('Annals of Sporting', vol. iii. 1833.)]

[Footnote 25: The author of the 'Field Book' says that he saw an extremely small pointer, whose length, from the tip of the nose to the point of the tail, was only two feet and half an inch, the length of the head being six inches, and round the chest one foot and three inches. He was an exquisite miniature of the English pointer, being in all respects similar to him, except in his size. His colour was white, with dark liver-coloured patches on each side of the head, extending half down the neck. The ears, with some patches on the back, were also of the same colour, and numerous small dark-brown spots appeared over his whole body and legs.

This beautiful little animal had an exquisite sense of smell. Some of the same breed, and being the property of the Earl of Lauderdale, were broken-in and made excellent pointers, although, from their minute size, it could not be expected that they would be able to do much work. When intent upon any object, the dog assumed the same attitude as other pointers, holding up one of his feet.

('The Field Book', p. 399.)]

[Footnote 26: Another writer in the same volume gives also an interesting account of the management of the setter.]



* * * * *



CHAPTER IV.

THE VARIETIES OF THE DOG.

THIRD DIVISION.

'The muzzle more or less shortened, the frontal sinus enlarged, and the cranium elevated and diminished in capacity.'

At the head of this inferior or brutal division of dogs stands

THE BULL-DOG.

The round, thick head, turned-up nose, and thick and pendulous lips of this dog are familiar to all, while his ferocity makes him in the highest degree dangerous. In general he makes a silent although ferocious attack, and the persisting powers of his teeth and jaws enable him to keep his hold against any but the greatest efforts, so that the utmost mischief is likely to ensue as well to the innocent visitor of his domicile as the ferocious intruder. The bull-dog is scarcely capable of any education, and is fitted for nothing but ferocity and combat.

The name of this dog is derived from his being too often employed, until a few years ago, in baiting the bull. It was practised by the low and dissolute in many parts of the country. Dogs were bred and trained for the purpose; and, while many of them were injured or destroyed, the head of the bull was lacerated in the most barbarous manner. Nothing can exceed the fury with which the bull-dog rushed on his foe, and the obstinacy with which he maintained his hold. He fastened upon the lip, the muzzle, or the eye, and there he hung in spite of every effort of the bull to free himself from his antagonist.

Bull-dogs are not so numerous as they were a few years ago; and every kind-hearted person will rejoice to hear that bull-baiting is now put down by legal authority in every part of the kingdom.

THE BULL TERRIER.

This dog is a cross between the bull-dog and the terrier, and is generally superior, both in appearance and value, to either of its progenitors. A second cross considerably lessens the underhanging of the lower jaw, and a third entirely removes it, retaining the spirit and determination of the animal. It forms a steadier friendship than either of them, and the principal objection to it is its love of wanton mischief, and the dangerous irascibility which it occasionally exhibits.

Sir Walter Scott, a warm friend of dogs, and whose veracity cannot be impeached, gives an interesting account of a favourite one belonging to him.

"The cleverest dog I ever had was what is called a bull-dog terrier. I taught him to understand a great many words, insomuch that I am positive the communication between the canine species and ourselves might be greatly enlarged. Camp, the name of my dog, once bit the baker when bringing bread to the family. I beat him, and explained the enormity of the offence; after which, to the last moment of his life, he never heard the least allusion to the story without creeping into the darkest corner of the room. Towards the end of his life when he was unable to attend me while I was on horseback, he generally watched for my return, and, when the servant used to tell him, his master was coming down the hill, or through the moor, although he did not use any gesture to explain his meaning, Camp was never known to mistake him, but either went out at the front to go up the hill, or at the back to get down to the moor-side."

THE MASTIFF

The head considerably resembles that of the bull-dog, but with the ears dependent. The upper lip falls over the lower jaw. The end of the tail is turned up, and frequently the fifth toe of the hind feet is more or less developed. The nostrils are separated one from another by a deep furrow. He has a grave and somewhat sullen countenance, and his deep-toned bark is often heard during the night. The mastiff is taller than the bull-dog, but not so deep in the chest, and his head is large compared with his general form.

It is probable that the mastiff is an original breed peculiar to the British islands.

He seems to be fully aware of the impression which his large size makes on every stranger; and, in the night especially, he watches the abode of his master with the completest vigilance; in fact, nothing would tempt him to betray the confidence which is reposed in him.

Captain Brown states that,

"notwithstanding his commanding appearance and the strictness with which he guards the property of his master, he is possessed of the greatest mildness of conduct, and is as grateful for any favours bestowed upon him as is the most diminutive of the canine tribe. There is a remarkable and peculiar warmth in his attachments. He is aware of all the duties required of him, and he punctually discharges them. In the course of the night he several times examines every thing with which he is intrusted with the most scrupulous care, and, by repeated barkings, warns the household or the depredator that he is at the post of duty." [1]

The mastiff from Cuba requires some mention, and will call up some of the most painful recollections in the history of the human race. He was not a native of Cuba, but imported into the country.

The Spaniards had possessed themselves of several of the South American islands. They found them peopled with Indians, and those of a sensual, brutish, and barbarous class—continually making war with their neighbours, indulging in an irreconcilable hatred of the Spaniards, and determined to expel and destroy them. In self-defence, they were driven to some means of averting the destruction with which they were threatened. They procured some of these mastiffs, by whose assistance they penetrated into every part of the country, and destroyed the greater portion of the former inhabitants.

Las Casas, a Catholic priest, and whose life was employed in endeavouring to mitigate the sufferings of the original inhabitants, says that

"it was resolved to march against the Indians, who had fled to the mountains, and they were chased like wild beasts, with the assistance of bloodhounds, who had been trained to a thirst for human blood, so that before I had left the island it had become almost entirely a desert."

THE ICELAND DOG.

The head is rounder than that of the northern dogs; the ears partly erect and partly pendent; and the fur soft and long, especially behind the fore legs and on the tail. It much resembles the Turkish dog removed to a colder climate.

This dog is exceedingly useful to the Icelanders while travelling over the snowy deserts of the north. By a kind of intuition he rarely fails in choosing the shortest and the safest course. He also is more aware than his master of the approach of the snow storms; and is a most valuable ally against the attack of the Polar bear, who, drifted on masses of ice from the neighbouring continent, often commits depredations among the cattle, and even attacks human beings. When the dog is first aware of the neighbourhood of the bear, he sets up a fearful howl, and men and dogs hasten to hunt down and destroy the depredator.

