time, by destroying a she-wolf, which was 
near tearing Severinus in pieces, on account of his 
having taken her cubs from her, in a grove sacred to 
Diana, near Herculaneum. After these exploits, 


106 CHARACTER OF THE CAT. 


Delta attached himself particularly to the only son 
of Severinus, followed him wherever he went, and 
would take no food but what he received from the 
hand of this child. The circumstances and the in- 
scription place the existence of the dog out of all 
doubt ; amounting to a proof that the faithful ani- 
mal would not forsake his young master, and, when 
he found it impossible to save him, like a servant of 
unshaken fidelity, shared his fate.” 

“‘ After all these fine stories of the generous na- 
ture of dogs,” said Mrs. Palmer, “ the inferiority of 
the cat must be allowed ; as her general character is 
artful, revengeful, cruel, rapacious, and ungrateful. 
Nature has endowed her with the qualities of a beast 
of prey, being formed to live upon animals weaker 
and more defenceless than herself. Yet, when do- 
mesticated, there have been some instances of saga- 
city and attachment in this creature, that may serve 
to diminish the stigma that is cast upon the species. 
Our countryman Mr. Pennant tells us, that a 
very remarkable incident befel Henry Wniothesly, 
Karl of Southampton, the friend and companion of 
the Earl of Essex in his fatal insurrection. After 
he had been confined in the Tower a short time, 
he was agreeably surprised by a visit from his 
favourite cat, which, according to tradition, having 
found her way thither, descended the chimney of 


ANECDOTE OF A CAT. 107 


his apartment, and seated herself by her master. 
He adds, that a picture, m the possession of the 
Duchess of Portland at Bulstrode, of this nobleman, in 
a black dress and cloak, with the faithful animal at 
his side, may be supposed either to confirm the fact, 
or to have given rise to such an extraordinary story. 
« A circumstance happened in my own neighbour- 
hood, a few years ago,” continued Mrs. Palmer, 
“the truth of which I cannot doubt, as it was 
related to me by a person who was a spectator of 
the occurrence.* The mistress of the house was sit- 
ting by the fire, when the cat came to her, and, look- 
ing up in her face, mewed most piteously. At first, 
being engaged, she paid no attention to it; but the 
cat was not to be discouraged by this neglect: she 
continued her cries, going towards the door, and re- 
turning to the lady, in the greatest agitation. These 
actions were so often repeated, and in such an im- 
pressive manner, that she felt curious to know the 
cause of such uneasiness; though she was reluctant 
to leave her seat, till the cat, extending her claws, 
pulled her by the apron. She could no longer resist 
the importunity of the distressed animal: she rose, 
and followed her conductor into a small wash-house, 
where some tubs, partly filled with water, were 
standing, into one of which a child nearly two years 


* On the authority of Mrs. Cobbold of Ipswich. 


108 CATS ATTACHED TO HOUSES. 


old, had fallen, and was in danger of drowning. This 
intelligent cat saved the child’s life, and in this 
instance showed a degree of attachment superior 
to that commonly observed in her kind. Yet, on the 
removal of the family, some time afterwards, she 
could not be retained in their new habitation, but, in 
spite of every precaution, returned to their former 
abode.” 

“ The attachment of cats to houses rather than 
persons,” replied Mrs. Saville, ‘is supposed to arise 
from their perfect knowledge of the outlets and pass- 
ages of the place where they have lived, as well as 
the holes in which the rats and mice have fixed their 
retreats. Now it is possible that the aversion they 
show to a change of situation may originate from a 
fear of want of food, from not knowing where to seek 
for their prey.” 

Thus our meetings pass in the most agreeable and 
profitable manner, instruction bemg mixed with our 
conversation ; and it seldom happens that we part 
without hearing some curious anecdotes, either re- 
lative to history, the characters of great men, the 
wonders of nature, or some other interesting subject. 
And when any thing is more extraordinary than 
usual, I insert it in a common-place book that I keep 
for the purpose. Looking over this book in the 


ENCRINITES. 109 


morning, I was struck with the following article, 
which I thought worth your perusal. Mr. Parkin- 
son, in his Organic Remains, makes a calculation of 
the number of pieces he found in a species of ani- 
mal fossil, of the family of encrinites, that is truly 
astonishing. “A careful examination,” says he, 
“ascertains the curious fact that, independently of 
the number of pieces which may be contained in the 
vertebral column, and which, from its probable great 
length, may be very numerous, the fossil skeleton of 
the superior part of this animal consists of at least 
twenty-six thousand pieces.’ They are disposed in 
the following manner : 


Of the bones forming the iss there 
are five central . . 

Five ribs . : . 
Five clavicles  . 
Five scapule . : ‘ 
Arms.—Six bones in each of the ten 

arms. 60 
Hanps.—Each Hand deine ned 

of two fingers, and each finger 

consisting of at least forty small 

bones, these, in twenty fingers, 

make . ° : : : 800 
Tentacula: thirty proceeding from 

each of the six bones, in each of 

the ten arms, make . ‘ 1,800 


Orn an 


Carried forward 2,680 


110 WORKS OF NATURE UNHEEDED. 


Brought forward 2,680 
Thirty proceeding, on the average, 
from each of the eight hundred 
bones of the fingers, make 24,000 


Total 26,680 


What wonderful art and mechanism does this crea- 
ture display! And though so complex in its con- 
struction, yet, when alive, every limb, every joint, 
and every bone, performed its part without disorder, 
or in any way interfering with each other: affording 
complete enjoyment to the creature, and enabling it 
to move in every direction which the functions of its 
nature required. 

The globe we inhabit abounds with objects both 
curious and surprising ; yet multitudes of people, and 
those of the better sort, live fifty or sixty years upon 
it without making the faintest attempt to become 
acquainted with them. Does this proceed from a 
want of taste, or a neglect in forming the mind early 
to observation? I rather think the latter; for surely 
none can see the beauties of creation and not admire 
them. Children brought up in crowded cities are to 
be pitied in this respect: they see scarcely any thing 
but the works of art, and they associate the ideas of 
beauty and value to the productions of the mechanic 
only. An insect is often an object of abhorrence to 


GOD'S WORKS FULL OF WISDOM. 111 


them, when, if they would examine it in its true point 
of view, it would teach this important lesson: That 
the most insignificant of the Creator’s works are full 
of wisdom and goodness. 

Mrs. Saville is preparing for a walk; Rachel is at 
my elbow, with my bonnet in her hand: so adieu, 
adieu, says your affectionate 


CAROLINE. 


EZ COUNTRY AND TOWN CONTRASTED. 


LETTER XIV. 


FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


DEAR CAROLINE, 


So far from pitying you for your banishment 
from London, and from all the luxunes of genteel 
life, [ am inclined to envy the delights you enjoy in 
your snug cottage; where you seem to possess all the 
solid comforts you can desire, with many intellectual 
pleasures that are seldom to be found amongst those 
who are continually on the search for something new 
to banish reflection and kill time. The society of 
Mrs. Saville and the amiable Rachel alone is a com- 
pensation for that of half your town acquaintance, 
whose highest subject of investigation is the most be- 
coming dishabille, or the most dazzling full dress. 
The Misses Ormond weary me with this topic: every 
time they have a fresh supply from their milliner or 
dress-maker, their coach is ordered, for the friendly 
purpose of exhibiting the latest fashions to my admir- 
ing eyes. But your example has checked my ardour 
for being the first in the mode, or giving in to every 
folly that is authorised by the multitude. My ap- 


FRIVOLITY AND INHUMANITY. 113 


plause, therefore, diminishes in value, and they already 
laugh at me, as being quite Gothic, because I will not 
become a slave to fashion. Our correspondence is 
also a subject of ridicule for them: they say we write 
about nothing but cats, dogs, and magpies, and that 
our letters could only amuse a man who shows wild 
beasts at a fair. They have no eyes for the beauties 
of nature, or the wonders displayed in the dispositions 
of the various tribes of animals. The only individual 
they notice, of the inferior orders of creation, is a de- 
licate French lap-dog, which they carry in their arms, 
and on which they bestow as much tenderness and 
attention as would bring up a child. This dog is 
washed and combed regularly, and fed upon the most 
delicate food, whilst the petition of an officer’s widow, 
with four children in a starving condition, was re- 
fused because they had nothing to spare; when, 
only a few days before, they had purchased this use- 
less creature for five guineas. But they are so 
wholly oceupied with themselves, with their rank and 
consequence, and the gratification of their vanity, 
that they have no place in their hearts for the plea- 
sures of sympathy with the unfortunate, or the ex~- 
quisite gratification of relieving their distress. They 
have a great desire to be accomplished, especially in 
music, because it is fashionable; but, except for that, 


they have neither taste nor application. And as for 
I 


114 LEARNED WOMEN AND SCIOLISTS. 


the cultivation of their understandings by a course 
of reading, it is forbidden by want of leisure and in- 
clination. Their readmg seldom extends beyond a 
popular novel. They openly avow that they do not 
think it necessary in order to make a figure in com- 
pany, and therefore it is a useless labour; “ For,” 
says Charlotte, “if a young lady can dress, dance, 
and play, there is no opportunity of inquiring whether 
she knows a great deal. Besides, the men do not 
choose learned wives, lest they should have more 
knowledge than themselves.” An elderly lady, who 
was sitting by when she made this remark, said, that 
men of sense were not afraid of women whose minds 
were enriched with the productions of the best au- 
thors ; but they very properly avoided the pedantic 
display of smatterers in learning, who assumed, upon 
very partial acquirements, a superiority to which 
they had no pretensions:—that she who outstepped 
the limits of that modesty which is the chief orna- 
ment of the sex, whether in exhibiting her know- 
ledge, or in the freedom of her manners, rendered her- 
self equally an object of disgust and ridicule :—that 
it was not ignorance, but humility, that was valued 
in young women; and that, whilst they kept their 
proper places, there was no danger of a well-fur- 
nished mind exciting the jealousy of the other sex. 

I was sorry her observations were interrupted by 


STORY OF A MONKEY. L1S 


the arrival of a cousin of Lord Ormond’s, who is 
lately returned from the East Indies. He brought 
with him many curiosities, as presents for the young 
ladies. - After the shawls, chintz, and taffeties had 
been opened and sufficiently admired, several birds 
and a monkey were introduced. The latter, his 
lordship did not choose to accept; because, he said, 
“he still bore the scar of a bite, given him, fifty years 
ago, by one of the tribe in a fit of revenge. “ The 
animal,” continued he, “ was of that species called 
montego: he was kept by a farmer, at a few miles’ 
distance from the village where I went to school. 
It was a holiday; and a party of us directed our 
walk to the farm, in order to amuse ourselves with 
the tricks and grimaces of this monkey, which, being 
the only one in that part of the country, was regard- 
ed as a great rarity, and often visited by the boys 
of our school. It was fortunate for me that he was 
confined by a strong chain to the shed which was 
built for his habitation, or he might have attacked 
my throat, and done me a more serious injury. All 
my companions had furnished their pockets with nuts, 
apples, and gingerbread, which they had provided for 
his refreshment ; a precaution that I alone had for- 
gotten. Being very unwilling to approach Jacquot 
with an empty hand, I offered him a cockle-shell 
that I had picked up on the sea-shore: he seized 


116 MALICE OF THE MONKEY. 


it greedily, and presently opening it with great 
adroitness, was much incensed to find nothing in the 
inside of it, perhaps supposing that I had imposed 
upon him. He instantly expressed his resentment 
by throwing it away with great indignation, and, by 
his whole behaviour, showing his contempt for the 
trick he thought I had put upon him. My com- 
panions continued playing with him for more than 
half an hour, whilst I and another amused ourselves 
about the farm-yard. At last we were summoned 
to prepare for our return, when each of us took leave 
of the monkey by shaking his fore paw: a civility he 
received very cordially till it came to my turn, when, 
recollecting the offence I had given him, he flew at 
me with the utmost rage, and left this mark in my 
hand, which I shall carry to my grave. Therefore, 
no monkeys, if you please, young ladies,” said the 
old gentleman in an angry tone. 

The girls looked vexed, but did not dare to reply ; 
for though they have a great ascendency over him by 
wheedling and coaxing, like other weak men, he is 
violent when opposed. 

The conversation took a general turn, and I was 
well entertained by many of the observations of the 
traveller, who has been long abroad: and perceiving 
that my attention was fixed upon the animals, and 
that I was desirous of knowing their habits and in- 


A NATURAL ILLUMINATION. 117 


stincts, he very politely indulged my curiosity with 
several particulars that he had seen in different parts 
of Asia. But nothing delighted me so much as the 
extraordinary contrivance of a certain species of spar- 
row,* found in Hindostan, which, in the night-time, 
lights up her nest with glow-worms ; and, after col- 
lecting them for this purpose, she fastens them to the 
inside of her nest, by means of a peculiar kind of 
clay, of a glutinous nature. What an elegant illumi- 
nation, could our minds be divested of the sufferings 
of the poor glow-worms, whose brilliancy subjects 
them to a painful death! They form an apt emblem 
of beauty, that so often misleads its possessor into 
error and folly. 

The subject is less pleasing, but the conduct of 
the creatures that are exposed to each other’s fury, 
in the combats of wild beasts, in the island of Java, 
at which this gentleman was present, marks their 
instincts for self-defence in a very strong point of 
view.t 

When a tiger and a buffalo are to fight for the 
amusement of the court, they are both brought upon 
the field of combat in large cages. The place is sur- 
rounded by a body of Javanese, four deep, with 
levelled pikes, in order that, if the creatures endea- 


* Asiatic Annual Register, 1802. 
+ Stavorinus’ Voyages to the East Indies. 


118 COMBAT OF 


vour to break through, they may be killed immedi- 
ately. This, however, is not so easily effected, but 
that many of these poor wretches are torn in pieces 
or dreadfully wounded by the enraged animals. 

When every thing is in readiness, the cage of the 
buffalo is first opened at the top, and his back is 
rubbed with the leaves of a certain plant, which have 
the singular quality of occasioning intolerable pain. 
The door of the cage is then set open, and the ani- 
mal leaps out, raging with agony, and roaring most 
dreadfully. The cage of the tiger is then likewise 
opened, and fire is thrown into it, to make the beast 
quit it ; which he generally does, running backwards 
out of it. The tiger no sooner perceives the buffalo, 
than he springs upon him: his huge opponent stands 
expecting him, with his horns upon the ground, in 
order to catch him upon them, and throw him in 
the air. If the buffalo succeeds in his design, and 
the tiger recovers from his fall, he generally loses 
every wish of renewing the combat; and if the tiger 
avoids this first attempt of the buffalo, he springs 
upon him, and seizing him in the neck, or other parts, 
tears his flesh from his bones. In most cases, how- 
ever, the strength of the buffalo overcomes the address 
and ferocity of the tiger. 

This gentleman has promised to pass a few weeks 
at Belvoir Castle, which will probably afford me op- 


A TIGER AND BUFFALO. 119 


portunities of collecting more anecdotes on our favour- 
ite topic, as he appears to be a minute observer of 
the wonders of nature. 
My letter is extended to so great a length, I can 
only add, that I am, with sincere attachment, 
Yours, 
EMILY. 


120 IRASCIBILITY OF THE CAMEL. 


LETTER XV. 
FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


MY DEAR EMILY, 


REVENGE is not confined to the monkey tribe : 
other animals are very susceptible of this odious pas- 
sion ; and as they are deficient in that reason which 
is given to us to restrain our evil propensities, they 
yield to the impulse of their feelings, without an 
attempt to subdue them. Sonnini, who visited Egypt, 
tells us that the camel, so distinguished for its patience 
and forbearance, is yet sensibly affected by injustice 
or ill-treatment. ‘‘ The Arabs,” says he, “ assert, 
that if a person has struck one without cause, he will 
not find it easy to escape its vengeance; and that 
they will retain the remembrance of it, till an oppor- 
tunity offers of gratifying their revenge. It is said, 
that in their fits of rage, they sometimes take up a 
man with their teeth, throw him on the ground, and 
trample him under their feet. Eager to revenge them- 
selves, they no longer retain any rancour when 
they are satisfied ; and it is even sufficient, if they be- 
lieve they have satiated their vengeance. ‘According- 
ly, when an Arab has excited the rage ofa camel, he 


MANAGEMENT OF THE DROMEDARY. lai 


lays down his garments in some place near which the 
animal will pass, and disposes them in such a man- 
ner that they appear to cover a man sleeping under 
them. The camel knows the clothes of him by whom 
he has been treated with injustice, seizes them in his 
teeth, shakes them with violence, and tramples on 
them in a rage. When his anger is appeased, he 
leaves them; and then the owner of the dress may 
make his appearance without fear, load and guide the 
animal, who submits, with amazing docility, to the 
will of a man whom, just before, he wished to de- 
stroy. 

“ T have sometimes seen,” says he, “ dromedaries, 
weary of the impatience of their riders, stop short, 
turn round their long necks to bite them, and utter 
eries of rage. In these circumstances, the rider 
must be careful not to alight, as he would infalli- 
bly be torn to pieces; he must also refrain from 
striking his beast, which would only increase his 
fury. Nothing can be done but to have patience, 
and appease the animal by patting him with the 
hand, which frequently requires some time, when he 
will resume his way and his pace of himself.” 

To | those who view the animal kingdom with an 
attentive eye, the correspondence of the structure of 
the different creatures, as well as the peculiar senses 
bestowed upon each, with their wants and the climates 


32 PECULIARITIES OF THE CAMEL. 


they inhabit, are no less convincing proofs than their 
instincts, of the Infinite Intelligence that has adapted 
them exactly to that place which they are appointed 
to fill in the ranks of creation. The camel is to the 
Arab, what the rem-deer is to the Laplander: it is 
his all—his treasure. These creatures supply food 
and clothing to their possessors, besides their wonderful 
powers of conveying their masters with great rapidity 
to a vast distance. The camel is formed to traverse 
extensive deserts of sand, where the thirsty traveller 
often perishes from want of water: it is accordingly 
provided with a peculiar resource against the calamity 
to which it is so frequently exposed. Besides the 
four stomachs which it has in common with other 
ruminating animals, it has a fifth bag, in which water 
is preserved without spoiling or mixing with the 
other aliments. When the camel is on a journey, 
and wants water to soften its food whilst ruminating, 
it has only to contract this bag by means of certain 
muscles, and as much water as is required passes 
into its stomach. In consequence of this peculiar 
formation, this valuable creature can take a prodigious 
quantity of water at one draught, and can sustain life 
for several days without drinking. They are, more- 
over, endowed with the extraordinary property of dis- 
covering water by their smell at half a league’s dis- 
tance ; and, after being some time deprived of it, will 


PROPERTIES OF THE REIN-DEER. 123 


hasten towards the spring, long before their riders per- 
ceive that any is at hand. 