The travelling in Iceland is sometimes exceedingly dangerous at the beginning of the winter. A thin layer of snow covers and conceals some of the chasms with which that region abounds. Should the traveller fall into one of them, the dog proves a most useful animal; for he runs immediately across the snowy waste, and, by his howling, induces the traveller's friends to hasten to his rescue.

THE TERRIER

The forehead is convex; the eye prominent; the muzzle pointed; the tail thin and arched; the fur short; the ears of moderate size, half erect, and usually of a deep-black colour, with a yellow spot over the eyes. It is an exceedingly useful animal; but not so indispensable an accompaniment to a pack of fox-hounds as it used to be accounted. Foxes are not so often unearthed as they formerly were, yet many a day's sport would be lost without the terrier. Some sportsmen used to have two terriers accompanying in the pack, one being smaller than the other. This was a very proper provision; a large terrier might be incapable of penetrating into the earth, and a small one might permit the escape of the prey. Many terriers have lost their lives by scratching up the earth behind them, and thus depriving themselves of all means of retreat.

The coat of the terrier may be either smooth or rough; the smooth-haired ones are more delicate in appearance, and are somewhat more exposed to injury or accident; but in courage, sagacity, and strength, there is very little difference if the dogs are equally well bred. The rough terrier possibly obtained his shaggy coat from the cur, and the smooth terrier may derive his from the hound.

The terrier is seldom of much service until he is twelve months old; and then, incited by natural propensity, or the example of the older ones, or urged on by the huntsman, he begins to discharge his supposed duty.

An old terrier is brought to the mouth of the earth in which a vixen fox—a fox with her young ones—has taken up her abode, and is sent in to worry and drive her out. Some young terriers are brought to the mouth of the hover, to listen to the process that is going forward within, and to be excited to the utmost extent of which they are capable. The vixen is at length driven out, and caught at the mouth of the hole; and the young ones are suffered to rush in, and worry or destroy their first prey. They want no after-tuition to prepare them for the discharge of their duty.

This may be pardoned. It is the most ready way of training the young dog to his future business; but it is hoped that no reader of this work will be guilty of the atrocities that are often practised. An old fox, or badger, is caught, his under jaw is sawn off, and the lower teeth are forcibly extracted, or broken. A hole is then dug in the earth, or a barrel is placed large and deep enough to permit a terrier, or perhaps two of them, to enter. Into this cavity the fox or badger is thrust, and a terrier rushes after him, and drags him out again. The question to be ascertained is, how many times in a given period the dog will draw this poor tortured animal out of the barrel—an exhibition of cruelly which no one should be able to lay to the charge of any human being. It is a principle not to be departed from, that wanton and useless barbarity should never be permitted. The government, to a certain extent, has interfered, and a noble society has been established to limit, or, if possible, to prevent the infliction of useless pain.

The terrier is, however, a valuable dog, in the house and the farm. The stoat, the pole-cat, and the weazel, commit great depredations in the fields, the barn, and granary; and to a certain extent, the terrier is employed in chasing them; but it is not often that he has a fair chance to attack them. He is more frequently used in combating the rat.

The mischief effected by rats is almost incredible. It has been said that, in some cases, in the article of corn, these animals consume a quantity of food equal in value to the rent of the farm. Here the dog is usefully employed, and in his very element, especially if there is a cross of the bull-dog about him.

There are some extraordinary accounts of the dexterity, as well as courage, of the terrier in destroying rats. The feats of a dog called "Billy" will he long remembered. He was matched to destroy one hundred large rats in eight and a half minutes. The rats were brought into the ring in bags, and, as soon as the number was complete, he was put over the railing. In six minutes and thirty-five seconds they were all destroyed. In another match he destroyed the same number in six minutes and thirteen seconds. At length, when he was getting old, and had but two teeth and one eye left, a wager was laid of thirty sovereigns, by the owner of a Berkshire bitch, that she would kill fifty rats in less time than Billy. The old dog killed his fifty in five minutes and six seconds. The pit was then cleared, and the bitch let in. When she had killed thirty rats, she was completely exhausted, fell into a fit, and lay barking and yelping, utterly incapable of completing her task.

The speed of the terrier is very great. One has been known to run six miles in thirty-two minutes. He needs to be a fleet dog if, with his comparatively little bulk, he can keep up with the foxhound.

A small breed of 'wry-legged' terriers was once in repute, and, to a certain degree, is retained for the purpose of hunting rabbits. It probably originated in some rickety specimens, remarkable for the slow development of their frame, except in the head, the belly, and the joints, which enlarge at the expense of the other parts.

THE SCOTCH TERRIER

There is reason to believe that this dog is far older than the English terrier. There are three varieties: first the common Scotch terrier, twelve or thirteen inches high; his body muscular and compact— considerable breadth across the loins—the legs shorter and stouter than those of the English terriers. The head large in proportion to the size of the body—the muzzle small and pointed—strong marks of intelligence in the countenance—warm attachment to his master, and the evident devotion of every power to the fulfilment of his wishes. The hair is long and tough, and extending over the whole of the frame. In colour, they are black or fawn: the white, yellow, or pied are always deficient in purity of blood.

Another species has nearly the same conformation, but is covered with longer, more curly, and stouter hair; the legs being apparently, but not actually, shorter. This kind of dog prevails in the greater part of the Western Islands of Scotland, and some of them, where the hair has obtained its full development, are much admired.

Her Majesty had one from Islay, a faithful and affectionate creature, yet with all the spirit and determination that belongs to his breed. The writer of this account had occasion to operate on this poor fellow, who had been bitten under somewhat suspicious circumstances. He submitted without a cry or a struggle, and seemed to be perfectly aware that we should not put him to pain without having some good purpose in view.

A third species of terrier is of a considerably larger bulk, and three or four inches taller than either of the others. Its hair is shorter than that of the other breeds, and is hard and wiry.



THE SHOCK-DOG

is traced by Buffon, but somewhat erroneously, to a mixture of the small Danish dog and the pug. The head is round, the eyes large, but somewhat concealed by its long and curly hair, the tail curved and bent forward. The muzzle resembles that of the pug. It is of small size, and is used in this country and on the Continent as a lap-dog. It is very properly described by the author of "The Field Book" as a useless little animal, seeming to possess no other quality than that of a faithful attachment to his mistress.

THE ARTOIS DOG

with his short, flat muzzle, is a produce of the shock-dog and the pug. He has nothing peculiar to recommend him.

THE ANDALUSIAN, OR ALICANT DOG,

has the short muzzle of the pug with the long hair of the spaniel.

THE EGYPTIAN AND BARBARY DOG,

according to Cuvier, has a very thick and round head, the ears erect at the base, large and movable, and carried horizontally, the skin nearly naked, and black or dark flesh-colour, with large patches of brown. A sub-variety has a kind of mane behind the head, formed of long stiff hairs.