We have already seen that the goat is furnished 
with a hollow foot, to prevent it from slipping off the 
precipices: the broad foot of the camel is equally well 
adapted for treading on a sandy level; nor can it 
make a firm step on moist or slippery ground, or climb 
with safety a steep ascent or a shelving declivity. 
Had the camel and the goat, (the one an inhabitant of 
the plain, the other of the mountains,) each remaining 
in other respects the same, exchanged feet, neither 
could have subsisted in their native climes. The pro- 
perties of the rein-deer are as opposite to those of the 
camel, as the frozen regions he inhabits are to the 
scorching deserts of Arabia. He can endure the ut- 
most extreme of cold, and his hunger is satisfied with 
a little moss, that his instincts teach him to seek with 
his hoofs under the snow. 

Can any one observe this harmony of nature, and 
not acknowledge the Divine Hand that has so nicely 
adapted the creature and its natural situation to each 
other? The whole earth teems with such correspon- 
dencies, had I but knowledge and leisure to display 
them. The rational mind cannot doubt that the in- 
_ numerable worlds that are dispersed in infinite space 
abound likewise in monuments of the same wisdom 
and goodness. 


124 STRUCTURE OF THE VIPER. 


An instance of this conformity of the structure of 
animals with the mode of life appointed for them 
occurred to us last night, as we were drinking tea at 
Mr. Palmer’s. A boy having discovered the haunt of 
a viper near the garden hedge, Mr. Palmer hastened 
to the spot, destroyed the dangerous intruder, and 
afterwards brought it into the parlour, in order to show 
us the curious formation of the jaws and gullet, so 
admirably adapted for swallowing food much thicker 
than the usual size of the creature’s body. In order 
to accomplish this purpose, the head of this creature 
is broad and flat, having a wide mouth, of very uncom- 
mon and disproportionate size, which allows the jaws 
to gape to a great extent. But this opening, capaci- 
ous as it is, would not be capable of receiving the 
viper’s prey, had not its capacity of enlargement been 
still further increased by the following nice contrivance. 
The jaws are not united together at the bottom, as in 
the human mouth, by a sort of joint resembling a pair 
of hinges, but connected by a strong muscle, which is 
so elastic as to keep the features firm when not in 
action, and to allow their being stretched to an immo- 
derate extent when the size or form of the prey seized 
by the viper requires it. The gullet, or throat, receives 
the food from the mouth, and being very large and 
elastic, easily enlarges or contracts, according to the 
size and shape of the substance to be swallowed. 
From hence a part only is at once received into the 


FASCINATION OF SERPENTS. 125 


stomach, which is by no means so large a receptacle 
as the gullet: here it continues till the usual course 
of digestion reduces it to chyle, which, going off in the 
natural way, affords room for the remaining part to 
enter the stomach, and digest in like manner as the 
former. 

The examination of this viper turned the conversa- 
tion on the subject of serpents in general, and particu- 
larly on the strange power that has often been attri- 
buted to them, of fascinating their prey to that degree, 
that, notwithstanding the dread that every creature 
feels at the sight of their natural enemies, the prey of 
the serpent tribe are said to approach their destroyers, 
and even to go, by an irresistible impulse, into their 
mouths. Some naturalists dispute the existence of 
this power in the serpent, and imagine that fear occa- 
sions this self-devotion of its prey ; whilst others sup- 
pose that the maternal affection of birds induces the 
old one to present herself to the ravager, with design 
to withdraw his attention from her young, and, in 
her anxiety for their safety, to venture incautiously so 
far that she can no longer recede from the grasp of her 
enemy. That this is not always the case, is proved 
by an experiment mentioned in the Philosophical 
Transactions. “ A viper-catcher, who had more than 
sixty living vipers in a chest, put a living mouse in 
among them. Now, it is well known that these crea- 
tures never feed whilst in confinement, unless it be a 


126 A MOUSE AND VIPER. 


female that is with young. One of the vipers in the 
chest happened to be in this situation. None of the 
others paid any attention to the mouse; but she raised 
up her head a little, and looked furiously at it. The 
terrified mouse stood still for a considerable time ; 
though the viper continued rolled up in a spiral form, 
only raising up her head and looking at it, vibrating 
her tongue at the same time. The mouse at length 
took courage to move, but without running away, only 
walking, as if terrified, round and round the viper, 
squeaking frequently as it went ; till at length it came 
before the head of its enemy, which was still in an erect 
posture, with the mouth open. The unfortunate 
mouse, after some time, drew nearer, and at last crept 
into the viper’s mouth, where it was gradually swal- 
lowed, without obliging her to alter her position.” 

Tasso has given a beautiful description of one of 
this wily race, in his Jerusalem Delivered, which to 
you, who have a poetical taste, cannot fail of being an 
acceptable sequel to the subject. 


«« When lo! a serpent rushing from his cell, 
Opposed their passage, horrible and fell! 
Aloft his head and squalid breast he held ; 
Bestreak’d with gold, his neck with anger swell’d ; 
Fire fill’d his eyes ; he hid the path beneath ; 
And smoke and poison issued with his breath. 
Now in thick curls, his scaly length he wound ; 
Now trail’d his opening curls along the ground.”’ 


ANECDOTES OF MR. PALMER. 27 


I will now dismiss the inferior orders of creation, 
and fill the remainder of my sheet with some anecdotes 
that will make you better acquainted with Mr. Pal- 
mer’s character. When he was first presented to the 
living he now enjoys, ignorance and vice prevailed to 
a lamentable extent amongst his parishioners. His 
first care was to make himself beloved by the exercise 
of every kind office, and to alleviate, as much as pos- 
sible, their temporal wants. Having gained their af- 
fections, he began to give them advice as a friend ; 
and by the slow but powerful influence of example, 
united with precept, enlightened and instructed their 
minds. The interest he took in their affairs, the con- 
descending and sympathetic visits that both he and 
Mrs. Palmer frequently paid to their neighbours of all 
classes, endeared them greatly, not to the parish only, 
but to those who lived beyond its boundaries. General 
esteem was followed by a degree of respect approach- 
ing to veneration. As he is far more desirous of pro- 
moting the cause of piety and virtue, than of obtaining 
the reputation of an orator, his discourses are plain 
and instructive; enforcing the example of our Divine 
Master, rather than displaying his learning on abstract 
subjects that his congregation do not understand: so 
that the meanest capacity may go home the wiser and 
better for the lesson delivered from the pulpit. The 
great aim of his life is, to discharge conscientiously 


128 A CHRISTIAN PASTOR. 


the sacred functions of his profession, with the mode- 
ration and humility of a Christian, without aspiring 
after riches or dignity. Nor will you accuse me of 
drawing a flattering picture, when you know that, 
through the means of a powerful family connexion, he 
was, some time ago, presented to a lucrative and dig- 
nified benefice ; but no offers, however tempting — no 
persuasions,—could induce him to leave his flock, to 
whom he considers himself united for life; and that, 
having once engaged to devote his time and faculties 
to their spiritual improvement, he has determined to 
reject every proposal of temporal advantage, that 
should dissolve a connexion so dear to him, and that 
yields so much satisfaction.* With such opinions, 
you may believe he has no taste for the pleasures of 
luxury or indulgence: his table is plain, though plen- 
tifully supplied. His wife admires his principles, and 
promotes all his plans. Simplicity, with neatness, 
appears in every part of her domestic arrangements. 
The children are brought up to be useful, rather than 
to shine: the cultivation of their understandings is 
preferred to showy accomplishments ; but great atten- 
tion is paid to their manners, and the government of 
the temper. They are but young at present, there- 
fore it is impossible to decide on their future charac- 


* A similar anecdote is related of Dr. Burgess, the present 
bishop of Salisbury. 


A HAPPY FAMILY. 129 


ters; but hitherto they are distinguished by their 
gentleness, activity, and affectionate dispositions. 

With this happy family I pass much of my time in 
a very agreeable manner; perfect intimacy subsisting 
between them and Mrs. Saville. Iam neither dull 
nor solitary with such associates. My mind is opened 
to new views ; I see things in a different light ; and 
this retirement, which would formerly have been a 
banishment, is now my choice. My amusements, my 
employments are new ; but they have not less zest 
than my former ones, and they afford far greater va- 
riety than one dull round of visiting and public diver- 
sions. 

Adieu, my Emily: write soon, and you will give 
pleasure to your sincerely affectionate 

CAROLINE. 


130 VELOCITY OF 


LETTER XVI. 
FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


DEAR CAROLINE, 


WueEN my father and Mr. Craven return from 
the sports of the field, they generally chat over the 
exploits of the day, and are often led mto curious dis- 
quisitions on the nature of animals, and other topics 
of natural history. On these occasions, I am usually 
an attentive listener, as I employ myself with my 
work ; but seldom take any part in the conversation, 
unless my curiosity is particularly excited, my father 
not being fond of interruption. But the other evening 
I was so much interested, I could not restram myself 
from urging Mr. Craven to give me all the information 
he could on the amazing swiftness of the flight of birds. 

A partridge that had escaped beyond the aim of 
their guns, gave rise to an argument on the compara- 
tive velocity of different creatures. 

My father remembered having seen a famous race- 
horse, called Kclipse, gallop a mile in a minute; and 
he was of opinion that few birds could fly faster. Mr. 
Craven replied, that the instance he mentioned far 
exceeded the utmost efforts of horses in general, but 
that even that extraordinary example would not bear 


PARTICULAR ANIMALS. T3l 


any comparison with the ease and swiftness with 
which the winged tribes cleave the air; especially 
when the extreme fatigue, lassitude, and debility, that 
follow such exertions in a horse, are taken into the 
question. “ But,’ continued he, “in order to give 
you a more accurate idea of the surprising capacity of 
birds to pass over a vast space in a short time, I will 
relate the gradations of motion in different animals, as 
T heard them from a gentleman who still preserves a 
taste for the almost-forgotten diversion of hawking, 
and who has paid particular attention to the present 
subject. At a Newmarket coursing meeting, the fleet- 
est horse in training was taken out, and a hare being 
found at a few miles’ distance from any cover, the very 
best brace of greyhounds were let out of slips. It was 
a dry morning in March, when hares are supposed to 
be most swift. The greyhounds were never able to 
turn the hare, which is a proof that her speed was 
superior to theirs. The jockey who rode the horse 
was one of the most skilful of his profession, and of 
a remarkably light weight. His account of the pur- 
suit, in the language of sportsmen, was, that he 
could live, or keep up with the dogs, but could not 
draw or get nearer the hare; nay, he acknowledged 
that she continued to gain upon him.* Rabbits never 
venture far from their burrows, but it is well known 


* Sir John Seabright favoured me with the above information. 


* 


£32 COMPARATIVE SWIFTNESS 


that, for the distance they go, they run much faster 
than a hare: a fact clearly shown by this circumstance, 
that few greyhounds ever kill a rabbit in coursing : 
when they happen to catch them, it is by surprise, or 
a sudden spring. The slowest flying hawk will strike 
upon a rabbit with scarcely an appearance of moving ; 


~ so much more rapidly does it fly, than a rabbit can 


run. Yet this hawk flies too slowly to catch a par- 


tridge: a much swifter species of hawk is requisite 
for that pursuit, and one of still greater speed for a 
pigeon; but for a swallow, a hawk must be found 
that can outstrip all these competitors. Therefore, if 
we take the speed of the swiftest horse at sixty miles 
an hour, (though no horse ever maintained that pace 
for so long a time,) as a standard by which the rest 
may be estimated, and pursue the calculation from the 
horse to the greyhound, hare, rabbit, slow hawk, par- 
tridge, pigeon, swallow, and hawks of the swiftest 
kind, we may pretty satisfactorily account for the 
amazing rapidity with which birds perform long voy- 
ages. If we only suppose them to go at the rate of 
half a mile in a minute for the space of twenty- 
four hours, they will pass over in that time an extent 
of more than seven hundred miles ; but, if assisted by 
a favourable current of air, there is reason to sup- 
pose that an equal voyage may be performed in less 
time.” 


OF QUADRUPEDS AND BIRDS. 135 


My father, though astonished at the result, acknow- 
ledged that Mr. Craven’s reasoning had the greatest 
air of probability, however incredible it might appear, 
at the: first view, to those who had never made the 
comparison between the known speed of quadrupeds 
and the probable swiftness of birds. ‘“ How surpris- 
ing,” said I, “ that such a little tender creature as a © 
swallow should be capable of enduring such excessive 
fatigue, and travelling to such vast distances!” This 
remark drew from Mr. Craven many observations on 
the harmony of the structure of birds, with their habits 
and necessities, and the migration of various kinds of 
animals ; which show that he has collected knowledge 
from books as well as from experience, and pleased 
me so well that I cannot withhold them from you. 
« The goodness and wisdom of Providence,” said he, 
“‘ have furnished every creature with those things best 
adapted to its wants. Birds of passage are admirably 
qualified for such expeditions as their instincts prompt 
them to undertake. Let us select the swallow as an 
example. The narrowness of its front, if the expres- 
sion be allowable, exposes but a small surface to the 
resistance of the air. The glossy smoothness of their 
feathers, which le so compactly over one another, and, 
above all, the membraneous cells or cavities distributed 
in their bones for the reception of air, make them 
light and buoyant. The length of the outward fea- 


134 CARRIER PIGEONS 


thers of the wings of the swallow tribe qualify them 
in a peculiar manner for their mode of life, which is 
being almost always on the wing. Their food is in- 
sects, and their forked tail serves as a rudder, to en- 
able them to dart either way in pursuit of their nim- 
ble prey, which would otherwise escape them.” 

At this moment, my cousin Henry, who is a stu- 
dent at Cambridge, but much fonder of the diversions 
of the turf than the stores of ancient learning, entered 
the parlour, and confirmed the assertions of Mr. Cra- 
ven with respect to the progressive swiftness of differ- 
ent kinds of birds, and their capacity for maintaining 
their speed for a great length of way. He said, that 
a favourite carrier pigeon won him a considerable sum, 
by flying from Newmarket to London, a distance of 
sixty miles within the hour. Since this conversation, 
I have gone every evening about sun-set to the hill 
behind the plantations, to watch the rooks returning 
home from feeding ; and I observe that, in the space 
of a few minutes, I often see them pass a considerable 
extent ; for I can perceive them four or five miles be- 
fore they reach me, and as far after they have passed 
me; andthe whole, comparatively speaking, the action 
ofa moment, ‘The surprising power of wing bestowed 
on birds of passage makes me long to know some par- 
ticulars of their excursions: perhaps your friend Mr. 
Palmer will satisfy my curiosity. If you can obtain 


AND ROOKS. 135 


any particulars on this subject, it will furnish you with 
a topic for your reply, which I shall impatiently ex- 
pect, as nothing affords me more pleasure than to 
hear from you, and to share in the adventures of your 
cottage life. | 

Direct to mein London ; for, to my great mortifica- 
tion, my father’s affairs oblige him to take up his 
abode there for a few weeks. I am, my dear Caro- 
line, your affectionate friend, 

EmILy. 


~~ 


136 BIRDS OF PASSAGE. 


LETTER XVII. 


FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


MY DEAR EMILY, 


Your inquiry concerning the passage of birds 
from one country to another has procured for us a very 
entertaining lecture from Mr. Palmer on this curious 
subject, the general sense of which I shall transcribe 
in my own words. Many species of birds change 
their situation regularly at particular seasons of the 
year ; either because the food which they live upon 
fails, or for the sake of a warmer or colder climate, or 
im search of a more secure retreat for rearing their 
young. Some cross wide seas, and retire to distant 
countries ; whilst others migrate only from one part 
of the same country to another part that is more or less 
warm, according to their constitution. Linnets are 
said only to shift their quarters, breeding in one part 
of the island, and removing with their young to an- 
other. It appears, that all the individuals of a species 
do not always make the same journeys, or retreat to the 
same places. The hooded crow remains in North 
Britain the whole year, whilst some of the species 


BIRDS WHICH VISIT BRITAIN. 137 


have been known to breed on Dartmoor, in Devon- 
shire. Of those which inhabit Sweden, some remain 
in certain provinces the whole year ; whilst others, in 
different situations, change their habitations. 

It is well known that the cuckoo leaves us in au- 
tumn, and does not return till spring: but where he 
hides himself during the winter, has not yet been dis- 
covered. 

The wryneck is supposed to feed on ants: when 
these insects have retired into their winter quarters, 
hunger obliges him to seek support in a warmer 
climate. 

The fieldfare and the redwing live on berries. Our 
hedges supply them with this kind of food in winter ; 
and in summer they are feasted in the forests of Nor- 
way, and other northern countries. 

Larks, fly-catchers, wagtails, and warblers, feed on 
insects and worms; yet only part of them quit our 
island on the approach of winter, though it is reason- 
able to suppose that the same motive would influence 
them all to act alike. 

Every species of curlews, woodcocks, sand-pipers, 
and plovers, leave this country in the spring, and re- 
tire to the North of Europe to breed. As soon as the 
young can fly, they return here ; because the frost, 
which sets in early in those cold regions, hardens the 
ground, and deprives them of their natural subsistence, 


138 MIGRATORY WATER-FOWL. 


which is worms, as their bills can no longer penetrate 
the earth in search of their prey. 

Lapland is a country of lakes, rivers, swamps, and 
mountains, covered with thick and gloomy forests, 
that afford, in the summer season, a secure, undisturb- 
ed retreat to innumerable multitudes of water-fowl 
of almost every species, which, in winter, disperse 
over the greatest part of Europe. Wild swans, geese, 
ducks, goosanders, divers, and other water-fowl, repair 
to Lapland to pass the summer, where they rear their 
young, and are daily regaled on myriads of the larvee 
of gnats, and other insects that abound in the lakes of 
that country. Few of these tribes breed in England. 
They return from their northern excursion about the 
beginning of October, and first hover round our shores, 
till, compelled by severe frosts, they betake themselves 
to our lakes and rivers. Some of the web-footed are 
of more hardy constitutions than others, and they are — 
able to endure the ordinary winters of the northern 
regions ; but when the cold is unusually severe, they 
are obliged to seek a shelter in our more moderate 
climate. 

The gannet visits our shores, in pursuit of the 
shoals of herrings and pilchards that annually migrate 
into our seas, and sometimes extends her journeys 
even to the Tagus, to prey on the sardina. Few of 
the different species of wild geese and ducks breed 


BRITAIN DESERTED BY SOME BIRDS. 139 


here: perhaps, because they are too much interrupted 
in a populous country ; for it appears that birds of a 
shy disposition sometimes leave their usual station for 
the sake of privacy, when the number of inhabitants 
increases. Naturalists assert, that when great part of 
our island was a mere waste—a tract of woods and 
fens, many species of birds, which now migrate at the 
breeding season, remained in full confidence through- 
out the year. 

The egret, a species of heron now seldom found in 
this country, in former times abounded here in great 
numbers ; and the crane, that has totally forsaken us, 
bred familiarly in our marshes, as, like other cloven- 
footed water-fowl, (the heron excepted,) they make 
their nest upon the ground, exposed to the rude touch 
of every intruder. When the number of people in- 
creased, forests were cut down, swamps drained, and 
the plough made inroads where the ground had never 
before been turned up: these operations disturbed the 
solitary haunts of the timid wild-fowl, and by de- 
grees drove them to seek a situation more congenial 
to their habits; whilst those species that nestle on 
the almost inaccessible rocks that in some parts im- 
pend over the British seas still breed there in vast 
numbers, having nothing to fear from man, except the 
rare disturbance of a few desperadoes who venture 
their lives in search of birds’ eggs. 


140 PECULIARITIES IN ANIMAL MIGRATION. 


The migration of animals is a surprising propensity, 
evidently impressed on them for their preservation by 
their Creator. Each species knows the proper season 
for departure, and the course they should pursue. 
They understand one another, and assemble for their 
voyage at some appointed signal unknown tous. 
The time, the place, and the order of their passage, 
differ according to the species; and what is a still 
more striking proof of design in these emigrations is, 
the conformity between the vegetation of some plants 
and the arrival of certain birds of passage. Linneeus 
observes, that the wood anemone blows in Sweden on 
the arrival of the swallow, and the marsh marigold 
when the cuckoo sings. And it is most probable, that 
it is only from the want of accurate observation that 
many more such agreements remain unknown ; for 
there may be attractions, or objects of aversion, be- 
tween plants and animals, that are wholly concealed 
from us. It is said, that birds of passage follow a 
leader during the day, who is occasionally changed, 
and during the night makes a continual cry, that their 
company may be kept together by the sound. 

Swallows that have been hatched too late to acquire 
their full strength of pinion, or such as are maimed or 
diseased, have frequently been found in the hollows of 
rocks on the sea-coasts, and even under water, in a 
torpid state, from which warmth has revived them. 


MIGRATION OF FISH. 141 


From these circumstances doubts have arisen whether 
swallows migrate or lie dormant ; but there are so 
many proofs of their migration, that there is ground 
to believe these deviations are only accidental. On 
the approach of cold weather, they have been often 
observed hovering on the sea-coast, as if waiting for a 
calm, or a favourable wind, to waft them to their des- 
tined port. In warm climates these tender birds re- 
main stationary, because there is no cold to injure 
them, or destroy the insects upon which they feed. 

_ Linneus says, that the female chaffinches alone 
leave Sweden in September, and migrate to Holland, 
forsaking their mates till the return of spring ; a devi- 
ation from the usual course for which it is not easy 
to account. 

This extraordinary propensity to change their resi- 
dence is not confined to birds; fish and insects are 
known to migrate at certain seasons. Shoals of her- 
rings, cod, and haddocks, approach our shores at a 
particular time of the year, and quit them with equal 
regularity, without leaving a single one behind. 

Adanson, a celebrated traveller, relates, that near 
the river Gambia, in Africa, about eight in the morning 
in February, there suddenly arose over his head a thick 
cloud, which darkened the air, and deprived him and 
his companions of the rays of the sun. He soon found 
that it was a swarm of locusts, raised about twenty 


142 MIGRATION OF RATS. 


or thirty fathoms from the ground, and covering an 
extent of several leagues. At length, a shower of 
these insects descended, and, after devouring every 
green herb whilst they rested, renewed their flight. 
This cloud was brought by a strong east wind, and 
was the whole morning in passing over the adjacent 
country. To the testimony of this traveller may be 
added, that gnats, bees, and musquitoes, sometimes 
migrate from one place to another. 

Here Mrs. Saville interrupted Mr. Palmer, by re- 
marking that rats migrate from place to place; as, 
when she was young, she had once an opportunity of 
observing. Being on a visit with a relation who re- 
sided in an old mansion, she slept with a maid-ser- 
vant at the end of a long gallery in a chamber to 
which belonged an anti-chamber divided from the bed- 
chamber by folding doors, which were set open on ac- 
count of alight placed in the middle of the anti-cham- 
ber. About midnight they were awakened by a noise, 
and, on opening the curtains, were much alarmed on 
seeing a great number of rats surrounding the rush- 
light. Not knowing how to drive away these unex- 
pected enemies, they threw a pincushion into the midst 
of them, and in a moment the whole company disap- 
peared. The sudden decampment of the rats fright- 
ened the two girls almost as much as their appear- 
ance. The servant explained the phenomenon as an 


GREAT NORWAY RATS. 143 


omen of some misfortune, which, though not satisfac- 
tory to Mrs. Saville’s more cultivated mind, she was 
still unable to account for what she had seen, and was 
almost ready to doubt the evidence of her senses. In 
this state of suspense she lay watching till morning. 
When it was time to rise, the maid attempted to reach 
some of her clothes that had fallen on the ground, 
when a rat, which had concealed itself in them, flew 
at her and tore her arm. The next day, carpenters 
were employed to examine the apartments, but neither 
crack nor cranny was found through which a rat 
could pass ; it was therefore supposed that these rats 
were on a journey, and in their passage came down 
the chimney, and returned by the same aperture.* 

Mr. Palmer said, that this was an extraordinary 
instance of the migration of rats, which, in this coun- 
try, is effected in smaller companies than in the cold 
regions of the north ; where, as travellers relate, the 
great Norway rats migrate in astonishing multitudes, 
and never go out of their way, but pass over any ob- 
struction they meet in their road. 

Evening closed the conversation. Before we part- 
ed, it was proposed that Rachel and I should accom- 
pany Mr. and Mrs. Palmer on a little excursion to 
the sea-coast. We both looked at Mrs. Saville for her 


* This circumstance happened in an out-room of the author’s, 
in the house opposite Bow Church in Cheapside. 


144 VISIT TO SEA-COAST PROPOSED. 


approbation, for no pleasure could tempt either of us 
to do anything disagreeable to her. With a gracious 
smile she nodded assent, and to-morrow we leave her 
for a few days. On my return, I shall write again, if 
your town engagements will leave you leisure to read 
an epistle from one whose best claim to your notice is 
her affection. 
CAROLINE. 


A UNITED FAMILY. 145 


LETTER XVIII. 


FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 


DEAR EMILY, 


AFTER a very pleasant excursion through the 
Isle of Anglesey, I am again fixed under the protec- 
tion of my kind friend Mrs. Saville, who has the 
valuable art of rendering “ to-morrow cheerful as to- 
day ;” and, by a happy succession of employment for 
the body and the mind, teaching her inmates to be 
contented with themselves, and strangers to ennui. 
Every one of her family feels the sympathy of friend- 
ship for each other. She well knows how to mix the 
dignity of authority with kindness. Her servants are 
bound to her, not merely by the sordid ties of interest, 
but by those of affection: they daily feel her solici- 
tude for their most important concerns, and they re- 
ward her care by unfeigned attachment. Old Sarah 
was as much rejoiced to see us safely returned as Mrs. 
Saville herself. She lived with my aunt before Rachel 
was born ; and though she treats her with great re-_ 
spect, she is as fond of her as if she were her mother. 
L 


146 FORM AND HABITS OF THE PUFFIN. 


Had you seen our reception, you would have sup- 
posed we had been absent a month, instead of a few 
days.—But I have said enough on this subject: it 
is time to amuse you with something of a different 
nature. 

In the course of our excursion, we visited the small 
Island of Priestholm, which lies near the coast of 
Anglesey. It might be called the land of puffins : 
fifty acres of ground were literally covered with them ; 
the air, the sea, the rocks, seemed alive with them. 
They are so tame and inactive as to suffer themselves 
to be knocked down with a stick. Their legs are 
placed so far back, that they stand with their heads 
nearly upright. Their bill forms a triangle, and is of 
an orange red. The upper part of the plumage, and 
a collar round the neck, are blackish, softened into a 
greyish white ; and the under parts are quite white. 
The legs are orange. Their tail and wings are short. 
They do not rise from the ground with facility ; which 
makes them generally careful to alight on places 
from whence they can either run down the slope of a 
hill, or throw themselves from the rocks. 

Puffins are birds of passage, and resort to these 
coasts in the spring, remaining here till about the 
11th of August. They are formidable enemies to the 
rabbits, that were once numerous on this island ; for, 
on their arrival, they immediately take possession of 


PUFFINS INIMICAL TO RABBITS. 147 


the burrows in the crevices of the rocks, or on the 
sloping ground ; and if the latest comers find all the 
holes occupied, they make new ones for themselves. 
We were told that the male birds undertake this 
task ; and that, while they are thus employed, they 
are so intent on their work, that they are easily 
caught with the hand. These invaders have nearly 
extirpated the rabbits; for few of these defenceless 
animals are able to resist the strength of their beaks. 

-They form something like a nest, of a few sticks 
and some grass put together, on which the female lays a 
single white egg, that is generally hatched in the he- 
ginning of July. The parent birds are thought to sit 
alternately, and each by turns goes abroad for food. 
They are easily taken whilst sitting or rearing their 
young; and if set at liberty, these silly birds, instead 
of flying away, either from parental fondness, or for 
the sake of shelter, hurry back to their young brood, 
and fall into the hands of their enemies. 

Young puffins are pickled for sale, and form an 
article of traffic peculiar to this neighbourhood ; but 
they are apt to have a strong flavour, from feed- 
ing on sprats and sea-weeds. 

As we have lately turned our attention to the sub- 
ject of migration, perhaps you will be entertained with 
some account of the land-crab, that is found in the 
Bahama Islands, as well as in most tropical countries, 


148 LAND-CRABS OF THE BAHAMAS. 


and feeds upon vegetables. These animals not only 
live in a kind of orderly society in their retreats in 
the mountains, but march regularly about April or 
May to the sea-side, in a body of some millions at a 
time. At the proper season, they sally out from the 
stumps of hollow trees, the clefts of rocks, and the 
holes which they dig for themselves under the surface 
of the earth. When they are on their march, the 
ground is covered with them, so that a step can 
scarcely be taken without treading on them. The sea 
is their place of destination, and to that they advance 
without any deviation. No geometrician could send 
them to their appointed station by a shorter course : 
they neither turn to the right nor to the left, whatever 
obstacle intervenes ; even if a house stand in the way, 
they will attempt to scale the walls. Natural impe- 
diments are not so easily overcome ; they are obliged 
to conform to the face of the country: if it is inter- 
sected with rivers, they are then seen to wind along 
the course of the stream. The procession from the 
mountains is generally formed into three divisions. 
The first consists of the strongest and boldest males, 
that, like pioneers, clear the way, and face the great- 
est dangers. These are often obliged to halt for want 
of rain, and seek the most convenient retirement, till 
a change of weather enables them to go forward. 
The main body is composed of females, which never 


THEIR JOURNEY TO CAST THEIR SPAWN. 149 


leave the mountains till the rainy season is begun. 
They march in regular order, being formed into co- 
lumns fifty paces broad and three miles long, and so 
close that they almost cover the ground. In a few 
days this company is followed by a parcel of stragglers, 
male and female, that are not so strong as those which 
have advanced before them. They travel chiefly in 
the night ; but if a shower falls in the day, they do 
not fail to take advantage of it. If they are alarmed, 
they turn back in a confused, disorderly manner, hold- 
ing up their nippers and clattering them together, as 
a sort of threat to their enemies. When any one of 
them happens to be wounded or maimed, so that he 
cannot proceed, they devour him without mercy, as if 
determined to get rid of all impediments, and then 
pursue their march. 

As soon as their journey, which lasts several weeks, 
is concluded by reaching the shore, they prepare to 
cast their spawn, by suffering the waves to wash over 
their bodies ; which is supposed to assist the growth of 
the eggs, for they soon afterwards appear under the 
barbs of the tail in a bunch as large as a hen’s egg. 
They now seek the shore for the last time, and de- 
posit their spawn in the water, leaving it to the 
chance of accidents to preserve or destroy them. At 
this season, when it is said that the waters are black- 
ened by the crabs’ spawn, shoals of hungry fish ap- 


150 RENOVATION OF SHELL IN LAND-CRABS. 


proach the shore, in expectation of this annual sup- 
ply of food, and countless millions of these eggs are 
devoured by their rapacious enemies. Those that 
escape the general destruction are hatched under the 
sand ; and soon after multitudes of these young crabs 
are seen travelling towards the mountains. The old 
ones, by this time, are grown so lean and feeble, that 
they are obliged to remain in the flat parts of the 
country till they are more able to return: in this 
state they retreat into holes, closing the entrance with 
leaves and dirt, that they may be secured from the 
air whilst they throw off their shells and gain new 
ones. During this operation, they are quite naked, 
and almost motionless. As soon as the new shell is 
sufficiently hardened, the crab sets out on its return, 
and having recovered its flesh, is at that time very 
good eating.* 

It has been asserted, that when crabs have lost 
their shells, the place of their retreat is frequently 
guarded by a hard-shelled crab, who, at that time, 
advances boldly to meet the foe, and will with diffi- 
culty quit the field; yet shows great timidity on 
other occasions, and has a wonderful speed in at- 
tempting his escape; but, if often mterrupted, feigns 
death in order to deceive his pursuer, whilst he 
watches an opportunity to sink himself into the 


* Encyclopedia Britannica. 


SAGACITY OF A HOUSE-DOG, kit 


sand, leaving only his eyes exposed. Whether 
this account refers to any particular species of 
erab, or to the whole kind, I am not able to ascer- 
tain. 

T cannot conclude without relating a very singular 
circumstance that has happened at the parsonage- 
house, and given Mr. Palmer much uneasiness.* I 
must begin my story by telling you, that a large 
house-dog is kept in the yard, who is a sagacious 
animal ; kind to his friends, but formidable to those 
whom he regards as the enemies of the family. This 
dog is let loose of a night. A labourer, who has 
been employed on the farm long enough to gain 
some confidence, was entrusted with the key of the 
barn, and frequently employed to bring sacks of corn 
from the barn to the house for family use. One 
night this man went, after the dog, who knew him 
well, was unchained, and took a sack of corn. The 
dog attended him very quietly as long as he pursued 
the path that led to his master’s house ; but when he 
turned his course into the road that led him to the 
village, he caught hold of his coat and would not let 
him stir ; as much as to say, “ Where are you going 
with my master’s corn?” The man tried then to go 


* This singular instance of sagacity happened at Church 
Eden in Staffordshire, and is related on the authority of the late 
Mr. Sneyd, of Belmont. 


152 EVIL OF BAD COMPANIONS. 


back again with the sack to the barn; but the dog, 
as if conscious of his design, would neither let him do 
that, nor yet carry the sack to the parsonage. In this 
dilemma the man was obliged to remain all night, 
standing with the sack of corn and the dog, who held 
him fast, though he did not bite or hurt him in the 
least ; and in this strange situation he was found in 
the morning. <A circumstance so extraordinary led to 
a discovery of his guilty intention; for he could not 
account how he came there with asack of corn, pmned 
down by the dog, but by throwing himself on Mr. 
Palmer’s mercy, and making an open confession of his 
dishonesty. 

The sagacity of this faithful dog has not only saved 
his master’s corn, but is likely to be a means of re- 
claiming the man, by an early exposure of his fault ; 
for it seems he has been led away by some had com- 
panions, who persuaded him to this attempt. Mr. 
Palmer has taken great pains to convince him of the 
danger of such associates, and the enormity of his 
offence ; and the more effectually to preserve him from 
any further intercourse with them, and to remove him 
from a place where his character is lost, has prevailed 
with a friend of his in Shropshire to take him on 
trial, having first informed him of his misconduct. 
This last act of kindness entirely overcame him; he 
wept like a child, and made the most solemn promises 


WELL-TIMED LENITY. 153 


of amendment. As he is young, and not hardened in 
vice, hopes may be entertained that he will keep his 
word, and afford his master the satisfaction of hav- 
ing, by well-timed lenity, saved a fellow-creature from 
ruin. 

Dinner is announced: I have only time to bid you 
adieu, and close my letter. 

CAROLINE. 


154 ANECDOTES OF ANIMALS. 


LETTER XIX. 


FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


DEAR CAROLINE, 


Lonpon is not the field for natural history, 
nor did I expect, in this region of bustle and visits, 
to collect any stances of the sagacious faculties of 
the brute creation; but where the mind is intent 
on any single pursuit, there is no place so barren but 
may yield some supply of knowledge, nor any com- 
pany so insignificant but may afford some gleanings 
worth preserving. 

We joined a large family party a few days ago 
at my uncle’s, where the younger part of the com- 
pany was excused from the slavery of the card-table, 
and indulged with the enjoyment of free conversa- 
tion. Amongst this cheerful group was a West- 
minster scholar, who related a curious fact of a blind 
beggar, who frequently solicits charity in that neigh- 
bourhood, particularly in Dean’s Yard, accompanied 
by a dog, who is really a valuable friend to this 
poor man. He serves him as a guide, and conducts 


A BLIND MAN’S DOG. L355 


him from street to street with safety; but this 
office, though very useful, shows no unusual de- 
gree of intelligence. Many dogs are taught to lead 
the blind: this dog does more. When charitable 
people fling halfpence from the windows to his 
master, he searches carefully for them, picks them 
up with his mouth, and deposits them in the hand 
held out to receive them; and this he repeats, 
without being tired, whatever number of halfpence 
may happen to be thrown out. The dexterity of 
the dog in collecting the money, is an inducement 
for many to bestow the pittance for which the beg- 
gar pleads; especially the boys belonging to the 
school, who are highly amused with exercising the 
dog in his business, and trying to render the task 
more difficult by hiding the money in the mud. 
But whether he be guided by the scent of the copper, 
or the keenness of his sight, he seldom fails to find 
them. 