Buffon imagines that the shepherd's dog—transported to different climates, and acquiring different habits—was the ancestor of the various species with which almost every country abounds; but whence they originally came it is impossible to say. They vary in their size, their colour, their attitude, their usual exterior, and their strangely different interior construction. Transported into various climates, they are necessarily submitted to the influence of heat and cold, and of food more or less abundant and more or less suitable to their natural organization; but the reason or the derivation of these differences of structure it is not always easy to explain.



[Footnote 1: Brown's 'Biographical Sketches', p. 425.]



* * * * *



CHAPTER V.

THE GOOD QUALITIES OF THE DOG; THE SENSE OF SMELL; INTELLIGENCE; MORAL QUALITIES; DOG-CARTS; CROPPING; TAILING; BREAKING-IN; DOG-PITS; DOG-STEALING.

In our history of the different breeds of the dog we have seen enough to induce us to admire and love him. His courage, his fidelity, and the degree in which he often devotes every power that he possesses to our service, are circumstances that we can never forget nor overlook. His very foibles occasionally attach him to us. We may select a pointer for the pureness of his blood and the perfection of his education. He transgresses in the field. We call him to us; we scold him well; perchance, we chastise him. He lies motionless and dumb at our feet. The punishment being over, he gets up, and, by some significant gesture, acknowledges his consciousness of deserving what he has suffered. The writer operated on a pointer bitch for an enlarged cancerous tumour, accompanied by much inflammation and pain in the surrounding parts. A word or two of kindness and of caution were all that were necessary, although, in order to prevent accidents, she had been bound securely. The flesh quivered as the knife pursued its course—a moan or two escaped her, but yet she did not struggle; and her first act, after all was over, was to lick the operator's hand.

From the combination of various causes, the history of no animal is more interesting than that of the dog. First, his intimate association with man, not only as a valuable protector, but as a constant and faithful companion throughout all the vicissitudes of life. Secondly, from his natural endowments, not consisting in the exquisite delicacy of one individual sense—not merely combining memory with reflection—but possessing qualities of the mind that stagger us in the contemplation of them, and which we can alone account for in the gradation existing in that wonderful system which, by different links of one vast chain, extends from the first to the last of all things, until it forms a perfect whole on the wonderful confines of the spiritual and material world.

We here quote the beautiful account of Sir Walter Scott and his dogs, as described by Henry Hallam:

"But looking towards the grassy mound Where calm the Douglass chieftains lie, Who, living, quiet never found, I straightway learnt a lesson high;

For there an old man sat serene, And well I knew that thoughtful mien Of him whose early lyre had thrown O'er mouldering walls the magic of its tone.

It was a comfort, too, to see Those dogs that from him ne'er would rove, And always eyed him reverently, With glances of depending love. They know not of the eminence Which marks him to my reasoning sense, They know but that he is a man, And still to them is kind, and glads them all he can

And hence their quiet looks confiding; Hence grateful instincts seated deep By whose strong bond, were ill betiding, They'd lose their own, his life to keep. What joy to watch in lower creature Such dawning of a moral nature, And how (the rule all things obey) They look to a higher mind to be their law and stay!"

The subject of the intellectual and moral qualities of the inferior animals is one highly interesting and somewhat misunderstood—urged perhaps to a ridiculous extent by some persons, yet altogether neglected by others who have no feeling for any but themselves.

Anatomists have compared the relative bulk of the brain in different animals, and the result is not a little interesting. In man the weight of the brain amounts on the average to 1-30th part of the body. In the Newfoundland dog it does not amount to 1-60th part, or to 1-100th part in the poodle and barbet, and not to more than 1-300th part in the ferocious and stupid bull-dog.

When the brain is cut, it is found to be composed of two substances, essentially different in construction and function—the cortical and the medullary. The first is small in quantity, and principally concerned in the food and reproduction of the animal, and the cineritious in a great measure the register of the mind. Brute strength seems to be the character of the former, and superior intelligence of the latter. There is, comparing bulk with bulk, less of the medullary substance in the horse than in the ox—and in the dog than in the horse—and they are characterized as the sluggish ox, the intelligent horse, and the intellectual and companionable dog.

From the medullary substance proceed certain cords or prolongations, termed 'nerves', by which the animal is enabled to receive impressions from surrounding objects and to connect himself with them, and also to possess many pleasurable or painful sensations. One of them is spread over the membrane of the nose, and gives the sense of smell; another expands on the back of the eye, and the faculty of sight is gained; a third goes to the internal structure of the ear and the animal is conscious of sound. Other nerves, proceeding to different parts, give the faculty of motion, while an equally important one bestows the power of feeling. One division, springing from a prolongation of the brain, and yet within the skull, wanders to different parts of the frame, for important purposes connected with respiration or breathing. The act of breathing is essential to life, and were it to cease, the animal would die.

There are other nerves—the sympathetic—so called from their union and sympathy with all the others, and identified with life itself. They proceed from a small ganglion or enlargement in the upper part of the neck, or from a collection of minute ganglia within the abdomen. They go to the heart, and it beats; and to the stomach, and it digests. They form a net-work round each vessel, and the frame is nourished and built up. They are destitute of sensation, and they are perfectly beyond the control of the will.

We have been accustomed, and properly, to regard the nervous system, or that portion of it which is connected with animal life—that which renders us conscious of surrounding objects and susceptible of pleasure and of pain—as the source of intellectual power and moral feeling. It is so with ourselves. All our knowledge is derived from our perception of things around as. A certain impression is made on the outward fibres of a sensitive nerve. That impression, in some mysterious way, is conveyed to the brain; and there it is received—registered—stored—and compared; there its connections are traced and its consequences appreciated; and thence a variety of interesting impressions are conveyed, and due use is made of them.

THE SENSE OF SMELL

Our subject—the intellectual and moral feelings of brutes, and the mechanism on which they depend—may be divided into two parts, the portion that receives and conveys, and that which stores up and compares and uses the impression.

The portion that receives and conveys is far more developed in the brute than in the human being. Whatever sense we take, we clearly perceive the triumph of animal power.

The olfactory nerve in the horse, the dog, the ox, and the swine, is the largest of all the cerebral nerves, and has much greater comparative bulk in the quadruped than in the human being. The sense of smell, bearing proportion to the nerve on which it depends, is yet more acute. In man it is connected with pleasure—in the inferior animals with life. The relative size of the nerve bears an invariable proportion to the necessity of an acute sense of smell in the various animals—large in the horse compared with the olfactory nerve in the human being—larger in the ox, who is often sent into the fields to shift for himself—larger still in the swine, whose food is buried under the soil, or deeply immersed in the filth or refuse,—and still larger in the dog, the acuteness of whose scent is so connected with our pleasure.