This account interested the party: most of them 
found a story to relate, some of which are so curious, 
I must repeat them. 

A dog belonging to Mr. Taylor, a clergyman 
who lived at Colton, near Wolseley Bridge, was 
accused of killing numbers of sheep. Complaints 
were made to his master, who asserted that the 
thing was impossible, because he was muzzled every 


156 INGENUITY OF A HORSE. 


night. The neighbours persisting in the charge, the 
dog one night was watched, and he was seen to get 
his head out of the muzzle, then to go into a field, 
and kill and eat as much of a sheep as satisfied his 
appetite. He next went into the river to wash his 
mouth or quench his thirst, and returned afterwards 
to his kennel, got his head into the muzzle again, 
and lay very quietly down to sleep.”* This looks 
like a consciousness of doing what he ought not 
to do, and a determination to indulge appetite by 
stealth. 

The same design is apparent in a horse, which 
had been observed to disengage his head from the 
halter, then to open the door of the stable and go 
out, in the middle of the night only, and regale upon 
com in a field at a considerable distance from the 
stable. The horse returned to his stall before the 
break of day, and had continued this practice some 
time without being detected. He adroitly opened 
the door by drawing a string fastened to the latch 
with his teeth. And it is said that on returning to 
the stable he shut the door: but I am not so credu- 
lous as to attribute that to design, but rather to the 


* Related by Miss Sneyd, sister to the late Mrs. Edge- 
worth. 


DOCILITY OF THE GOLDFINCH. 157 


swing of the door, that closed after him without any 
effort to make it do so.* 

It came next to the turn of a young lady to enter- 
tain the company on the same subject ; who said she 
was not surprised at the adroitness of the horse in 
opening the latch, because she had heard of an instance 
of ingenuity in a cat very similar. “Some years 
ago,” continued she, “a family in Waterford were 
alarmed by an outer door belonging to their house 
being frequently opened without any visible cause. 
At last, after many surmises, a cat was observed ap- 
proaching the door, and striving to push it open; but, 
on finding it shut, she leaped up, put one paw on the 
handle of the latch, and with the other bent down 
the trigger till the latch was raised ; then she let her- 
self down, and pushed with her head against the door 
till it was sufficiently open to admit her. The family 
to whom this cat belonged saw her repeat the same 
feat several times.” t—‘“ Hunger, I suppose,” said a 
gentleman, “ was the stimulus to her contrivance. 
Goldfinches we often see obliged to obtain their drink 
by drawing up a little bucket, and their seed by lift- 


* This anecdote was related to Dr. M‘Donnel of Belfast, by 
a friend on whose veracity he could rely. 

+ Mr. Boswell, of Belfast, can vouch for the truth of this 
anecdote. 


158 <A PIG AND BADGER USED AS POINTERS. 


ing up the lid of a box ; which, though more common, 
is equally curious. A friend of mine,” continued he, 
« Mrs. Attersal, of Crab Tree, near Fulham, had a 
pug-dog which learned to pull the bell whenever he 
wanted to be fed.’ I remarked, that these actions, 
so contrary to the habits of the animals in a state of 
nature, ought to be attributed to the power of acquir- 
ing new habits from instruction, and associating with 
man in a domestic state, rather than to instinct. 
“Your observation,” replied the gentleman, “ reminds 
me of a pig, which was brought up by the late Sir 
Henry Mildmay’s gamekeeper amongst the puppies, 
at his seat in Hampshire, and, from imitation, learned 
to point ; and afterwards assimilated his manners so 
much to those of the dogs with whom he had lived, 
that he became a destroyer of sheep. And, as a fur- 
ther proof of the capacity of different animals to re- 
ceive new habits from education, I remember a badger 
at Lord Belmour’s, which also points, and accompa- 
nies his lordship on his shooting expeditions. He 
is likewise useful in a way more congenial to his 
nature: he fishes for his master, and brings the 
salmon out of the water without offering to eat 
them.” 

This entertaiming conversation was concluded by 
the relation of an affecting incident that happened 
some years ago, near Amboy, in the Jerseys, in 


STORY OF A CHILD AND SNAKE. 159 


North America. <A child was accustomed, when it 
got its breakfast, to go beside the decaying trunk of a 
tree, in the cavity of which lodged a large black 
snake. With this reptile the child was observed to 
divide its breakfast, giving the snake, generally, every 
third or fourth spoonful of its pottage and milk. 
The creature, harmless whilst unprovoked, rested its 
head on its benefactor’s knee, looking in her face, and 
seemingly counting the spoonfuls; but when, by 
neglect, it did not receive its due share, it then made 
so free as to attempt to help itself: but for this im- 
pertinence it often got a blow with the spoon and a 
reprunand. The friends of the child, conceiving that 
this extraordinary friendship might have dangerous 
consequences should a quarrel ensue, prevailed upon 
the child to entice the snake from its habitation, when 
they killed it without pity; and by the same blow 
might be said to destroy their child,—for when she 
saw the fate of her friend and companion, she wept 
and lamented so much, that it undermined her 
health and brought her to the grave. 

Poor child! her sensibility was great. Had she 
lived to maturity, she would, in all probability, have 
made a most affectionate wife and mother. Yet, who 
could blame her parents for their apprehensions of the 
insidious disposition of her favourite? Who could 
have divined such an unfortunate result ? 


160 ATTACHMENT TO HOME. 


My time has passed more agreeably than I expect- 
ed; but, notwithstanding that, I am imaptient to 
return to Woodlands, and my father has consent- 
ed to do so next week, when I shall hope to find a 
letter from you. 

Your affectionate 
EMILY. 


A DELICATE BENEFACTION. 161 


LETTER XX. 


FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


DEAR EMILY, 


THE manner of conferring a kindness shows 
the delicacy of the benefactor’s mind more than the 
kindness itself. Patru, a very learned Frenchman, 
was driven by poverty to the mortifying necessity of 
selling his library. Boileau, the celebrated poet, pur- 
chased it; and, under the pretence that he had not 
room for it at that time in his own house, suffered it 
to remain in the hands of the original possessor as 
long as he lived. There might possibly be many 
friends who would have presented him with his books ; 
but how few would have done this generous action, 
without seeking the credit of it, or laying Patru under 
an obligation! In like manner, Mrs. Saville and my 
dear Rachel lighten the weight of my dependent situ- 
ation by frequent declarations that their happiness 
is increased by my company. In return, I endea- 
vour to render myself useful, but my ignorance of 
domestic affairs incapacitates me for those offices in 
which Rachel excels ; for her wise mother has made it 


M 


162 A NEST INCASED IN GROWING WOOD. 


a point to instruct her in every branch of family eco- 
nomy. I am her scholar; and, though very awk- 
ward in my new business, I hope, whenever we meet, 
to regale you with puddings and preserves of my 
own making. It is one of my dear aunt’s maxims, 
that nothing is trivial or mean that is useful; and 
that the comfort and order of a family depend very 
much upon an attention to trifles. No part of her 
household escapes her observation ; and she is desir- 
ous that I should acquire those domestic habits, 
which are so different from my former mode of life, 
that I should find them an unpleasant task, were it 
not for the example and condescension of Rachel, who 
not only instructs me, but also gives me her assistance, 
and lightens my labours by the pleasures of her con- 
versation. 

Mrs. Saville has just entered the house, with 
something m her hand, and summons me down 
stairs. I obey her call, and will resume my pen 
presently. 

* #* #* * 

An elm, near our house, was cut down some time 
ago, and the sawyers have been this day employed 
to divide it into planks. Upon cutting it up, they 
discovered a hollow place, nearly in the centre of the 
tree, containing a bird’s nest, and several eggs, which 


STORY OF A PAIR OF EAGLES. 163 


the saw has unfortunately broken.* It was this nest 
that Mrs. Saville wanted to show me. How long it 
had lain in its recess cannot be known 3; but, as the 
yolks of the eggs were not dried up, one would sup- 
pose that it could not be a very long period. It is 
difficult to account for the circumstance altogether. 
That a bird should choose such an unfavourable situa- 
tion for her progeny, is contrary to the usual sagacity 
of those creatures, whose maternal solicitude is so- 
striking; and that any part of an elm, a slow-grow- 
ing tree, should grow so rapidly as to enclose nest and 
eggs before they were destroyed by moisture or in- 
sects, is surprising ; especially as, from the cavity in 
which it lay, to the surface of the tree, were four or 
five inches of solid timber. The fact is certain, though 
to me inexplicable: I relate it as it happened. Leav- 
ing it to your penetration to develop the mystery, I 
shall fill the remainder of my letter with the history 
of a pair of eagles, that have taken their abode on the 
estate of Doctor M‘Donnel of Belfast.t This gentle- 
man has a farm at Fair Head; (which is a very re- 
markable promontory in the north of Ireland, termi- 


* This circumstance happened on the estate of Mr. Parker of 
Chelmsford, in the year 1807. 

+ This account was communicated by a friend of Dr. 
M‘Donnel’s. 


164 AN EAGLE IN CONFINEMENT, 


nated by the greatest basaltic pillars, perhaps, in the 
world ;) these rocks rise perpendicularly from the sea 
about five hundred feet, and afford an habitation to a 
pair of eagles, which breed annually in the inaccessi- 
ble precipice ; and their nest has seldom, if ever, been 
disturbed by man. At a certain time the young 
eagles disappear, and leave only the two old ones, who 
seem desirous of holding undivided empire. To what 
region the young eagles emigrate, is not known. If 
one of the old ones is shot, another soon appears ; so 
that a solitary bird is seldom seen, and no one ever 
observed more than two old ones. What seems sin- 
gular is, that although there is a considerable number 
of sheep breeding and grazing on the plain below, and 
that these eagles live on lambs, they never molest 
them, but carry on their depredations in Rathlin, in 
Hantine, and the Highland islands. Whether this 
arises from something noble in the disposition of the 
bird, sparing or contemning what is immediately in 
its power, or from the design of reserving the prey that 
lies so near its grasp for some pressing emergency, 
must be left to conjecture. 

The late Marquis of Antrim obtained one of these 
eagles, and confined it with a chain. This bird was 
long domesticated, but was often, from the careless- 
ness of servants, fed on putrid meat, and sometimes 
so much neglected, that he became very hungry. 


DEVIATIONS FROM PURE INSTINCT. 165 


When regularly fed, he ate freely, without being dis- 
turbed by the attention of the spectators; but if he 
had been long deprived of food, he would never touch 
the most delicious morsel that was set before him 
whilst any person was present. This strange conduct 
was supposed to arise from an apprehension of being 
deprived of the food of which he stood in so great need ; 
and therefore he always kept himself in a posture of 
defence and vigilance to guard it when of such value ; 
but when it was of less importance, he gratified his 
appetite without any precaution. From this account, 
it appears that these birds possess a degree of reflec- 
tion that enables them to adapt their conduct to cir- 
cumstances. 

There seems a mixture of reason and instinct, which 
differs widely from that pure instinct that never devi- 
ates from its rule, and is chiefly observed in the infe- 
rior orders of animals, such as insects, reptiles, and 
zoophites. The elephant, the horse, and the dog, are 
peculiarly intelligent : instinct in them, on many oc- 
casions, is subordinate to a mental capacity, approach- 
ing to the reasoning powers of man. Could the habits 
of all creatures be intimately known, it might be 
easy to trace the gradations from reason to pure in- 
stinct ; but the fierce inhabitants of the forest, and 
those that dwell m the depths of the ocean, besides 
numerous tribes that are driven by fear into the re- 


166 INSTINCT MODIFIED 


motest solitudes, are secluded from that notice which 
is requisite to ascertain the degrees of intelligence be- 
stowed upon them. But, from what is known, it ap- 
pears that the superior orders of quadrupeds, and es- 
pecially those that associate with man, are the most 
sagacious. Birds also enjoy this privilege very highly, 
when the protection of their young is concerned. Mr. 
Galton, in his very entertaining work on birds, re- 
marks, that blackbirds generally build low in bushes, 
or in trees that are not very high ; and he mentions 
an instance of a bird of this species, after having built 
its nest twice near the bottom of a hedge, and both 
hatches of its young falling a prey to cats, the third 
time she placed it in an apple-tree, eight feet from the 
ground. To what can this be attributed, but to the 
effects of experience and design? Mere instinct 
teaches finches that build in green hedges, to cover 
their habitations with green moss; the swallow, or 
martin, that builds against rocks or houses, to cover 
hers with clay; and the lark, to collect vegetable 
straw for the same purpose, as approaching to the co- 
lour of stubble, amongst which she builds. But should 
either of these birds change the colour of the material 
of their nests on account of a different situation, I 
should attribute that alteration to a higher principle, 
by varying the mode of compliance with the instincts 
of nature in assimilating the colour of birds’ nests to 


BY CIRCUMSTANCES, 167 


the situation in which they are generally placed ; but 
the deviation from the usual course would mark a 
choice, and therefore be superior to the natural impulse 
that guides the parent bird to build her nest after a 
peculiar manner. 

This subject has insensibly led me further than I 
intended: it is time to come to a conclusion, and bid 
you adieu. 

CAROLINE. 


168 FRIENDSHIP OF A HORSE AND DOG. 


LETTER XXI. 


FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


DEAR CAROLINE, 


One of my favourite amusements is riding on 
horseback: I have a white pony that carries me most 
agreeably, and is so tractable that I am not under the 
least apprehension when Iam upon him. As I have 
had him for these two years, I am much attached to 
him; but I shall love him better than ever, since I 
find that he is capable of friendship ; and, what isa still 
rarer quality, does not shrink from defending his 
friend in the hour of danger. My horse is grown ex- 
tremely fond of a little dog that lives with him in the 
same stable ; and whenever I nde, the dog runs along 
by the side of my pony. It happened yesterday, as 
the groom was leading the pony out for exercise, that 
they met a much larger dog, who very violently at- 
tacked the diminutive stranger ; upon which my horse 
rose on his hind legs, and, to the astonishment of the 
groom, so effectually fought his friend’s battle with his 
fore feet, that the aggressor scampered off in a cowardly 
manner, without any further attempt to renew the 


+ + rt 


A DOMESTICATED PEEWIT. 169 


attack.* I reflected on the circumstance, as a very 
extraordinary instance of deviation from the natural 
instincts of a horse, and related what had happened, 
to a circle of friends who had come to dinner. One 
gentleman paid more attention than the rest to my 
narrative, and allowed that, as a voluntary act, it was 
a very unusual instance of sagacity and affection ; but 
as a horse in a state of nature probably fights with 
his fore feet, it was rather a deviation from his domes- 
ticated habits than from his instincts. The friend- 
ship of animals of different species appears to me very 
extraordinary, as they can have no natural sympathy 
with each other ; and I suppose that it seldom takes 
place except in a domesticated state, in which many 
examples of it are to be found, even when there is a 
natural antipathy between them. I have read, some- 
where, of a peewit that was kept tame in a garden, 
but voluntarily took up its abode in the kitchen during 
the winter: it associated with a dog and a cat in the 
chimney-corner, and gradually became so familiar as 
to show marks of indignation if either of them inter- 
rupted him when he was washing himself in a basin 
of water kept for the dog to drink. 

Miss Seward, of Lichfield, who wrote Memoirs of 
Dr. Darwin, mentions a favourite cat that had been 


* The Most Rev. Dr. Plunket, Roman Catholic Bishop of 
Meath, was witness of this fact. 


170 ANIMAL ANTIPATHIES OVERCOME. 


broken of her propensity to kill birds, and lived seve- 
ral years without molesting a dove, a lark, and a red- 
breast, that were kept tame, and used to fly about 
the room where the cat was daily admitted. The 
dove frequently sat on pussy’s back, and the little 
birds would peck fearlessly from the same plate out 
of which she was eating. 

A gentleman at Belfast* had a dog that was re- 
markable for pursuing and destroying birds when 
abroad in the fields ; but he overcame this propensity 
so far as to allow a tame quail to run through 
the house with him, lie before the parlour fire be- 
side him, and when, from longer acquaintance, 
he had become more familiar, he suffered it to run 
over him, and seemed to look at it with great 
complacency, as if pleased that it trusted to his gene- 
rosity. 

Many creatures have carried this friendly dispo- 
sition much further than mere association; for I 
have heard of several instances of the young of one 
race being nourished and protected by a female of 
a different kind; nay, even when the strongest 
antipathy naturally subsisted between them. Mr. 
White, of Selbourne, asserts, that a cat suckled a 
hare, which followed her about the garden, and came 
jumping to her call of affection. 


* Mr. Templeton. 


ANIMALS REARED BY THE CAT. 174 


At Elford, near Lichfield, a hare big with young 
was shot: the young were taken from the mother 
alive, and the cat, who had just lost her own kittens, 
carried them away, as was supposed, to eat them ; 
but it appeared afterwards that she was excited by 
a different motive, for she suckled and adopted them 
as her own. 

It happened that some humane person, near Plais- 
tow, seeing a puppy struggling in a pond, drew it out 
half drowned: a cat, with truly maternal solici- 
tude, licked, cleaned, warmed, suckled, and recover- 
ed it.* 

Polito, in his menagerie, used to show a lion’s 
whelp, that had been brought up by a bitch, who, 
though much inferior to it in size, acquired authority 
over it. 

Cats seem particularly disposed to adopt the off- 
spring of a stranger ; but the most extraordinary in- 
stance that I have heard, was related to me by a 
lady,t who was an eye-witness of the fact. Her 
cat had a litter of kittens, that were kept in a hamper 
in the cellar. In order to please her children, she 
one day went down to see them. On looking into the 
hamper, she found a young rat amongst the kittens, 
which she ordered to be taken out. But the next 


* Related by William Darton. 
+ Mrs. Bell, of Putney Heath. 


172 A BADGER SUCKLED BY A CAT. 


day it was again found, a quiet inhabitant of the 
same place; and there was no doubt that the cat 
suckled it, and was disposed to bring it up with her 
own family. 

The Right Hon. George Ogle had a badger suckled 
by a cat, which had nearly endangered the life of its 
possessor; for he related the circumstance to Lord 
Muskerry, who showed marks of unbelief, which Mr. 
Ogle thought necessary to remove or resent as an 
impeachment of his veracity. He therefore sent his 
servant to Bellevue, in the county of Wexford, to 
fetch the badger, and convey both cat and badger 
to Lord Muskerry’s house in Dublin. His lordship 
immediately recollected the smile of contempt with 
which he had listened to Mr. Ogle’s recital, and en- 
tertained apprehensions of the consequence ; expect- 
ing that his next visitor would be some friend of 
Mr. Ogle’s, to demand an explanation of his be- 
haviour. He wisely gave a pleasant turn to the 
affair, by sending to the fish-market for one of the 
finest turbots that could be got, and regaling the bad- 
ger with it: he then retwmed the animal with this 
message: ‘ Give my thanks to your master, and tell 
him that his badger has feasted upon the best tur- 
bot that could this day be purchased in Dublin.” 
Mr. Ogle was well pleased with the welcome his 


EELS AND SALMON OF THE RIVER BAN. 173 


badger had received, joined in the laugh, and the affair 
ended happily, which might otherwise have had a 
serious termination. 

In return for your entertaining account of the eagles, 
I send you some particulars concerning the eels found 
in the river Ban, in the same part of Ireland, commu- 
nicated to Mr. Craven by a friend who resides in that 
kingdom. An amazing quantity of food is supplied 
to the people by the eels and the salmon of this river, 
which, at different seasons of the year, constitute a 
large share of the riches of the country around. The 
bounty of Providence has so ordered it, that the one 
migrates to the sea, when the other is prepared to 
ascend the stream; so that the great lake and shal- 
low rivers are always replenished with either the one 
or the other, as if they occupied their station alter- 
nately by agreement. They assemble to migrate, 
exactly as birds do, and seem to have the most exact 
intelligence of the time and the place of setting out, 
as well as that to which they direct their course: 
always returning, with the most umerring certainty, 
to the same river from which they had emigrated. 
The eel never attempts to descend until a flood arises, 
which, besides disturbing the transparency of the water, 
assists in forwarding the motion of the fish. They 
never proceed whilst the moon or stars are bright ; 


174 SINGULAR STRATAGEM OF EELS. 


but choose a dark, stormy night for their journey. 
One or two flashes of lightning will put a sudden stop 
to their advancement, when, in other respects, they 
are most completely arranged, and in a state of pre- 
paration. Numbers of them often gather them- 
selves into a very cunous ball of great magni- 
tude, and rolling down the stream in this order, 
break through the nets, and all other obstacles which 
impede their progress. The fishermen being aware of 
this stratagem, seek for these balls, and, after breaking 
them with poles, catch the eels in the nets with 
greater facility. After the parent fish have escaped to 
the sea, they do not return ; but the young eels ven- 
ture back, and show surprising instances of sagacity 
in finding the rivers, and pursuing their track. 

Your example, and that of the amiable Rachel, have 
reconciled me to the retirement of the country. You 
have taught me to find amusement where, formerly, 
my inattention overlooked those objects that now so 
greatly interest me. Natural history, that I consi- 
dered as the province of philosophers only, I find, 
is suited to every capacity; and it needs only to 
acquire the habit of observation, to find a charm in 
every plant, and throughout all the tribes of ani- 
mated nature. Not the minutest fly escapes me un- 
noticed: a frog, a spider, creatures that I once held in 


abhorrencé, now afford me entertainment, and daily 
' % 


GODS CARE OF HIS CREATURES. “#5 


teach me the sublime lesson, That every part of crea- 
tion displays striking marks of the wisdom and good- 
ness of the Deity ; who has amply provided for the 
enjoyment, as well as the preservation, of the mean- 
est of his creatures. 

The clock has struck eleven: I must retire to rest, 
after wishing you a good night. 


EMILY. 


176 ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE COINCIDENCES. 


LETTER XXII. ° 


FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


MY DEAR EMILY, 


NaturRE, indeed, opens a delightful book, 
abounding with novelties at every page, to those who 
will read in it. The ignorant, the stupid, and the 
inattentive, equally overlook its beauties : — those 
innumerable harmonies, that so loudly proclaim the 
benevolent designs of Him who has so largely pro- 
vided for the enjoyments as well as the mere ex- 
istence of all creatures—has adjusted their form 
and organs to their instincts, and fitted them exact- 
ly to fill up the situation in the material world in 
which he has placed them. 

St. Pierre has a passage, in his Studies of Nature, 
so applicable to my subject, that I cannot resist 
my inclination to quote it.* ‘ Nature has adapt- 
ed to plants, the smelling, the mouths, the lips, 
the tongues, the jaws, the teeth, the beaks, the 
stomachs, the chylification, and the secretions,—in a 


* Hunter’s translation, vol. i. p. 57. 
P 


’ 


POWER OF RHINOCEROS TO INFLATE HIS SKIN. 177 


word, the appetites and instincts of animals. Each 
one chooses that best adapted to its habits and con- 
stitution. Thus, the goldfinch frequents the thistle, 
because he finds a rampart in its prickly leaves, food 
in its seeds, and materials for his nest in its down. 
The bird-fly of Florida, for similar reasons, prefers 
the vignonia, This is a creeping plant, which finds 
its way to the tops of the highest trees, and frequent- 
ly covers the whole trunk. He builds his nest in 
one of its leaves, which he rolls into the form of 
a cornet: he finds his food in its red flowers, resem- 
bling those of the foxglove, the nectareous glands of 
which he licks: he plunges his little body into them, 
which appears, in the heart of the flower, like 
an emerald set in coral ; and he gets in sometimes so 
. far, that he suffers himself to be surprised there and 
caught.” 3 

The same author mentions other examples of these 
beautiful coincidences: one, in particular, occurs to 
my memory at this time. “ The rhinoceros, an in- 
habitant of the torrid zone, is clothed with a hide 
rolled up in several folds. This clumsy animal has 
the appearance of being invested with a threefold 
mantle ; but being destined to live in the miry mo- 
rasses of India, where he grubs up with his horny 
snout the long roots of the bamboo, he would have 
been in danger of sinking, from his enormous weight, 

N 


‘ 


178 ORGANIC STRUCTURE OF FISH. 


had he not been endowed with the strange fa- 
culty of extending, by blowing himself up, the 
multiplied folds of his skin, and of rendering him- 
self lighter in proportion to the space he stands 
upon.’’* 

The strong digestive powers of the dog’s stomach, 
is another instance of the same harmonious agreement. 
His appetite teaches him to swallow bones, which, 
though not ground into powder with his teeth, are 
presently softened and dissolved by the extraordinary 
power of the gastric juice of his stomach. 

The air-bladder peculiar to fishes, by the dilation 
or contraction of which they rise or sink at pleasure, 
enables them to live in an element that would be de- 
structive to most other animals, but which is their 
destined habitation. Their organs of sight and hear- 
ing differ from those of other creatures, but are adapt- 
ed, in a particular manner, to that medium through 
which they are obliged to see and hear. Their fins, 
as artfully contrived for swimming as the wings of 
birds for flying, display great variety of form, num- 
ber, situation, and force, according to the habits and 
wants of their owners. The size and shape of the 
mouths of fishes would, probably, go far to ascer- 
tain the kind of prey they feed upon, as there is no 


* Hunter’s translation of St. Pierre’s Studies of Nature, 
vol. i. p. 339. 


TEREDO, OR SHIP-WORM. 179 


doubt but each is fitted exactly to its purpose. That 
of the sturgeon is placed under the head, without 
teeth, like the opening of a purse, which he has the 
power of pushing suddenly out or retracting as he 
pleases. Before this mouth, under the beak or nose, 
hang four tendrils, some inches long, so strongly re- 
sembling earth-worms, that his prey is deceived by 
them, and approaching too near, he seizes and devours 
it. The teredo, or ship-worm, feeds upon wood, for 
which its calcareous jaws are admirably adapted. 
They frequently attack the keels of ships, and force 
their way so successfully into them as to endanger 
their safety. They bore their passage in the direc- 
tion of the fibres of the wood, and cannot return or 
pass obliquely ; consequently, a knot is fatal to them. 
Between the years 1731 and 1732, these minute in- 
vaders caused great alarm to the inhabitants of the 
United Provinces, by their numbers, lest they should 
materially injure the piles that support the banks of 
Zealand. 

Birds that feed on seeds and vegetables, resemble 
quadrupeds that eat grass, in the number of their 
stomachs, the length and size of their intestines, and 
the gentleness of their dispositions: whilst those crea- 
tures that prey upon others, whether birds or beasts, 
are armed with offensive weapons; such as claws, 
talons, horns, &c.: they are likewise endued with 


180 HERBIVOROUS AND CARNIVOROUS ANIMALS. 


great strength, and a ferocity of temper that is un- 
social and forbidding. The appetites and the con- 
struction of the animal agree together, and mark, in 
the most striking manner, the design of an Intelligent 
Being, who has formed each species to fill exactly 
that place in the universe where his wisdom has 
fixed it; and so necessary is every order of creatures, 
even those we call noxious, to the welfare of the 
whole, that, were any kind annihilated by acciden- 
tal circumstances, it would occasion a very injurious 
deficiency. This was experienced by the inhabitants 
of a certain district im Germany, who were annoyed 
by a great number of sparrows that ate their corn. 
The indignant farmers, determined to get rid of these 
voracious plunderers, offered a reward for their de- 
struction. The hope of the prize put so many hands 
to work, that, in a short time, the district was cleared 
of sparrows. But observe the consequence: the next 
year they were so overrun with caterpillars, that 
_they were obliged to procure sparrows to devour 
them. Thus it appears that every link is requisite to 
complete the chain ; that there is nothing superfluous, 
nothing deficient ; but that every part of this wonder- 
ful system depends upon each other, and is connected 
with the rest. 

I am led to these reflections by the sermon Mr. 
Palmer preached last Sunday, on the goodness of God, 


GENERAL DIFFUSION OF ANIMAL LIFE. 181 


displayed in the provision he has made for the hap- 
piness of all creatures, according to their capacities, 
and the rank they hold in creation ; rising from the 
insect, too minute for our inspection, to man. For 
our perception does not reach to the higher orders of 
created beings, whose felicity, doubtless, exceeds our 
comprehension as much as their nature is superior to 
ours. The gift of life, with its appropriate enjoy- 
ments, is infinitely diffused. The benevolent Crea- 
tor has bestowed it upon the innumerable creatures 
that inhabit our globe, which, though it contains 
countless millions, is but a minute speck in the uni- 
verse ; since astronomy teaches us that system upon 
system rolls in boundless space, at distances that no 
imagination can comprehend. Nor can the discoveries 
of man extend to that point where there is a cessation 
of new worlds. Every improvement in our glasses 
discovers stars that have escaped the former observa- 
tions of the most acute astronomers. Since all parts of 
our globe swarm with animal life—the earth, the water, 
the air, each abounding in its own peculiar inhabitants, 
can we hesitate to believe, that the other worlds, that 
are dispersed in the regions of unlimited space, are 
likewise peopled with innumerable multitudes of living 
creatures, all partaking of the bounty of the Universal 
Father, rejoicing in their being, and, by their existence, 
displaying his goodness? My heart swells with gra- 


182 PLEASURES DERIVED FROM THE SENSES. 


titude at the idea ; and though it is a task far beyond 
my powers to point out the individual instances that 
are daily before our eyes, yet I cannot resist mention- 
ing a few of those sources of enjoyment that are be- 
stowed upon ourselves, and which every person, who 
is in the full possession of his senses, is capable of ap- 
preciating. 

The pleasures of sight delight us from our earliest 
years ; and the whole visible world seems formed to 
eratify the eye. What beautiful effects are produced 
by the combination of the seven primary colours, dis- 
played in the various tribes of animals and vegetables 
that surround us on all sides! From these seven 
colours proceed innumerable tints and shades of exqui- 
site beauty and infinite variety. For our gratifica~ 
tion in this particular is consulted, not only by the 
different hues of green with which nature distinguishes 
the classes of trees and plants, but likewise by the 
variety of hues displayed on the same individual plant: 
the leaves are of one colour, whilst the stem or the 
empalement is of another. In a similar manner, the 
parts of the same animal are variously coloured. 
Birds and insects excel in this respect ; especially the 
latter. The wings of a butterfly, or the corselet of a 
rase-fly, may probably exhibit the assemblage of 
twenty colours, blended with the skill of an inimitable 
artist. 


MAN’S PECULIAR PLEASURES INTELLECTUAL. 183 


The gratification of every other sense is provided 
for in the same abundant manner: fragrant odours 
for the smell, and flavours for the taste. The vicis- 
situdes of winter and summer, spring and autumn, 
are a source of many pleasures, from the perpetual 
change that they occasion. These are all chiefly 
corporeal pleasures, and are enjoyed by man in com- 
mon with the inferior orders of animals. Man is a 
being of a mixed nature, and derives his principal 
satisfaction from sources of a higher kind. The de- 
lights peculiar to him are intellectual: the pleasures 
of remembrance, the anticipations of hope, the pur- 
suits of the understanding, the intercourse of friend- 
ship, the consolations of sympathy, the union of satis- 
faction with the exercise of virtue, especially the 
social and benevolent virtues; and, above all, the in- 
expressible recompense of a good conscience. These 
are the enjoyments bestowed upon us, with many 
others, by our beneficent Creator, in our present im- 
perfect state of existence, which is only a passage to a 
more complete state of felicity. If we contemplate 
our being, and that of creatures below us, in this point 
of view, the goodness of the great Creator in the diffu- 
sion of happiness is most striking, and calls for the 
unfeigned praise and gratitude of all rational beings. 

I have insensibly got into a very grave, but I hope 
not unwelcome strain, from the impression of Mr. 


184 . GODS GOODNESS INEFFABLE. 


Palmer’s eloquence, which, had you been present, 
would have much pleased you. 

My letter is protracted to a great length: I leave 
you to fill up my deficiencies upon the unlimited sub- 
ject of God’s goodness to his creatures, and wish you 


good night. 
CAROLINE, 


SUPERIOR INSTINCT OF CERTAIN ANIMALS. 180 


LETTER XXIII. 


FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


DEAR CAROLINE, 


I was so far from thinking your last letter too 
serious, that, I can assure you, it rather increased my 
usual cheerfulness, by the consideration that the whole 
universe is under the direction of a Being infinitely 
wise and good. Amongst the multitudes of proofs of 
his provision for the happiness of man in particular, 
may be reckoned the superior instinct, or rather saga- 
city of some animals, especially dogs, which frequently 
renders them extremely valuable, and puts them on a 
level with humble friends. I have lately heard two 
or three stories that do honour to the canine race ; 
and, though they are unconnected with each other, I 
think they will gratify your taste for such anecdotes, 
and shall therefore make no further apology for re- 
lating them. 

A little boy, about two years old, the son of a cot- 
tager, was accustomed to go with his parents when 
they went to work. One day, when their attention 
was engaged, he strayed to a rocky cliff at no great 
distance, where, it is supposed, that, being wearied by 


186 A CHILD FED BY A DOG. 


his endeavours to disentangle himself from the rocks 
and briers, he fell asleep, and by that means was over- 
looked by his parents, who, as soon as they missed 
him, made diligent search for him wherever they 
thought there was a probability of finding him ; but all 
their efforts were fruitless. They had nearly given up 
the hope of recovering their lost little one, and were 
on the point of yielding to the terrible necessity of 
losing him for ever without knowing his fate, when 
the dog belonging to the cottage was observed to go 
out with his food in his mouth; and this unusual act 
he repeated so often as to raise a suspicion that he had 
some extraordinary motive for doing so. Curiosity, 
and a faint hope that he had discovered what they had 
so ineffectually sought, determined them to follow him; 
when, to their inexpressible joy, by tracing his steps, 
they were led to their child; and, by the time they 
had got up to him, the dog was found giving the food 
to the boy, whom he had sustained in this manner for 
several days.* The attachment, the fidelity, and the 
sagacity of this animal, are beyond all praise. 

The courage of dogs is sometimes surprising. Cap- 
tain Beaufort, of his Majesty’s ship Blisson, relates an 
extraordinary instance of that quality in a dog which 


* This circumstance happened in Ireland. A_ story very 
similar is related in The Family Tour, which occurred to a 
shepherd in Scotland. 


A WHALE CHASED BY A DOG. 187 


was named after the vessel. ‘It happened,” says he, 
“ that a huge whale reared his unwieldy back out of 
the water, near the ship. Blisson barked: the whale, 
unused to such an attack, flapped the sea with his 
monstrous tail. Blisson was in an agony of ardour to 
be at him. The whale put his nostril to the water’s 
edge, and snorted a river into the air. Blisson could 
stand that no longer, but jumped into the sea from our 
quarter-deck, and chased him. Calling and roaring 
were of no use. Fortunately, the whale thought pro- 
per to dive, or my Blisson would have fared worse 
than Jonah.” 

Mr. Capel Lofft, of Troston Hall in Suffolk, had a 
dog that showed a most affectionate and tractable dis- 
position. This dog was of that kind called by Bewick 
the elegant terrier. The poor animal had by some 
chance met with a severe injury, and, in the agony it 
suffered, took refuge in Mr. Lofft’s court-yard. He 
was from home, and, from the spasms that affected the 
dog, the family apprehended he was mad. On Mr. 
Lofft’s retum, he discovered that the hurt was in the 
under jaw, and it was two years before it got well. 
Gratitude for kindness, at a moment when it was so 
much wanted, seemed to produce the most tender at- 
tachment in this dog. Mr. Lofft gained an extraordi- 
nary influence over him, and broke him of his propen- 
sity to seize rabbits and worry cats, merely by the 


188 DOCILITY AND ATTACHMENT OF A DOG. 


displeasure marked on his countenance, without beat- 
ing him. When he was most incensed against an 
unfortunate cat that happened to fall in his way, his 
master would snatch him up in his arms, and quiet 
him in an instant. Time rendered his attachment 
so strong, that it seemed as if no provocation could 
induce him to bite Mr. Lofft or the children. A dis- 
pute having, on some occasion, arisen between this 
gentleman and one of his little boys, after proper ex- 
postulation, he was attempting to put the child out of 
the room, who made resistance. The dog, seeing the 
bustle, supposed his master was going to beat the 
boy, and tried to pull him away by the skirts of his 
coat ; which pleasing action gave such a turn to the 
contest as to reconcile the father and son. 