[The disposition to hunt by scent is not peculiar to the setter or pointer, but in fact is common to all animals; developing itself in different proportions according to their various physical constructions and modes of life. The method of finding and pointing at game, now peculiar to these dogs, and engendered in their progeny through successive generations, is not the result of any special instinct, that usually governs the actions of the brute creation—but rather the effect of individual education and force of habit upon their several ancestors. This habit of life, engrafted through progressive generations into these breeds, has become a second nature, and so entirely the property of the species, that all its members, with but little care on the part of man, will perform these same actions in the same way, and will ever continue to exhibit these propensities for hunting, provided opportunities be offered for indulging them. Nevertheless, as these peculiar predilections for "'setting or pointing'," as before said, are the effect of education and habit, the artificial impulse would very soon be entirely obliterated, if not encouraged in the young dogs of each generation. This circumstance alone, proves to us the importance of getting dogs from a well-known good strain, whose ancestors have been remarkable for their exploits in the field. This necessary precaution will insure a favourable issue to our troubles, and lessen materially our labours. In fact young puppies have been frequently known to exhibit this propensity the first time they have been taken to the field. Some of these dogs have come under the notice of the writer, who at a few months old exhibited all the peculiarities of their race; in fact were "self-broke." These dogs were the progeny of a well-known imported stock, in the possession of a gentleman who selected them in England.

Although other dogs, and other animals even, have been with great difficulty and perseverance taught to find and point game, still these two breeds seem especially adapted by nature, both in their physical and intellectual construction, for the performance of this particular duty to man.

The sense of smell is differently developed in different animals; the olfactory nerve of the dog is larger than any other in the cerebrum, which peculiarity will at once account for their wonderful powers of scent.

'Swine', also, have these nerves largely developed; and necessarily so, as both in a state of nature or half-civilization, the greater portion of their food is buried under the earth or mingled with the filth and mire of their sties, and would pass unheeded, if not for the acuteness of their nasal organs.

In Daniels' "Rural Sports," will be found an interesting account of a sow having been taught to find and point game of various kinds, and often having been known to stand on partridges at a distance of forty yards, which is more than can reasonably be expected of every first-rate dog. She was not only broke to find and stand game, but hunted with the dogs, and backed successfully when on a point. This extraordinary animal evinced great aptness for learning, and afterwards great enthusiasm in the sport; showing symptoms of pleasure at the sight of a gun, or when called upon to accompany a party to the field. Her hunting was not confined to any particular game, but stood equally well on partridges, pheasants, snipes, rabbits, &c. (See Blaine, part vii, chap, iii, page 792.)

Most of animals instinctively employ the organ of scent to seek out food, or avert personal danger, in preference to that of sight; but some depend more upon the latter than the former, either from instinct or the force of education.

For instance, the greyhound, though equally gifted with the sense of smell, as that of sight, has been taught to depend upon the one organ to the entire exclusion of the other, which is quite the reverse of the setter and pointer; but the wonderful speed of these dogs renders it quite unnecessary that he should employ the olfactory nerves, as no animal, however swift, can hope to escape from him in a fair race, when once near enough to be seen; though there are some that may elude his grasp by a "'ruse de guerre'" when too hardly pressed. ('Extracted from our essay in No. 1, vol. xvi, of the "Spirit of the Times.'")—L.]

INTELLIGENCE

We find little mention of insanity in the domesticated animals in any of our modern authors, whether treating on agriculture, horsemanship, or veterinary medicine, and yet there are some singular and very interesting cases of aberration of intellect. The inferior animals are, to a certain extent, endowed with the same faculties as ourselves. They are even susceptible of the same moral qualities. Hatred, love, fear, hope, joy, distress, courage, timidity, jealousy, and many varied passions influence and agitate them, as they do the human being. The dog is an illustration of this—-the most susceptible to every impression—approaching the nearest to man in his instincts, and in many actions that surprise the philosopher, who justly appreciates it.

What eagerness to bite is often displayed by the dog when labouring under enteritis, and especially by him who has imbibed the poison of rabies! How singular is the less dangerous malady which induces the horse and the dog to press unconsciously forward under the influence of vertigo!—the eagerness with which, when labouring under phrenitis, he strikes at everything with his foot, or rushes upon it to seize it with his teeth! A kind of nostalgia is often recognised in that depression which nothing can dissipate, and the invincible aversion to food, by means of which many animals perish, who are prevented from returning to the place where they once lived, and the localities to which they had been accustomed.

These are circumstances proving that the dog is endowed with intelligence and with affections like ours; and, if they do not equal ours, they are of the same character.

With regard to the foundation of intellectual power, viz.: attention, memory, association, and imagination, the difference between man and animals is in degree, and not in kind. Thus stands the account,—with the quadruped as well as the biped,—the impression is made on the mind; attention fixes it there; memory recurs to it; imagination combines it, rightly or erroneously, with many other impressions; judgment determines the value of it, and the conclusions that are to be drawn from it, if not with logical precision, yet with sufficient accuracy for every practical purpose.

A bitch, naturally ill-tempered, and that would not suffer a stranger to touch her, had scirrhous enlargement on one of her teats. As she lay in the lap of her mistress, an attempt was repeatedly made to examine the tumour, in spite of many desperate attempts on her part to bite. All at once, however, something seemed to strike her mind. She whined, wagged her tail, and sprung from the lap of her mistress to the ground. It was to crouch at the feet of the surgeon, and to lay herself down and expose the tumour to his inspection. She submitted to a somewhat painful examination of it, and to a far more serious operation afterwards. Some years passed away, and whenever she saw the operator, she testified her joy and her gratitude in the most expressive and endearing manner.

A short time since, the following scene took place in a street adjoining Hanover-square. It was an exhibition of a highly interesting character, and worthy to be placed upon record. The editor of the Lancet having heard that a French gentleman (M. Leonard), who had for some time been engaged in instructing two dogs in various performances that required the exercise, not merely of the natural instincts of the animal and the power of imitation, but of a higher intellect, and a degree of reflection and judgment far greater than is commonly developed in the dog; was residing in London, obtained an introduction, and was obligingly favoured by M. Leonard with permission to hold a 'conversazione' with his extraordinary pupils. He thus describes the interview:

Two fine dogs, of the Spanish breed, were introduced by M. Leonard, with the customary French politesse, the largest by the name of M. Philax, the other as M. Brac (or spot); the former had been in training three, the latter two, years. They were in vigorous health, and, having bowed very gracefully, seated themselves on the hearth-rug side by side. M. Leonard then gave a lively description of the means he had employed to develop the cerebral system in these animals—how, from having been fond of the chase, and ambitious of possessing the best-trained dogs, he had employed the usual course of training—how the conviction had been impressed on his mind, that by gentle usage, and steady perseverance in inducing the animal to repeat again and again what was required, not only would the dog be capable of performing that specific act, but that part of the brain which was brought into activity by the mental effort would become more largely developed, and hence a permanent increase of mental power be obtained.

This reasoning is in accordance with the known laws of the physiology of the nervous system, and is fraught with the most important results. We may refer the reader interested in the subject to the masterly little work of Dr. Verity, "Changes produced in the Nervous System by Civilization."

After this introduction, M. Leonard spoke to his dogs in French, in his usual tone, and ordered one of them to walk, the other to lie down, to run, to gallop, halt, crouch, &c., which they performed as promptly and correctly as the most docile children. Then he directed them to go through the usual exercises of the 'manege', which they performed as well as the best-trained ponies at Astley's.

He next placed six cards of different colours on the floor, and, sitting with his back to the dogs, directed one to pick up the blue card, and the other the white, &c., varying his orders rapidly, and speaking in such a manner that it was impossible the dogs could have executed his commands if they had not had a perfect knowledge of the words. For instance, M. Leonard said, "Philax, take the red card and give it to Brac; and, Brac, take the white card and give it to Philax;" the dags instantly did this, and exchanged cards with each other. He then said, "Philax, put your card on the green, and Brac, put yours on the blue;" and this was instantly performed. Pieces of bread and meat were placed on the floor, with figured cards, and a variety of directions were given to the dogs, so as to put their intelligence and obedience to a severe test. They brought the meat, bread, or cards, as commanded, but did not attempt to eat or to touch unless ordered. Philax was then ordered to bring a piece of meat and give it to Brac, and then Brac was told to give it back to Philax, who was to return it to its place. Philax was next told he might bring a piece of bread and eat it; but, before he had time to swallow it, his master forbade him, and directed him to show that he had not disobeyed, and the dog instantly protruded the crust between his lips.

While many of these feats were being performed, M. Leonard snapped a whip violently, to prove that the animals were so completely under discipline, that they would not heed any interruption.

After many other performances, M. Leonard invited a gentleman to play a game of dominos with one of them. The younger and slighter dog then seated himself on a chair at the table, and the writer and M. Leonard seated themselves opposite. Six dominos were placed on their edges in the usual manner before the dog, and a like number before the writer. The dog having a double number, took one up in his mouth, and put it in the middle of the table; the writer placed a corresponding piece on one side; the dog immediately played another correctly, and so on until all the pieces were engaged. Other six dominos were then given to each, and the writer intentionally placed a wrong number. The dog looked surprised, stared very earnestly at the writer, growled, and finally barked angrily. Finding that no notice was taken of his remonstrances, he pushed away the wrong domino with his nose, and took up a suitable one from his own pieces, and placed it in its stead. The writer then played correctly; the dog followed, and won the game. Not the slightest intimation could have been given by M. Leonard to the dog. This mode of play must have been entirely the result of his own observation and judgment. It should be added that the performances were strictly private. The owner of the dogs was a gentleman of independent fortune, and the instruction of his dogs had been taken up merely as a curious and amusing investigation. [1]

Another strange attainment of the dog is the learning to speak. The French Academicians mention one of these animals that could call in an intelligible manner for tea, coffee, chocolate, &c. The account is given by the celebrated Leibnitz, who communicated it to the Royal Academy of France. This dog was of a middling size, and was the property of a peasant in Saxony.

A little boy, a peasant's son, imagined that he perceived in the dog's voice an indistinct resemblance to certain words, and therefore took it into his head to teach him to speak. For this purpose he spared neither time nor pains with his pupil, who was about three years old when his learned education commenced, and in process of time he was able to articulate no fewer than thirty distinct words. He was, however, somewhat of a truant, and did not very willingly exert his talent, and was rather pressed than otherwise into the service of literature. It was necessary that the words should be pronounced to him each time, and then he repeated them after his preceptor. Leibnitz attests that he heard the animal talk in this way, and the French Academicians add, that unless they had received the testimony of so celebrated a person they would scarcely have dared to report the circumstance. It took place in Misnia, in Saxony.

THE MORAL QUALITIES OF THE DOG.

We pass on to another division of our subject, 'the moral qualities of the dog', strongly developed and beautifully displayed, and often putting the biped to shame.

It is truly said of the dog that he possesses

"Many a good And useful quality, and virtue too, Attachment never to be weaned or changed By any change of fortune; proof alike Against unkindness, absence, and neglect; Fidelity, that neither bribe nor threat Can move or warp; and gratitude, for small And trivial favours, lasting as the life, And glistening even in the dying eye."

It may here be noticed that, among the inferior animals with large nerves and more medullary substance, there are acuter senses; but man, excelling them in the general bulk of his brain, and more particularly in the cortical portion of it, has far superior powers of mind. These are circumstances that deserve the deepest consideration. In their wild state the brutes have no concern—no idea beyond their food and their reproduction. In their domesticated state, they are doomed to be the servants of man. Their power of mind is sufficient to qualify them for this service: but were proportionate intellectual capacity added to this—were they made conscious of their strength, and of the objects that could be effected by it—they would burst their bonds, and man would in his turn be the victim and the slave.

There is an important faculty, termed 'attention'. It is that which distinguishes the promising pupil from him of whom no good hope could be formed, and the scientific man from the superficial and ignorant one. The power of keeping the mind steadily bent upon one purpose, is the great secret of individual and moral improvement. We see the habit of attention carried in the dog to a very considerable extent. The terrier eagerly watching for vermin—the sporting dog standing staunch to his point, however he may be annoyed by the blunders of his companion or the unskilfulness of his master—the foxhound, insensible to a thousand scents, and deaf to every other sound, while he anxiously and perseveringly searches out the track of his prey—these are striking illustrations of the power of attention.

Then, the impression having been received, and the mind having been employed in its examination, it is treasured up in the storehouse of the mind for future use.

This is the faculty of memory; and a most important one it is. Of the 'memory' of the 'dog', and the recollection of kindness received, there are a thousand stories, from the return of Ulysses to the present day, and we have seen enough of that faithful animal to believe most of them. An officer was abroad with his regiment, during the American war. He had a fine Newfoundland dog, his constant companion, whom he left with his family. After the lapse of several years he returned. His dog met him at the door, leaped upon his neck, licked his face, and died.