The sensibility of this animal was also shown by 
his great fondness for music. He would sit for hours 
on a chair by the piano, listening to the soft strains of 
Clementi’s or Pleyel’s sonatas. And Mr. Lofft adds, 
that he has frequently seen him beat time with his 
tail whilst some favourite airs were playing. 

Men and dogs are not the only animals influenced 
by musical sounds. The horses at the equestrian thea- 
tres, which move in measured steps, are all taught by 
music. And extraordinary stories have been related 
of the attention of spiders to music, though they have 
not fallen under the observation of any person with 
whom I am acquainted. 


THE DOG OF MONTARGIS, 189 


My next example of canine virtue, if the expression 
may be allowed, is an historical record, and may have 
reached you before: ifit has not, it will give you plea- 
sure to see how far the animal feelings can approach 
to the moral virtue peculiar to rational and responsible 
beings ; and what a union of the most affectionate 
and the most hostile qualities can exist in the same 
creature, both springing from a noble, generous dispo- 
sition. ‘“ The fame of an English dog has been de- 
servedly transmitted to posterity by a monument in 
basso-relievo, which still remains on the chimney-piece 
of the grand hall at the castle of Montargis, in France, 
The sculpture, which represents a dog fighting with a 
champion, is explained by the following narrative. 
Aubri de Mondidier, a gentleman of family and for- 
tune, travelling alone through the forest of Bondi, was 
murdered, and buried under a tree. His dog, an 
English bloodhound, would not quit his master’s grave 
for several days, till at length, compelled by hunger, 
he proceeded to the house of an intimate friend of 
his unfortunate master’s at Paris, and, by his melan- 
choly howling, seemed desirous of expressing the loss 
they had both sustained. He repeated his cries, ran 
to the door, looked back to see if any one followed him, 
returned to his master’s friend, pulled him by the 
sleeve, and, with dumb eloquence, entreated him to go 
with him, The singularity of the dog’s behaviour, 


190 COMBAT BETWEEN 


added to the circumstance of his coming there without 
his master, whose faithful companion he had always 
been, prompted the company to follow the animal, 
who conducted them to a tree, where he renewed his 
howl, scratching the earth with his feet, significantly 
entreating them to search that particular spot. Ac- 
cordingly, on digging, the body of the unhappy Aubri 
was found. Some time after, the dog accidentally met 
the assassin, who is styled, by all the historians who 
relate this fact, the Chevalier Macaire, when, instantly 
seizing him by the throat, he was with great difficulty 
compelled to quit his prey. In short, whenever the 
dog saw the chevalier, he continued to attack and 
pursue him with equal fury. Such obstinate virulence 
in the animal, confined to Macaire alone, appeared very 
extraordinary, especially to those who at once recollect- 
ed the dog’s remarkable attachment to his master, and 
several instances in which Macaire’s envy and hatred 
to Mondidier had been conspicuous. Additional cir- 
cumstances increased suspicion, and at length the 
affair reached the royal ear. The king (Louis the 
Kighth) accordingly sent for the dog, who appeared ex- 
tremely gentle till he perceived Macaire in the midst 
of several noblemen, when he ran fiercely towards him, 
growling and attacking him as usual. 

« Tn those rude times, when no positive proof of a 
crime appeared, an order was issued for a combat be- 


THE DOG AND MURDERER. 191 


tween the accuser and the accused. These encounters 
were denominated the judgment of God, from a per- 
suasion that Heaven would rather work a miracle 
than suffer innocence to perish with infamy. The 
king, struck with such an accumulation of cireumstan- 
tial evidence against Macaire, determined to refer the 
decision to the chance of battle. In other words, he 
gave orders for a combat between the chevalier and 
the dog. The lists were appointed in the Isle of Notre 
Dame, then an uninclosed, uninhabited place. Ma- 
caire’s weapon being a great cudgel, the dog had an 
empty cask allowed for his retreat, to enable him to 
recover breath. Everything being prepared, the dog 
no sooner found himself at liberty than he ran round 
his adversary, avoiding his blows, and menacing him 
on every side till his strength was exhausted ; then, 
springing forward, he griped him by the throat, threw 
him on the ground, and obliged him to confess his guilt, 
in the presence of the king and the whole court. In 
consequence of which, after a few days, the chevalier 
was convicted upon his own acknowledgment, and be- 
headed on a scaffold in the Isle of Notre Dame.” This 
curious narrative is translated from the Mémoires sur 
les Duels ; and is confirmed by many judicious criti- 
cal writers, particularly Julius Scaliger and Montfau- 
con, neither of whom has been regarded as a fabrica- 
tor of idle stories. 


192 CONSCIENCE DISARMS THE MURDERER. 


The fate of the chevalier affords not only a striking 
example of sagacity, nearly approaching to reason, in 
a dog; but also teaches the impressive lesson, that the 
conscious guilt of a murderer disarms the boldest 
villain from defending himself; and that this hor- 
rid crime, however privately committed or artfully 
concealed, seldom fails of discovery, and often by 
means the least likely to produce such an effect. 

Your faithful friend, 
EMILY. 


STORY OF A SHEPHERD’S DOG. 193 


LETTER XXIV. 


FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


MY DEAR EMILY, 


THat I may make some return for the 
amusement your canine anecdotes have afforded me, I 
will relate the feats of a simple dog or two, of low de- 
gree, when compared with your heroic avenger of his 
master’s wrongs. 

A-gentleman, with whom my aunt was formerly 
acquainted, occupied a farm in a remote district of 
Scotland, and had a dog of the genuine colly, or 
shepherd’s breed, named Gashkan, which signifies 
a hero, or my hero: this dog attached himself to 
one of the servants employed in the farm, who, 
being married, was boarded out of the house ; 
but times growing hard, and his master indulgent, 
William and Gashkan often got a good dinner in 
the farm-house kitchen; the former by invitation, 
the latter by permission. Thus, dinner being 
ready became a matter of consequence to Gash- 
kan ; and such was his observation, that he soon 

0 


194 A DOG TRAINED TO GO ON ERRANDS. 


learned to distinguish the signals of preparation. 
When it was near the time of summoning the ser- 
vants together, a large pot of broth was set down on 
the hearth, and a long trivet table, usually raised 
up to the wall to make room, was let down; then 
the dairy-maid gave a loud call at the door, which 
was answered by the servants from the fields, and 
whilst they were on their way, she made every thing 
ready for their reception. 

The men knew, by the shadows on the moun- 
tains, when the time drew near; and if one of them 
grew impatient, he would say, “Go, Gashkan, 
see if dinner be ready.” Gashkan set off instantly. 
If, on looking in at the door, he saw the pot on 
the hearth, and the table let down, he ran back with 
great alacrity, licked his lips, wagged his tail, and 
frisked about his master; but if he saw no prepara- 
tion in the kitchen, he went slowly back, with his 
tail and ears drooping ; and when asked if dinner was 
ready, slunk sheepishly behind his master. All this 
the servants understood, as well as if he had delivered 
a message.* 


Mrs. Palmer’s eldest sister is settled in America: 


* Mrs. Grant, author of ‘‘ Letters from the Mountains,” 
‘* The American Lady,” &c. has obligingly furnished me with 
this, and several other curious anecdotes. 


INGRATIATING AMIABILITY OF A DOG. 195 


she has been married several years to a gentleman 
who cultivates a large tract of land in a remote 
situation. This mode of life gives her an oppor- 
tunity of observing the manners of animals in a 
wild state; and as she is a naturalist, and knows 
Mr. Palmer’s taste, she does not fail to enrich her 
letters with much information that is novel and in- 
teresting. In her last, she gives the history and 
character of a favourite dog of a mixed breed, whose 
parents might have been supposed to be a Newfound- 
land and a colly, had the latter kind been in 
America. “ This dog,’* says Mrs. Mackenzie, 
“possessed the most amiable disposition, and was 
always on the watch to please, which made her a 
general favourite. — Thus she lived, caressing and 
caressed. She was very useful in driving cattle off 
the bounds, and every other kind of service that such 
animals are accustomed to be employed in about a 
farm. The man-servant who lived with Mr. Mac- 
kenzie at this time, was of a rough, tyrannical temper, 
and often treated this fine creature very harshly ; 
sending her to great distances, to save his own trouble, 
and beating her most severely for every mistake. Her 
patience and attachment, notwithstanding this beha- 
viour, were astonishing. 


* I was supplied with this account by Mrs. Grant. 


196 CANINE PATIENCE. 


“ After some time she had puppies, of which she 
was fond beyond expression. The servant being 
allowed to drown some of the puppies, pretended 
to understand the permission in a general sense, 
and destroyed them all. It is supposed, that his 
motive for this conduct was to prevent her from 
being detained from following and assisting him. 
In order to make you acquainted with the detail of 
her business, it must be premised, that the small 
extent of cultivated ground on Mr. Mackenzie’s 
farm, was surrounded by a slight fence of wattled 
touch-wood, which was easily injured. Therefore, 
the first task in the morning, and the last at night, 
was to drive the wild cattle and horses from the 
vicinity, to a great distance in the woods, lest they 
should break these frail enclosures. Dugald, know- 
ing the docility of his companion, trusted to her ex- 
ertions for the performance of this duty, without 
stirring himself from the bounds. When she had 
driven them away, she would return, and look meek- 
ly in his face for approbation ; but his usual reward 
was threats, frowns, and vociferations ; upon which 
she would immediately set out again, and scour the 
woods without stopping, till she had driven the 
objects of her pursuit to an incredible distance. 
On returning a second time, breathless and ex- 
hausted, she would fawn on her tyrant, before she 


DOG'S DISTRESS AT LOSS OF ITS YOUNG. 197 


lay down to rest, and look up to him, with speaking 
eyes, for a token of approbation, which, if obtained, 
transported her with joy. Yet this gentle crea- 
ture, so docile, patient of injury, and grateful for 
kindness, would, in defence of her master, and in 
obedience to his commands, attack the largest ani- 
mal with courageous alacrity, and seemed insensi- 
ble of fear, when any duty was to be performed. 
Miss Mackenzie, who was at this time about eleven 
years old, had several favourite animals, on whom 
she bestowed much attention ; amongst these, Zara 
and a cat held the first place, of whom you shall 
hear more in the sequel. For some days after 
Zara missed her puppies, she went about moaning 
piteously, and seemed inconsolable. Her young 
mistress observed, with great concern, that, in ad- 
dition to her maternal sorrows, this poor dog suffer- 
ed much from the distention of her teats, which it 
was not easy to relieve; but, being very fond of her, 
she contrived to press out the milk with her fingers. 
The grateful dog testified her thanks for this ser- 
vice, by signs and gestures that made speech unne- 
cessary. Zara had chosen a retreat for depositing 
her offspring, that, no doubt, appeared to her secure 
from invaders. A large house, near her master’s, 
had been burned down: the sunk story remained 
full of rubbish ; and there, in the oven which had 


198 SINGULAR ACTIONS OF A CAT. 


belonged to the ruined kitchen, Zara’s puppies were 
lodged. 

“‘ The cat, who was a great favourite also till she be- 
came a mother, when the new duties she had to ful- 
fil made Miss Mackenzie more attentive to her pro- 
pensities, had kittens much about the same time. 
The young lady then perceived a degree of levity and 
cruelty in her cat, that had before escaped her obser- 
vation. She neglected her usual occupation of mouse- 
catching in the cellar, and lay on the top of the 
house, watching for bats, all the evening. Not con- 
tented with this equivocal game, the bee-catcher, the 
gentle wren, and even the sacred swallow, were 
taken and devoured in the presence of her tender- 
hearted mistress, who tried every means to correct 
her voracious disposition. She confined her, she 
crammed her, and beat her with a dead bird, but 
still these atrocities were repeated. The appearance 
of the young family delighted Miss Mackenzie: she 
now determined to feed her well, and hoped she 
would assume a more domestic character, and live 
once more on milk and mice. Every preparation for 
the comfort of the little strangers was anticipated, and 
an excellent bed was made ready in the garret ; but 
the cat, suspicious of the officious visits of her mis- 
tress, carried her young ones to a high projection near 
the roof, that had been intended for a pigeon-house. 


KITTENS ADOPTED BY A DOG. 199 


After having conveyed them out of the reach of 
Miss Mackenzie’s kind offices, she would frequently 
abandon them for a whole day, climbing the tops 
of high trees in pursuit of wild game; whilst the 
éries of the little ones distressed her young mistress, 
as she was unable to afford them any assistance. The 
only means she had of diverting her chagrin, was in 
administering relief to poor Zara: but this amuse- 
ment soon failed, for Zara disappeared, except when 
her services were required. The servants complained 
of strange noises in the garrets of a night, and the cat 
totally deserted her post. In this state of affairs, 
Miss Mackenzie frequently listened for the plaintive 
cries of the neglected little ones ; but all was silent, 
and she was tormented with the idea that they had 
perished with hunger, aggravated by  self-reproach 
for not having borrowed a ladder for their deliverance. 
Two days afterwards, she saw Zara coming out of 
the oven, as happy as possible, and observed that she 
did not come, as usual, to be relieved of her milk: 
the same thing happened several times, and at length 
curiosity induced Miss Mackenzie, with much difficul- 
ty, to descend to her retreat. She found her stretch- 
ed at length in the great oven, and the five kittens 
sucking her with all their might; for her teats were 
so large, that they were obliged to stretch their mouths 
to the utmost, to effect their purpose. She brought 


200 SAGACITY OF 


up the whole litter: but whether their disposition was 
influenced by the nourishment of a foster-mother, is 
not mentioned.” 

Was it compassion, or the strong impulse of mater- 
nal tenderness, seeking an object to satisfy it, that 
overcame the instinctive aversion subsistmg between 
dogs and cats? It is also difficult to discover by what 
means Zara knew that the kittens were lodged in a 
place to which she was supposed a total stranger ; or, 
that they were abandoned by their mother; and last- 
ly, how such a large, heavy animal, could mount to so 
great a height, and convey the helpless creatures down. 
I can find no solutions to these enigmas: but such was 
the fact. Your ingenuity may probably account for 
them. I leave them to your consideration, and shall 
conclude this letter with one more short anecdote. 

A lady who resided in Waterford, was in the con- 
stant habit of sending all her servants to a place of 
public worship in the afternoon of a Sunday. Orders 
were given that the kitchen fire should be made up, 
and the boiler put on to heat water for tea. One Sun- 
day afternoon, as the family were sitting in the par- 
lour, a little terrier, that belonged to the youngest 
daughter, came into the room, barking in an unusual 
manner, addressing herself, with dumb eloquence, to 
the mistress of the house, with whom she was sel- 
dom familiar. This drew general attention, and ex- 


A LITTLE TERRIER. 204 


cited a degree of alarm: the lady’s curiosity being 
excited, she rose, and followed Fidele, who con- 
ducted her to the kitchen, where she found the 
boiler overturned, and the water streaming about the 
floor. 
I am, with sincere attachment, your 
CAROLINE. 


roo) 
i=) 
ra) 


VAST DISTANCES 


LETTER XXV. 


FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
DEAREST CAROLINE, 


Your story of Zara’s adopting the kittens, so 
well authenticated and so extraordinary, prepares my 
mind for any instances of adoption that may be re- 
lated by persons of credit. The power of finding their 
way back from vast distances, to a place to which they 
have been accustomed, which is possessed by various 
kinds of creatures, 1s a wonderful faculty, and in 
many cases seems unaccountable ; nor do I think that 
the penetration of man can discover by what sense 
they are guided. Cats seem to excel in this unknown 
quality, though it is bestowed in different degrees on 
many other creatures. 

Mr. Craven has a cat * that he calls the traveller. 
It belonged to his brother, who lived at Old Bromp- 
ton, near London. A friend of this gentleman’s, who 
was then going as master of a vessel to the West 
Indies, took a liking to this cat. She was given to 
him as a token of remembrance, and was carried from 
Old Brompton, through London, put on board the 


* The owner of this cat was Mr. R. Whitley, who lived at 
Old Brompton, near London. 


TRAVELLED BY CATS. 203 


ship, had performed the voyage, and returned to the 
wharf whence she set out. Inall this long peregrina- 
tion, she did not forget the home that had nourished 
her, nor the haunts to which she was attached. She 
took the earliest opportunity of making her escape, 
and finding her way through the intricate turnings and 
windings of the metropolis, arrived safe at her former 
residence, to the great surprise of all the family. 

Had you or I been hastily carried, for the first 
time, through London, we could not have traced back 
our course, even the next day ; whilst this cat must 
have remembered every turning, at the distant period 
of many months. 

Mr. Craven relates another incident,* very similar 
to this. He knew a female cat belonging to Mrs. Far- 
quarson, which was removed from Sampford Hall, near 
Saffron Walden in Essex, to -Yosely Bridge in Hamp- 
shire, and, impelled by that invincible attachment to 
places, which is one of the characteristics of the cat 
kind, returned, as is supposed, through London, to the 
protection of her kind benefactress at Sampford Hall. 

These feats are so far beyond any sagacity that I 
possess, that Iam quite impatient to have my curio- 
sity resolved upon the subject. Pray tell Mr. Palme: 
he is my oracle in natural history, and that I request 
he will explain in what this strange faculty consists. 


* On the authority of Mr. Arthur Young. 


204 DOMESTICATED WILD-FOWL. 


In imitation of your example, I spend some time 
every morning in the poultry-yard, which my indul- 
gent father has fitted up in a very complete style, 
and peopled it with a great variety of domestic fowl, 
to gratify my taste. Amongst others, I have several 
wild-fowl that are grown tame : to these I pay parti- 
cular attention, as I suppose their natural habits less 
changed than those which have been domesticated for 
many generations. The same diversity of disposition 
seems to prevail amongst the inferior classes of ani- 
mals as amongst men. Some of the same kind are 
gentle and timid, whilst others possess a great portion 
of courage: and I have observed, that there is a kind 
of common language between the different species of 
these wild-fowl ; for the cry expressive of danger is 
communicated from one to another, and understood 
by all. I have a favourite widgeon, so tame that 
it follows me all over the yard: as I was scattering 
the corn this morning, a hawk hovered in sight, 
upon which a common hen gave the scream of 
terror, and the widgeon perfectly comprehending 
that an enemy was at hand, fled to me for pro- 
tection, and remained crouched close to my feet till 
all apprehension of danger was past.* 

One of my hens has surprised me very much, as 


* Related by Mr. Templeton. 