Of the accuracy and retentiveness of memory in the dog, as respects the instruction he has received from his master, we have abundant proof in the pointer and the hound, and it may perhaps be with some of them, as with men, that the lesson must sometimes be repeated, and even impressed on the memory in a way not altogether pleasant.

[We know an imported Irish setter, formerly in possession of a gentleman of this city, who on many occasions, while hunting, displayed an extraordinary instinct, even sufficiently remarkable to make us believe that he possessed not only the most acute powers of observation, but that he also enjoyed the faculty of "inductive reasoning," independent of any mechanical training, many of his performances being entirely voluntary, and the result of causes dependent upon accidental circumstances alone: for instance, when lost from observation, he would noiselessly withdraw from his point, hunt up his master, and induce him, by peculiar signs, to follow him to the spot where he had previously observed the birds.

In his old days, "Smoke" was much opposed to hunting with an indifferent shot, and would leave the field perfectly disgusted, after a succession of bad shooting; seeming to argue that he no longer sought after game for amusement, but that he expected his efforts to be repaid by the death of the birds.

This dog was of a morose and dignified disposition, surly with strangers, and inclined to quarrel with any one who carried a stick or whip in their hands; never forgetting an injury, and growling whenever any person who had offended him made their appearance. He was also particularly irritable and tenacious of his rights when hunting, shunning all puppies or heedless dogs, and exhibiting a very irascible disposition if superseded in a point by another dog; and on one occasion attacked a young pointer in the field, who, in opposition to all his growling and show of irony, would persist in crawling before him, when on a point.—L]

DOG-CARTS.

These were, and still are, in the country, connected with many an act of atrocious cruelty. We do not object to the dog as a beast of draught. He is so in the northern regions, and he is as happy as any other animal in those cold and inhospitable countries. He is so in Holland, and he is as comfortable there as any other beast that wears the collar. He is not so in Newfoundland: there he is shamefully treated. It is to the abuse of the thing, the poor and half-starved condition of the animal, the scandalous weight that he is made to draw, and the infamous usage to which he is exposed, that we object. We would put him precisely on the same footing with the horse, and then we should be able, perhaps, to afford him, not all the protection we could wish, but nearly as much as we have obtained for the horse. We would have every cart licensed, not for the sake of adding to the revenue, but of getting at the owner; and therefore the taxing need not be any great sum. We would have the cart licensed for the carrying of goods only; or a separate license taken out if it carried or drew a human being.

It is here that the cruelty principally exists. Before the dog-carts were put down in the metropolis, we then saw a man and a woman in one of these carts, drawn by a single dog, and going at full trot. Every passenger execrated them, and the trot was increased to a gallop, in order more speedily to escape the just reproaches that proceeded from every mouth. We would have the name and address of the owner, and the number of the cart, painted on some conspicuous part of the vehicle, and in letters and figures as large as on the common carts. Every passenger who witnessed any flagrant act of cruelty would then be enabled to take the number of the cart, and summon the owner; and the police should have the same power of interference which they have with regard to other vehicles.

After a plan like this had been working a little while, the nuisance would be materially abated; and, indeed, the consciousness of the ease with which the offender might be summoned, would go far to get rid of it.

CROPPING.

This is an infliction of too much torture for the gratification of a nonsensical fancy; and, after all, in the opinion of many, and of those, too, who are fondest of dogs, the animal looks far better in his natural state than when we have exercised all our cruel art upon him. Besides, the effects of this absurd amputation do not cease with the healing of the ear. The intense inflammation that we have set up, materially injures the internal structure of this organ. Deafness is occasionally produced by it in some dogs, and constantly in others. The frequent deafness of the pug is solely attributable to the outrageous as well as absurd rounding of his ears. The almost invariable deafness of the white wire-haired terrier is to be traced to this cause.

[Among the many tastes and fancies that the Americans have inherited from their ancestors, the English, may be enumerated the absurd practice of fashioning the ears of different breeds of dogs to a certain standard of beauty. Mr. Blain very justly remarks that it must be a false taste which has taught us to prefer a curtailed organ to a perfect one, without gaining any convenience by the operation. The dogs upon which this species of barbecuing are more particularly practised in this country, are the bull-dogs and terriers.

We imagine that many of our readers will be surprised when they learn that this operation, although so simple in itself, and performed by every reckless stable-boy, is attended with great suffering to the puppy, and not unfrequently with total deafness. Severe inflammation, extending to the interior of the ear, often follows this operation, more especially when awkwardly performed, as is frequently the case, by the aid of the miserable instruments within the reach of our hostlers; to say nothing of the savage fashion of using the teeth for this purpose, as is often done by ignorant fellows, who even take credit to themselves for the clever style in which they perform this outlandish operation. Mr. Blain states, that it is a barbarous custom to twist the ears off, by swinging the dog around; and we are satisfied that every sensible person will respond to this humane sentiment. We have never had the misfortune to see this latter method put into practice, and trust that such an operation is unknown among us, although, from the manner in which this gentleman condemns it, we are led to suppose that this mode is not uncommon in the old country.

As custom has sanctioned the cropping of dogs, in spite of all that can be said upon the subject, it should be done in such a manner as to cause the least possible pain to the animal. The fourth or fifth week is the proper age for this operation; if done sooner, the flap is apt to sprout and become deformed: if later, the cartilage has grown more thick and sensitive. The imaginary beauty of a terrier crop consists in the foxy appearance of the ears, which is easily produced by the clean cut of a sharp, strong pair of scissors. The first cut should commence at the posterior base of the ear, near to the head, and be carried to the extremity of the flap, taking off about the eighth of an inch or more in width. The second cut should extend from the base of the ear in front, somewhat obliquely, to intersect the other cut within a few lines of the point of the flap. These two cuts will shape the ear in such a style as to please the most fastidious eye, and will require no further trimming. The pieces taken from the first ear will answer as guides in cutting the other. The mother should not be allowed to lick the ears of the puppies, as is generally done, under the supposition that she assists in the healing process, when, in fact, she irritates them, and occasions increased inflammation. If the wounds are tardy at healing, or become mangy, they may be bathed gently with a weak solution of alum.

We regret to find that Mr. Skinner, so well known to the sporting world as the able extoller and defender of the rights of our canine friends, should recommend the cropping of terriers. We are convinced that he would change his feelings upon this subject, if he placed any confidence in the opinions of Blain, Youatt, Scott, or Daniel, all of whom condemn the practice as barbarous, and as often occasioning great suffering, and even total deafness, throughout the progeny of successive generations, as witnessed in the white wire-haired terrier and pug above mentioned.

Wo have had the good fortune to persuade some of our friends to desist from thus mutilating their terrier pups, all of whom, consequently, grew up with beautiful full ears and long tails, which were much admired; and to the eyes of many, the dogs seemed more sprightly and knowing with their long flaps, than when deprived of those natural appendages.—L.]

TAILING.

Then 'the tail' of the dog does not suit the fancy of the owner. It must be shortened in some of these animals, and taken off altogether in others. If the sharp, strong scissors, with a ligature, were used, the operation, although still indefensible, would not be a very cruel one, for the tail may be removed almost in a moment, and the wound soon heals; but for the beastly gnawing off of the part, and the drawing out of the tendons and nerves—these are the acts of a cannibal; and he who orders or perpetrates a barbarity so nearly approaching to cannibalism, deserves to be scouted from all society.

[As a matter of necessity, we cannot sanction the too frequent and cruel practice of cutting or otherwise barbecuing different portions of the bodies of our domestic animals, and more particularly the often absurd fancy or cropping and sterning dogs. Nevertheless, we must admit the propriety of, and, in fact, recommend, the taking off a small portion of the pointer's tail, not to increase his beauty, but to save him some after suffering. A long tail is frequently lacerated in close thickets, and thus rendered sore and mangy: this is prevented by the operation, as it becomes better protected by the body, as also more thickly covered by the feather which generally forms over it.

When the pups are a month or six weeks old, this operation can be performed with little pain to the animal, by means of sharp scissors or a knife; but never allow any one to bite the tail off, as is often done by some dirty and unfeeling stable-men. Although a long tail is inconvenient, a too short one is more unsightly; care should therefore be taken not to remove too much. The quantity should be regulated by the size of the breed: for a medium breed, an inch is sufficient to be cut off at this age. Some sportsmen in England, Mr. Blain also informs us, draw out the lower tendons of the tail, which present themselves after amputation, with a pair of forceps, with a view of causing the tail to be carried higher, which adds to the style and appearance of the dog, when in the field. This practice, we agree with Mr. Youatt, is cannibal-like, and very painful; and, to say the least of it, of very doubtful propriety, as it is but seldom we find a good breed of dog carrying, while hunting, a slovenly tail.

If there should be any appearance of hemorrhage after this operation, a small piece of tape or twine may be tied around the tail, which will immediately arrest the bleeding. This ligature should not remain on longer than a few hours, as the parts included in it will be apt to slough and make a mangy ulcer, difficult to heal.—L.]

DEW-CLAWS

Next comes the depriving the dog of his 'dew-claws'—the supplementary toes a little above the foot. They are supposed to interfere with hunting by becoming entangled with the grass or underwood. This rarely happens. The truth of the matter is, they are simply illustrations of the uniformity of structure which prevails in all animals, so far as is consistent with their destiny. The 'dew-claws' only make up the number of toes in other animals. If they are attached, as they are in some dogs, simply by a portion of skin, they may be removed without any very great pain, yet the man of good feeling would not meddle with them. He would not unnecessarily inflict any pain that he can avoid; and here, in several of the breeds, the toe is united by an actual joint; and if they are dissected because they are a little in the way, it is a barbarous operation, and nothing can justify it.

[Notwithstanding our author's condemnation of this practice, there are many sportsmen who think it very necessary to remove this supernumerary toe, fearing that it may interfere with the dog while hunting, as above stated.

Mr. Blain, both a practical sportsman and scientific gentleman, to whose opinions we must at all times show a due regard, considers the removal of these false appendages very necessary, stating that they often become troublesome, not only in the field, but that they frequently turn in and wound the flesh with their nails.

We have never seen any particular inconvenience arising from the presence of these dew-claws, and are not in the habit of taking them off; but, as the operation is a trifling one, and attended with little or no pain, we are disposed to recommend its general adoption, as it improves the appearance of the legs; and their presence may sometimes prove inconvenient to the animal, as stated by Mr. Blain. These claws most commonly have a ligamentous attachment only to the leg, which may be divided, a few days after birth, by a pair of sharp scissors or a knife; and if a bony union exists, it is generally of such a trifling nature that it can be severed in the same way.—L.]

The cruelties that are perpetrated on puppies during the course of their education or 'breaking-in', are sometimes infamous. Young dogs, like young people, must be to a certain degree coerced; but these animals receive from nature so great an aptitude for learning, and practising that which we require of them, and their own pleasure is so much connected with what they learn, that there is no occasion for one-tenth part of the correction that is occasionally inflicted; and the frequent consequence of the cruelty to which they are subjected, is cowardice or ferocity during life.

Not many years ago, as the author was going over one of the commons in the neighbourhood of the metropolis, now enclosed, he heard the loud sounds of the lash and the screams of a dog. He hurried on, and found two men, one holding a greyhound while another was unmercifully flogging him. He had inflicted many lashes, and was continuing the correction. The author indignantly interfered, and the dog was liberated, but with a great deal of abuse from the men; and a gentleman galloping up, and who was the owner of the dog, and a Middlesex magistrate to boot, seemed disposed to support his people in no very measured terms On being addressed, however, by name, and recognising the speaker, and his attention being directed to the 'whaled' and even bloody state of the dog, he offered the best excuse that he could.

We met again some months afterwards. "That hiding," said he, "that offended you so much did Carlo good, for he has not been touched since." "No," was the reply; "you were a little ashamed of your fellows, and have altered your system, and find that your dogs do not want this unmerciful negro-whipping."

Stories are told of the 'kennel-hare'—a hare kept on purpose, and which is sometimes shown to the fox or stag-hounds. The moment that any of them open, they are tied up to the whipping-post, and flogged, while the keepers at every stroke call out "Ware hare!" A sheep has also been shown to them, or still is, after which another unmerciful flogging is administered, amidst cries of "Ware sheep!" If this is not sufficient, some of the wool is dipped in train oil, and put into the dog's mouth, which is sewed up for many hours in order to cure him of sheep-biting. There was an almost similar punishment for killing poultry; and there was the 'puzzle' and the 'check-collar', cruelly employed, for killing other dogs.