A HORSE TRAINED TO FEIGN DEATH. 205 


she appears to have acted more from experience than 
instinct. Before I was aware of her design, the 
dairy-maid had set her on a clutch of duck-eggs: 
when they were hatched, she showed the usual anx- 
iety at their going into the water, and made a very 
attentive, good mother. Her next brood was chick- 
ens, which, I suppose, from recollection of the success 
of her former charge, she immediately led to the 
water: in consequence of this mistake, they were 
drowned.* 

During a few days’ stay in London, I went to see 
the entertainment of the Blood Red Knight, at Ast- 
ley’s Riding Theatre, in which a horse is introduced, 
that mimics death so completely, that he suffers him- 
self to be handled and examined, without showing the 
least voluntary motion, or any symptoms of life or 
feeling. The docility of this creature, and the skill 
of his teachers, are truly astonishing ; but not more 
so than that of some elephants belonging to Rayobah, 
an Asiatic chief, once in alliance with the English.t 

The elephants form a necessary and important ap- 
pendage to a Mahratta camp, and are attended with 
the greatest care, and fed on the choicest food, even 


* Mrs. Smith, of Parndon. 

+ Communicated by James Forbes, Esq. to whom I owe many 
obligations, for miscellaneous observations scattered in this 
work. 


206 STORY OF 


in times of scarcity, particularly when on hard ser- 
vice. Besides their vegetable diet, they are fed with 
rich balls, called massaulla, composed of spices, sugar, 
butter, and other expensive ingredients, especially in 
a camp, where every thing was extravagantly dear. 
This rich food was necessary both for the elephants 
and choice Arab horses, in a country every where 
laid waste and destroyed by the enemy, and affording 
but little provender. A scarcity of food, therefore, 
for man and beast, is no uncommon circumstance in 
warlike expeditions in India. But, however others 
might suffer from want of daily sustenance, there was 
an ample allowance for the favourite elephants of the 
Mahratta sovereign ; yet they pined away, and grew 
emaciated without any apparent cause. At length 
the keepers were suspected of defrauding them of 
their massaulla; as the delicacies in these balls com- 
posed likewise the most expensive and savoury parts 
of the pilaus, curries, and other dishes eaten by the 
Moguls, and too costly for persons in their situation 
to purchase. The Master of the Elephants, who, like 
the Master of the Horse in Europe, is generally a man 
of rank, then appointed inspectors to see them fed, and 
the elephants regained their strength, and, for a time, 
appeared in good condition. But in a few months 
they fell off again, to the great astonishment of the 
inspectors, who daily saw them fed, frequently ex- 


INDIAN WAR ELEPHANTS. 207 


amined the massaulla, and found the ingredients of 
the best quality. At length the cheat was discover- 
ed, and shows the extraordinary influence the keep- 
ers had obtained over these docile animals. They 
taught them, in the inspectors’ presence, to receive 
the balls, and to put them into their mouths with 
their trunk, but to abstain from eating them: and 
these tractable creatures actually had that command 
over themselves, that they received this food, of 
which they are so remarkably fond, and placed it in 
their mouths, but never chewed it; and the balls 
remained untouched until the inspectors withdrew ; 
they then took them out carefully with their trunks, 
and presented them to the keepers, accepting such a 
share only as they were pleased to allow them. 

This story was related to me by that cousin of 
Lord Ormond’s, who lately returned from the East 
Indies, where he has resided many years. His name 
is Hervey: he is a man of an agreeable person, 
engaging manners, and great observation. From him 
I have collected several anecdotes of animal biogra- 
phy, that will entertain you when I have leisure to 
repeat them. He is a frequent visitor at Belvoir 
Lodge, and I am mistaken if, in spite of Charlotte’s 
ambition, he has not made an impression on her 
heart that it will be difficult for her to efface. It 
will be a happy circumstance if this attachment has 


v 
208 DOCILITY OF ELEPHANTS. 


a beneficial influence in correcting her faults, and 
improving her character. It is a favourable symptom, 
that she listens patiently to his friendly hints, though 
she is indignant towards any body else who takes the 
liberty of pointing out her faults. 

Mr. Hervey had an elephant ‘ of which he was 
very fond; it had carried him many a long march, 
and had attached him to it by the sweetness of its 
disposition. If he wished to enjoy a prospect, he 
had only to speak, and the elephant remained im-. 
movable till he gave it the signal to proceed. If he 
had a desire for the ripe mangoes that grew on the 
upper branches, it advanced to that part of the 
tree, and, breaking off the most fruitful bough 
with his trunk, he offered it to the driver, for the 
company in his houdah; and if he received any part 
for his trouble, he accepted it with a profound re- 
spect, making a sa/aam, or obeisance, three times, 
with his trunk raised to the top of his head, in 
the manner of the oriental salute; and as often did 
he articulate his thanks by a murmuring noise,—his 
mode of expressing his gratitude. When a branch 
seemed likely to intercept the houdah, he twisted 
his trunk around it, and, although several feet in 
circumference, he broke it off with ease. This gen- 
tle animal was accustomed to visit his master at 


* Mr. Forbes’s account of his own elephant. 


THEIR USEFUL PROPERTIES. 209 


the tent-door during breakfast, to be treated with a 
little sugar-candy from his tea-cup ; and no spaniel 
can be more innocently playful, or fonder of those who 
take notice of him, than this docile animal was. 
These creatures are highly valued in the oriental part 
of the world, both as appendages to royal pomp, and 
for their many useful qualities in peace and war. 
In a camp they only carry the thrones and castles 
of the sovereign and his principal officers; and are 
sometimes kept in rich caparisons, merely for parade, 
They are a common present among the Asiatic 
princes and generals of high rank. When properly 
disciplined, they know their duty, and are as obe- 
dient to the word of command as a rational being. 
On emergencies, they can travel two hundred miles 
in forty-eight hours; and will hold out for a con- 
siderable time at forty miles a day. Some of the 
largest of them are from eleven to twelve feet high. 
They are mostly of a dark grey colour, nearly black ; 
but the face is generally painted with a variety 
of tints: and the tails and legs of the favourite 
horses belonging to the wealthy Indians are dyed of 
a crimson or orange colour. The elephant bred to 
war will stand firm against a shower of musket-balls, 
and will never give way unless mortally wounded. 
Mr. Hervey has seen an elephant* with upwards of 


* From Mr. Forbes’s account. 


210 ELEPHANT IN A STATE OF ANGER. 


thirty bullets lodged in the fleshy part of his body, but 
perfectly recovered from the wounds. All are not 
equally docile. When an enraged elephant turns 
round to retreat, nothing can withstand its fury ; the 
driver has no longer a command, and friends and foes 
are involved in undistinguished ruin. 

Such is Mr. Hervey’s account of this noble animal, 
which, coming from an eye-witness, I thought would 
be particularly acceptable to you and your Cambrian 
friends, to whom I desire my regards. 

EMILy. 


AMIABLE QUALITIES OF ANIMALS. Pale 


LETTER XXVI. 


FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 


DEAR EMILY, 


I sHoULD not have written so soon, had not 
I met with a circumstance that I think worth your 
notice ; as it is a striking confirmation of a pleasing 
truth that I have long cherished, though without 
daring to assure myself that the thing existed, as 
it seems to bring animals too much on a level with 
human creatures. I am now convinced that, though 
the brute creation is not capable of acting virtuously 
from a principle of duty, and that grand stimulus 
that man enjoys, of the hope of a future reward, they 
are, nevertheless, often endowed with virtuous dis- 
positions, such as gratitude, attachment, docility, and 
other amiable propensities, of which I give you the 
following example. 


A farmer* in our neighbourhood had a bull so 


* The facts here related are taken from the Monthly Maga- 
zine for October 1810. 


242 A FEROCIOUS BULL RECONCILED 


wild and ferocious, that he was kept constantly 
chained, except when led to water, &c. at which 
time he was never suffered to be out of the hands 
of a trusty person. This animal seemed to have 
conceived a particular antipathy against the farmer’s 
brother, who assisted him in his business, and had 
probably irritated him on some occasion, without 
being aware of the consequences. He never saw 
him approach the open shed in which he was kept, 
without beginning to bellow most dreadfully, which 
he continued as long as the object of his dislike was 
in view ; at the same time tearing up the earth with 
his horns, and showing every symptom of the utmost 
aversion. On two occasions, while leading to water, 
he very cunningly watched an opportunity, and en- 
deavoured to make a sudden spring out of the hands 
of his attendant at his enemy, who was standing in 
the yard. 

While the bull was under the influence of hos- 
tility and resentment, one of the most tremendous 
thunder-storms ever remembered in this country oc- 
curred. The lightning resembled sheets of fire, and 
each flash was instantly succeeded by a thunder- 
clap as loud as if a volley of ten thousand cannon 
had been discharged. The piteous roarings of the 
bull during this convulsion of the elements were 
quite affecting. Being exposed in an open shed to 


TO THE OBJECT OF ITS HOSTILITY. ITS 


all the fury of the storm, he sent forth, every in- 
stant, a yell of terror hideous beyond description. 
Imagining that it was the lightning that chiefly 
alarmed the animal, the farmer proposed to the men- 
servants to go and remove him into the barn, but 
in vain: they were so much terrified at their 
own danger, that the roarings of the bull made no 
impression upon them, nor could any of them be 
persuaded to move. The farmer’s brother, who is 
a humane, generous young man, undertook the task, 
facing at once the double danger of the lightning 
and the fury of the bull. He accordingly put on 
his great-coat, and went into the yard. The mo- 
ment he approached the bull, which he found lying, 
trembling, on his back, having almost torn his chain 
through the gristle of his nose in his efforts to get 
loose, he rose, and, by his fawning actions, express- 
ed the delight he felt at the sight of any thing hu- 
man amidst such a scene of terror. Fear had dis- 
armed him of his ferocity: with the utmost quiet- 
ness he suffered himself to be untied and led to the 
barn, by the very man whom, a few hours before, 
he would have torn in pieces if he could have got at 
him. 

The next morning, as his deliverer was cross- 
ing the yard, he remarked that the bull, which 
had been replaced in his shed, no longer saluted 


214. TREATMENT OF ANIMALS. 


him with his accustomed bellow. It struck him 
that the animal might remember his kindness to 
him the night before. He accordingly ventured, 
by degrees, to approach him; and found that now, 
so far from showing any dislike to him, he suffer- 
ed him, with the utmost gentleness, to scratch 
his head. And, from that very day, he has con- 
tinued to him as tame as a lamb; suffering him 
to play all manner of tricks with him, which no 
other person about the farm dares attempt, and 
seeming even to take pleasure in being noticed by 
him. 

A more striking instance of a sudden transition 
from hatred to affection can scarcely be found, and 
one in which the cause was so clearly marked. It was 
not the change of caprice, but of something like rea- 
son, arising from gratitude to a benefactor. A prac- 
tical lesson may be derived from this anecdote — 
that even the most savage dispositions may be sub- 
dued by gentle treatment. And yet, how seldom 
it is attempted to manage animals by any thing but 
harshness! Does this arise from inhumanity, igno- 
rance, thoughtlessness, or the love of tyrannic sway ? 
From each of these causes, I believe; and sorry I 
am to say, that the same injudicious system is often 
exercised towards children, whose tender disposi- 
tions are changed to perverseness and obstinacy by 


AFFECTION OF A LINNET. 215 


the use of the rod. Mrs. Saville often says, that 
blows never eradicated a vicious propensity: they 
teach the dear innocents to deceive from fear, but 
not to correct themselves; and since she has been a 
parent, she has never been known to give even a 
hasty slap. The amiable character of my dear Ra- 
chel is the best proof of the excellence of her senti- 
ments on this subject. The equality of her own tem-~ 
per enables her to govern that of others, without the 
necessity of recurring to severity. But I have almost 
lost sight of my original subject—the virtuous dispo- 
sition of animals. JI have already given you an in- 
stance of gratitude, I will now entertain you with 
one of affection. 

In the spring of 1803, Miss T. in compliance with 
the request of a little boy, who had attempted to 
rear a nest of grey linnets, took the only survivor 
under her protection. For some days she kept the 
little bird in her bosom, to supply the warmth of 
its nest, and fed it frequently with the most deli- 
cate and nourishing food; and at night, instead of 
placing it in a cage, she laid it on the pillow, close 
to her face, and rose at daybreak to give it food. 
In short, she accomplished her task by the most 
assiduous care, and soon had the satisfaction of 
seeing her little charge able to feed itself and sit 
on the perch. This kindness was repaid by the 


216 ATTACHMENTS AND ANTIPATHIES 


strongest attachment on the part of the bird. Ex- 
cept when he was feeding, he sat continually on 
her head or her shoulder; and if she left him but 
for a short time, he would instantly fly to her with 
expressions of joy, hover round her in ecstasy, and 
warble to the utmost stretch of his voice; then 
fly to her lips, and kiss them with transport. In 
a few months, being obliged to leave Ireland, she 
offered, though reluctantly, to resign her favourite, 
which she had named Ariel, to. his first owner. The 
little boy, sensible of the pains she had taken, and 
the attachment she had formed, generously made 
her a present of the bird, which she brought with 
her to England. 

Ariel continued to show her, every day, if pos- 
sible, stronger marks of attachment, not unmixed 
with jealousy; for if she was absent for a day 
or two, which sometimes unavoidably happened, 
he appeared dull and discontented, and seldom sang: 
yet the moment he heard her voice, or even her 
step, at a distance, which he distinguished from every 
other, he would fly to her with delight; but, as 
if recollecting that she had offended him, he would 
scold her, which he does whenever any thing dis- 
pleases or frightens him, and be sullen for a long 
while, sitting on his perch in a fit of ill-humour. 
When his anger was abated, he would try to make 


OF A LINNET. 217. 


amends for his displeasure, by kissing her lips, and 
feeding her with the seeds he had shelled, or throw- 
ing up from his maw the food he had previously 
swallowed, putting it into her mouth with his bill, as 
if she had been a young bird ; then he would settle on 
her shoulder, and remain there without attempting 
to regain his liberty, though she sometimes ventured 
into the garden with him in that situation. After 
staying three years in England, Miss T. returned to 
Ireland, and carried her favourite with her, who is 
still living, and as fond of his mistress as ever. He 
is prone to take dislikes to strangers, especially if 
meanly dressed ; and he never fails to testify it by 
scolding like a parrot ; and when he has once shown 
symptoms of aversion, nothing can overcome it, but 
he repeats the same sounds upon the appearance of 
the person, whom he recognises though in a different 
dress. He has a great abhorrence of scarlet or full 
red, and seems terrified at a red coat, a shawl, or a 
standard of colours.* 

This extraordinary account proves that birds are 
capable of attachment towards particular persons ; 
a quality that renders them as amiable as they are 
beautiful. In those species that form permanent 


* These circumstances were authenticated by a lady of re- 
spectable character. 


218 AFFECTION OF A PEACOCK TO HIS MATE. 


attachments of the conjugal kind, the instances of 
affection towards their mates are so striking, and so 
numerous, that it would be an endless task to par- 
ticularize them; but I cannot resist mentioning one 
that happened under my own eye since I have been 
in Wales. Mrs. Saville had a pair of beautiful pea- 
fowls, that were the chief ornaments of her poultry- 
yard, and remarkably fond of each other. It hap- 
pened, unluckily, that a fox, who had been for 
some time the depredator of the neighbouring hen- 
roosts, found his way into our yard, and, in an un- 
guarded moment, seized the poor peahen, and carried 
her off. The robber, by some accident, being dis- 
turbed in his flight, left his prey undevoured in the 
hedge at the bottom of the orchard. The body 
being found, was brought home, and after being 
honoured by the lamentations of the whole family, 
was deposited upon the dunghill. In the mean 
time, the peacock missed his companion, and with 
anxious search paraded about the yard, till at last 
he discovered her remains, and, no doubt hoping 
to cherish her with his warmth, sat down upon them, 
and continued his post for three days, till, finding 
all his efforts ineffectual, he at length gave up the at- 
tempt. 

Dogs have frequently watched by their masters’ 


THE DOG OF ULYSSES. 219 


graves, but I know no other example of a bird’s main- 
taining the same constancy after death. 

Homer relates that the dog of Ulysses recognised 
his master, though disguised in the garb of a beg- 
gar, and was so overpowered with joy, that he ex- 
pired at his feet. The incident was probably the 
creation of the poet’s imagination; but he wrought 
his interesting narrations on the undeviating laws 
of nature, or his immortal works would not have 
afforded such exquisite delight to so many suc- 
ceeding generations. Therefore, though uncommon, 
it is not improbable that a dog should die through 
excess of joy at the return of a beloved master, 
after an absence of several years. As you may 
prefer the story in verse, I give you the following 
lines. 


‘* When wise Ulysses, from his native coast 
Long kept by wars, and long by tempests tost, 
Arriv’d at last, poor, old, disguis’d, alone, 

To all his friends and e’en his queen unknown : 

In his own palace fore’d to ask his bread, 

Scorn’d by those slaves his former bounty fed, 

Forgot of all his own domestic crew, 

The faithful dog alone his master knew. 

Unfed, unhous’d, neglected, on the clay, 

Like an old servant, now cashier’d, he lay ; 

And though e’en then expiring on the plain, 

Touch’d with resentment of ungrateful man, ' 
And longing to behold his ancient lord again, 


ros) 
rhs) 
=) 


THE DOG OF ULYSSES. 


Him when he saw, he rose, and crawl’d to meet, 
°*Twas all he could, and fawn’d, and kiss’d his feet : 
Seiz’d with dumb joy, then falling by his side, 
Own’d his returning lord, look’d up, and died.” 


The close of evening compels me to terminate 


my letter, with assurances of undiminished affec- 
tion. 


CAROLINE. 


rh) 
ros) 
— 


ANECDOTE OF MONKEYS. 


LETTER XXVII. 


FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 


DEAR CAROLINE, 


Mr. Hervey is often at the Lodge: he takes 
pleasure in entertaining us with an account of the 
productions of India, and, as natural history is his 
favourite study, the instincts or sagacity of the ani- 
mals are frequent topics of our conversation. He 
agrees with you in thinking that many individuals 
of the inferior classes of creation exhibit virtuous pro- 
pensities that render them strikingly amiable. In 
support of this theory, he told us, that as he was one 
day shooting under the cubbeer-burr, a species of grove 
I will describe hereafter, he chanced to kill a female 
monkey, and carried it to his tent, which, in a short 
time, was surrounded by forty or fifty monkeys, who 
made a great noise, and, in a menacing posture, ad- 
vanced towards the door. He took up his fowling- 
piece and presented, upon which they retreated a 
little, and appeared irresolute ; but one, who, from his 
age and situation in the van, seemed the head of the 


2929 CUBBEER-BU RR. 


troop, stood his ground, chattering and menacing in 
a furious manner; nor could any efforts with the 
gun drive them off. He at length came close to 
the tent-door, and finding that his threatenings were 
of no avail, he began a lamentable moaning, and, 
by every token of grief and supplication, seemed to 
beg the body of the deceased. After viewing his dis- 
tress for some time, it was given to him. He re- 
ceived it with a tender sorrow, and taking it up 
in his arms, embraced it with conjugal affection, 
and carried it off to his expecting comrades. The 
artless behaviour of this poor animal so powerfully 
wrought on Mr. Hervey and his companions, that 
they resolved, in future, never more to level a gun at 
a monkey.* 

The famous banian-tree, (F%cws Indica,) called 
by the Hindoos cubbeer-burr, is one of the won- 
ders of their country.t A considerable part of this 
extraordinary tree has been swept away by the high 
floods of a neighbouring river, but what still remains 
is near two thousand feet in circumference, measured 
round the principal stem: the overhanging branches, 
not yet struck down, cover a much larger space ; and 
under it grow a number of custard-apples, and other 

* On the authority of James Forbes, Esq. 


+ James Forbes, Esq. who relates these particulars from per- 
sonal inspection. 


HINDOO SUPERSTITION. 293 


wild plants. The large trunks of this single tree 
amount to three hundred and fifty; the smaller 
stems, forming into stronger supporters, exceed three 
thousand ; and every one of them is casting out 
smaller branches, and hanging roots, in time to 
form trunks, and become the parents of a future pro- 
geny. 

According to the superstition of the Hindoos, the 
origin of cubbeer-burr is ascribed to one of their saints, 
who, long ages ago, invoked a blessing from Brahma 
on a small sprig of a banian-tree which he stuck into 
the ground on this spot, and prayed that it might 
overshadow multitudes. It is, probably, some thou- 
sand years old, and the Hindoos behold it with pecu- 
liar reverence. Indeed, we cannot be surprised at 
their affection for these verdant blessings in the tor- 
rid zone. On sacred festivals they repair under the 
shade of cubbeer-burr, to worship their respective 
deities, and perform their ablutions in the surround- 
ing stream. This magnificent pavilion is filled with 
a variety of feathered songsters, peacocks, and other 
birds ; and crowded with whole families of monkeys, 
whose antics are very diverting; showing their pa- 
rental affection, by teaching their young to procure 
their food, and exert themselves with agility in jump- 
ing from bough to bough, and then taking more ex- 
tensive leaps, from tree to tree; encouraging them by 


924, IMITATIVE FACULTY OF MONKEYS. 


caresses when timorous, and menacing, and some- 
times beating them, when refractory. 

These animals show a curious instinct in their 
method of destroying the snakes which infest these 
trees: as if fully aware of their malignity, they seize 
them when asleep by the neck, and running to the 
nearest flat stone, grind down the head by rubbing it 
with great force on the surface; frequently looking 
at it, and grinning at their progress. When they 
are convinced that the venomous fangs are destroy- 
ed, they toss it to their young ones to play with, 
and seem to rejoice in the destruction of the common 
enemy. 

The sagacity of the monkey tribe, in a wild state, 
seems to approach very near to reason: when do- 
mesticated, they gain more credit for intelligence 
than they deserve, from their extraordinary pow- 
ers of mimicry. Some time ago, a lady of rank* 
had a present sent her, of a parrot and a monkey, 
by the same ship. These animals became very socia- 
ble and fond of each other. The monkey one day 
observing the cook pluck a fowl, and thinking that he 
could perform the same feat, took it into his head to 
try the experiment upon the poor parrot, and present- 
ly stripped her of all her feathers. 

The same monkey, after he came to England, hap- 


* Lady Mary Talbot. 


APE, AN UGLY COPY OF MAN. 225 


pened to see the poultry killed, and was so dexter- 
ous a mimic, that, getting into the hen-house, he 
twisted the necks of a vast number of chickens in a 
trice. 

I delight in tracing the amiable affections, even in 
animals, and hope you will collect some more instances 
of the same nature. 

I enclose a paper given me by Mr. Hervey, with a 
general account of the monkey tribe, that, I think, 
will afford you an half-hour’s amusement. 

Your very sincere and affectionate friend, 

EMILY. 


Tuat class of animals called apes, seems to excite 
peculiar interest, from the resemblance of their figure 
to that of man, their capacity of walking upright, and 
their propensity to imitation. We are apt to attri- 
bute to them peculiar sagacity, from their comical 
tricks ; though it seems, that many other animals far 
excel them in their wild state, as to their natural 
habits, and the policy of their communities. Their 
form, indeed, approaches to ours ; yet it is but a hide- 
ous resemblance, characteristic of vice and deformity. 
The satyrs and bacchanals in heathen mythology 


Q 


2296 RIBBED-NOSE BABOON. 


were symbols of every inordinate passion: the model 
from which they were delineated was evidently 
taken from the ape tribe, as may be seen by the 
strong similitude of the countenances of the one to the 
other. Nor does the disposition of these creatures 
falsify their physiognomy: many species are said to 
be fierce, ill-natured, malicious, revengeful, thievish, 
mischievous, and immodest ; exhibiting a picture, if 
it may bear that term, of man in the most debased 
condition, a slave to vice and his own unrestrained 
inclinations. Yet these creatures are domestic fa- 
vourites, and, it must be confessed, that some of the 
smaller tribes are not always destitute of beauty, if 
considered as an animal, and not as a counterpart to 
the noble, intelligent race of mankind. The ribbed- 
nose baboon, though disgusting in shape, is adorned 
with a variety of beautiful colours. Its nose is 
marked with broad ribs on each side, of a fine violet 
blue colour: a vermilion line begins a little above 
the eyes, and running down on each side of the nose, 
spreads to the tip of it. The insides of the ears are 
blue, which gradually softens to a purple, and termi- 
nates in vermilion. The rump is of the same colour ; 
and the beautiful tints on the hips are gradations 
from red to blue. The beard is dark at the roots, 
orange at the middle, and yellow at the ends. But 
all this finery does not make him amiable, for his 


ORANGE MONKEY. pa 


manners and disposition are odious. The upper parts 
of the body and tail of the green monkey, are covered 
with beautiful hair of a fine green colour, which en- 
ables the creature to conceal itself amongst the foliage 
of the trees: the throat, belly, and under side of the 
limbs, are of a silvery whiteness, which, with its 
diminutive size, must render it an object of admira- 
tion; it being not much above eight inches high, 
though the tail is eighteen inches long, and probably 
serves it for an arm, by which it clings to the branches 
of trees. 

The orange monkey is nearly the size of a squirrel : 
its head is round, eyes remarkably lively and bril- 
liant ; ears large ; the body covered with short, fine 
hair, of a shining gold colour ; and the tail is long. 

But the most beautiful of this tribe is the mico, or 
fair monkey. Its head is small and round; face 
and ears of so lively a scarlet, that they look as if 
they were painted. The long white hair that covers 
its body is of a silvery whiteness, which is contrast- 
ed by the shining dark chesnut-colour of its long tail. 
As they diminish in size and increase in _ beauty, 
they appear to lose the ferocious disposition of the 
larger kinds of baboons, and are gentle, playful, and 
amusing. 

The race is divided by naturalists into the three 
classes of apes, baboons, and monkeys. Apes have 


228 APES, BABOONS, AND MONKEYS. 


no tails, walk upright, and have a nearer resemblance 
than their fellows to the human form ; having calves 
to their legs, and their hands and feet shaped nearly 
in the same manner. 

The baboon has a short tail, a long projecting 
face, sunk eyes, and generally walks on all fours, 
unless compelled, in a state of servitude, to walk 
erect. Some of them are as tall, and have as 
much strength, as the most powerful men. Their 
propensities and figure are altogether most disgust- 
ing. 

The monkeys are a more diminutive race: their 
tails are generally longer than their body, and, in 
many species, serve, from their flexibility, the pur- 
poses of an arm, by which the animal clings with 
safety to the upper branches of the tallest trees. 

However the frolicsome temper of this latter di- 
vision may introduce them as playthings into our 
houses, it is most unaccountable that reasonable beings 
should ever consider them as objects of worship; yet, 
from the relation of many respectable travellers, it 
seems an undoubted fact that, in many parts of India, 
magnificent temples are erected in their honour. In 
Amadabad, the capital of Guzerat, there are three hos- 
pitals for animals, where lame and sick monkeys, or 
others who find out this luxurious asylum, are fed 
with dainty fare. It is much to be feared that, 


THE ORAN OTAN. 229 


whilst this improper indulgence is superstitiously 
bestowed upon brutes, many of the human race, 
in the same country, languish through want and 
neglect. 

The amusing tricks that are told of the animals of 
this genus in a state of captivity, though they show 
their capacity of being taught, and evince their saga- 
city, yet they do not inform us of their instincts or 
natural habits: for them, we must have recourse to 
the accounts of travellers who have visited the torrid 
zone, where all the species, except the Barbary ape, 
are found. 

From the oran otan to the smaller kinds of mon- 
keys, the varieties are very numerous: their habits, 
of course, differ according to their species, as it is said 
that they never mix with each other, but live apart, 
each kind preserving its own domain. Most of them 
live in very numerous communities; but the oran 
otan is a solitary animal, and prefers the most desert 
places. Though they are frequently six feet high, 
they are active, strong, and bold: they live on vege- 
table food, except, occasionally, they meet with 
shell-fish on the sea-shore. Notwithstanding their 
size, they are extremely nimble, and chiefly rest in 
high trees, where they are secure from the attacks 
of all rapacious creatures, except their insidious ene- 
mies the serpents. It is asserted that they construct 


230 ANATOMY OF THE ORAN OTAN. 


something like a hut, not only as a shelter from the 
heat of the sun, but also as a convenient retreat for 
the females and their young. They are so courage- 
ous as to drive elephants away from their haunts ; 
and defend themselves with sticks, or by throwing 
stones, when they are enraged. A single man is 
by no means a match for them. Bosman relates 
that two negro slaves happened to fall in with seve- 
ral of these dangerous creatures on the coast of 
Guinea, when, the apes having overpowered them, 
they were just on the point of pushing out their eyes 
with sticks, as a party of negroes came up and res- 
cued them. 

On dissecting the oran otan, there are many essen- 
tial distinctions in the internal formation from that 
of a man, though in some parts the affinity is so 
great, that their inferiority can only be attributed to 
the want of reason, or a deficiency in those intellec- 
tual powers that raise the human race above all other 
creatures. The tongue and the organs of the voice 
are similar; yet the oran otan is dumb. In the 
appearance and arrangement of the brain no differ- 
erence can be perceived; but the oran otan is ira- 
tional. Buffon concludes from these circumstances, 
that mind does not depend upon any conforma- 
tion of matter, but is of a nature superior and inde- 
pendent. 


HABITS OF THE PIGMY APE. 931 


The residence of wild animals being generally far 
removed from the habitations of man, it is difficult to 
trace their instincts ; especially of those species that 
seclude themselves in the recesses of woods and 
forests, where few ever enter but hunters or wander- 
ers, who are too much engaged in securing them- 
selves against danger, to observe attentively the 
habits of the creatures around them. Some par- 
ticulars have, however, been collected of different 
species of the ape genus, which are worth your 
notice. 

The pigmy ape is found in the southern parts of 
Africa: it lives in woods, and feeds on fruits and 
insects. If wild beasts attack them, they assemble 
in troops, and defend themselves by throwing a cloud 
of sand behind them, which blinds their pursuers, and 
renders their escape easy. This action shows great 
sagacity, and appears to be the result of reflection. 
They act in concert, as is seen from their plunder- 
ing gardens or plantations in a large body ; whilst 
one of them is always stationed on an eminence as 
a watchman, to see that no enemy is at hand. If 
all is safe, he makes it known by a signal that sets 
them all to work; but if he perceives any one ap- 
proach, he warns those on the ground to run up the 
trees. If it is necessary to abandon their project, 
they will pursue their route, by leaping from tree to 


232 MALICE OF THE BARBARY APE. 


tree, till they reach the mountains. The females, 
in these flights, are frequently laden with three or 
four young ones, clinging round their necks and 
backs; but this burden does not prevent them from 
making surprising leaps, both as to distance and swift- 
ness. 

Tavernier gives an extraordinary instance of the 
malicious and revengeful disposition of the Barbary 
ape. As he was travelling with the English presi- 
dent in the East Indies, they observed a great num- 
ber of large apes upon the neighbouring trees. The 
president, amused by an appearance so novel to him, 
wished to have one shot for a nearer examination, 
though the natives who attended him represented the 
danger of exciting their vengeance. In compliance 
with the president’s request, Tavernier, however, 
brought down a female with her little ones. In an 
instant, her companions, to the number of sixty at 
least, descended in fury, and crowded upon the presi- 
dent’s coach; where they would presently have dis- 
patched him, had not the blinds been immediately 
closed, and the apes beaten off by the numerous at- 
tendants. The flesh of this species is eaten by the 
wild Arabs. 

The baboon is very formidable, from its great 
strength, ferocious disposition, and extreme agility. 
One of them at liberty will easily overcome two or 


HARE-LIPPED MONKEY.—CHINESE MONKEY. 233 


three men, which may be partly attributed to their 
sharp claws. They store their food in their cheek- 
pouches. One of them kept in confinement, was 
known to hide eight eggs at a time in this manner ; 
and when he had a convenient opportunity, he took 
them out one at a time, and after breaking them at 
the end, swallowed them deliberately. They plunder 
gardens and orchards with the same precautions as 
the apes, and dexterously fling the fruit from one to 
another, in order to carry it off more expeditiously ; 
but if disturbed, they break it to pieces, and cram it 
into their cheek-pouches. At the sight of a man, 
they run up the trees, chatter, and shake the boughs 
at him with incredible boldness. The roots of bulbous 
plants are one of their favourite repasts: they dig 
them up, and then peel them with great cleverness, 
leaving heaps of the outside skin where they have been 
feasting. 

The hare-lipped monkeys go also in troops, and are 
inexpressibly injurious to the plantations of millet, 
which they carry off under their arms, and in their 
mouths. They examine every stalk they pull up, 
and are so delicate in their choice that they reject 
more than they consume. 

The Chinese monkey, when fruits are scarce, repairs 
to the sea-shore, and catches crabs by putting its tail 
between their pincers ; and when they are closed, runs 


934 MONKEY CALLED THE PREACHER. 


off with its booty, and devours it whenever conveni- 
ent. It also contrives to get at the kemel of the 
cocoa-nut, but without losing the milk. The natives 
take the advantage of their fondness for this fruit, by 
laying some of them, after boring a hole through the 
shell, near their haunts: the first monkey that finds 
them, thrusts his paw into one of these holes, in 
order to get at the kernel; and the people, who are 
prepared for this circumstance, run up without delay, 
and seize him before he can disengage himself. 

The preacher is the largest of all the American 
monkeys, being about the size of a fox: great num- 
bers of them inhabit the woods of Brazil and Guiana. 
They frequently assemble in companies, and placing 
themselves in a kind of regular order, one of them 
first begins with a loud tone, which may be heard to 
a great distance: the rest soon join in full chorus, the 
most discordant and terrible that can be conceived. 
On a sudden, they all stop but the first, who closes 
the assembly with a solo. They live in trees, and 
leap from bough to bough with surprising agility, 
catching hold with their hands and tails as they 
spring from one branch to another; and maintain 
their grasp so firmly, that, even when shot, they re- 
main fixed till they die. 

Serpents are the great enemies to this active tribe, 
and their agility is a more powerful defence than 


ACTIVITY OF THE SQUIRREL MONKEY. 235 


a coat of mail ; for so conscious are they of its advan- 
tages, that some of them will leap backwards and for- 
wards over the snakes, when they are reposing, with- 
out discovering the least sign of fear. 

Stedman, who wrote an account of Surinam, mi- 
nutely describes the gambols of the squirrel monkey, 
called by the natives keesee-keesee, an elegant little 
animal about the size of a rabbit. He saw numbers 
of them daily passing along the sides of the river, 
skipping from tree to tree, regularly following each 
other, like a little army, with their young ones at 
their backs, which have no unapt resemblance to 
knapsacks. The leader walks to the extremity of a 
bough, from which it springs to the end of an opposite 
one, belonging to the next tree, often at a most asto- 
nishing distance, and with such wonderful activity 
and precision that it nevers misses its aim: the others, 
one by one, and even the females with their little 
ones at their backs, which stick fast to the mother, 
follow their guide, and make the same leap, with equal 
certainty and ease. 

This leads me to mention the extreme affection 
of the females for their young: they suckle, caress, 
and cleanse them of the vermin that harbour in their 
fur; then, crouching on their hams, observe their 
gambols with each other with great delight. Whilst 
the little ones are at play, wrestling, throwing each 


236 FEMALE MONKEY AND HER YOUNG. 


other down, or running after each other, if the dam 
perceives one of them malicious or untoward, she 
springs upon it, and seizing it by the tail with one 
paw, corrects it severely with the other. Sometimes 
the delinquent will try to escape; but when got out 
of reach, as if waiting till its mother’s anger had 
subsided, returns gently, in a wheedling, caressing 
manner, to avert her displeasure. Sometimes they 
are all obedient to the first cry she makes as a signal 
of command, and will follow her if she goes a gentle 
pace; but if she has occasion to move swiftly, they 
mount upon her back, or cling to the fore part of her 
body. The female, thus loaded, will perform extra- 
ordinary feats of agility ; and when tired of her bur- 
den, will rub against a tree till the little ones are 
obliged to descend, when the male takes them up in 
his turn. 

The monkey tribe in America differs materially 
from those of the other quarters of the globe, in 
having neither cheek-pouches, nor callosities, or hard- 
ness, on the buttocks. They are divided mto two 
genera, called Sapajous and Sagoins, which are dis- 
tinguished from each other by characters peculiar 
to each. The tail of the sapajou is flexible, having 
the under part covered, generally, with a smooth, 
naked skin. The animal can coil it up or extend it at 
pleasure ; suspend itself by its extremity from the 


> 


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. 


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