There is a great deal of truth, and there may occasionally be some exaggeration, in these accounts; but the sportsman who is indebted for the pleasures of the field to the intelligence and exertions of his horses and his dogs, is bound, by every principle that can influence an honourable mind, to defend them from all wanton and useless cruelty. There is a dog, and a faithful and valuable one, that powerfully demands the assistance of the humane—the yard or watch-dog. He is not only for the most part deprived of his liberty, but too often neglected and made unnecessarily to suffer. How seldom do we see him in the enjoyment of a good bed of straw, or, rather, how frequently is everything about his kennel in a most filthy and disgusting state! The following hint not only relates to him, but to every dog that is tied up out of doors. "Their cribs or their kennels, as they are called, should be constructed so as to turn, in order to prevent their inmates from being exposed to the cutting blasts of winter. Where they have no other refuge, all animals seek shelter from the weather by turning their backs to the wind; but, as the dog thus confined cannot do so, his kennel should be capable of turning, or at least should be placed so as not to face the weather more than is necessary. The premises would be in quite as great security, for the dog depends as much upon his ear and sense of smell as upon his eye, and would equally detect a stranger's presence if he were deprived of sight."

In the Zoological Gardens, an old blind dog used to be placed at the door of the dissecting-house. Few had any business there, and every one of them he, after a while, used to recognise and welcome full ton yards off, by wagging his tail; at the same distance, he would begin to growl at a stranger unless accompanied by a friend. From the author's long habit of noticing him, he used to recognise his step before it would seem possible for its sound to be heard. He followed him with his sightless eyes in whatever direction he moved, and was not satisfied until he had patted and fondled him.

DOG-PITS.

Of the demoniacal use of the dog in the 'fighting-pits', and the atrocities that were committed there, I will not now speak. These places were frequented by few others than the lowest of the low. Cruelties were there inflicted that seemed to be a libel on human nature; and such was the baneful influence of the scene, that it appeared to be scarcely possible for any one to enter these pits without experiencing a greater or less degree of moral degradation.

The public dog-pits have now been put down; but the system of dog-fighting, with most of its attendant atrocities, still continues. There are many more low public-houses than there used to be pits, that have roomy places behind, and out of sight, where there are regular meetings for this purpose. Those among the neighbours who cannot fail of being annoyed and disgusted by the frequent uproar, might give a clue to these dens of infamy; and the depriving of a few of the landlords of their license would go a great way towards the effectual suppression of the practice.

Would it be thought possible that certain of our young aristocracy keep fighting-dogs at the repositories of various dealers in the outskirts of the metropolis; and that these animals remain there, as it were, at livery, the owners coming at their pleasure, and making and devising what matches they think proper?

However disgraceful it may be, it is actually the fact. Here is a field for "the suppression of cruelty!"

DOG-STEALING.

The practice of stealing dogs is both directly and indirectly connected with a great deal of cruelty. There are more than twenty miscreants who are well known to subsist by picking up dogs in the street. There are generally two of them together with aprons rolled round their waists. The dog is caught up at the corner of one of the streets, concealed in a moment in the apron, and the thieves are far away before the owner suspects the loss. These dogs, that have been used to every kind of luxury, are crowded into dark and filthy cellars, where they become infected by various diseases. The young ones have distemper, and the old ones mange, and all become filled with vermin. There they remain until a sufficient reward is offered for their recovery, or they are sent far into the country, or shipped for France or some other foreign market. Little or nothing is done by punishing the inferior rogues in this traffic. The blow must be struck at those of a superior class. I will not assert that every dog-dealer is in league with, and profits by, the lower thieves; but it is true of a great many of them, and it is the principal and most lucrative part of their trade. They are likewise intimately connected with the dog-fights, and encourage them, for the sake of their trade as dealers. An attempt should be made to bring the matter home to these scoundrels. [2]

[Dog-stealing, we are more particularly informed by Col. Hawker, is reduced to a perfect system in London, and carried on by a set of fellows who, by their cunning and peculiar knack, are enabled to avoid all detection in their nefarious traffic, and thus, by extortion of rewards or sales of stolen dogs, reap a rich harvest for the whole fraternity from the well-stored pockets of the numerous dog-fanciers of the English capital.

The villains engaged in this business are known among themselves under the too often abused sobriquet of "the Fancy," and assuming the garb of different mechanics, prowl about the streets, oftentimes with the proper tools in their hands, carelessly watching the movements of every dog that passes by, ready to grab him up the first fitting opportunity. The dog is then concealed till a suitable reward is offered for him, when, through the intervention of a third person, a trusty agent of the society, he is delivered over to his rightful owner, the actual rogue never appearing in the whole transaction.

If no reward, or an insufficient one, is offered for the recovery of the dog, he is either sent off to the country, or, perhaps, cautiously exposed for sale in some distant quarter of the city, or perhaps killed for his skin alone.

These gentry, however, prefer returning dogs to their owners for a moderate compensation, as they thus know at what rate the animal is valued, and cherish the hope of soon being able to steal him again, and thus obtaining another reward.

There have been instances of a lady paying, in successive rewards, a sum not less than fifteen guineas for a miserable little lap-dog not worth as many shillings.

If anything is said about the law, or threats of prosecution held out in the notice offering a reward for a "lost or stolen dog," the death of the kidnapped animal is inevitable, as the "Fancy" prefer sacrificing an occasional prize rather than run the risk of detection by some enthusiastic or stubborn dog owner. These fellows, as well as thieves generally, are said to have a method of quieting the fiercest watch-dogs by throwing them a narcotic ball, which they call "puddening the animal."

The following account, extracted from Hawker's work, will give the American reader a 'perfect' insight into the maneuvering of these sharpers.

"In the month of May, 1830, Mr. Lang lost a favourite setter. He posted handbills offering two guineas reward; on hearing of which a man came and told him the reward was not enough, but that if he would make it four guineas he could find his dog, and the amount must be deposited in the hands of a landlord who would procure him a ticket-card. He should then be met to his appointment in some private field, where he would receive his dog on condition that no questions should be asked. Mr. Lang sent his shopman, about half-past ten at night, to White Conduit Fields to meet the parties, who, on receiving the ticket, delivered up the dog. But there was great hesitation in transacting this affair, in consequence of the dog having on a lock to a steel chain collar with Mr. Lang's name, and which, therefore, induced them to proceed with extreme caution, through fear, as they supposed, of detection for felony. The whole amount paid for recovering this setter was L4 17s., L2 10s. of which went to the men who had him. The rest was divided among others of the "Fancy". The same person who gave Mr. Lang the information, said that if ever he lost a dog, and applied to him, he could undertake to get him back again within thirty-six hours, provided he would make it worth his while to do so; because all dogs taken by the "Fancy" are brought to their office and regularly booked by the secretary." ('Hawker on Shooting', p. 592.)—L.]



[Footnote 1: Plutarch relates that, at the theatre of Marcellus, a dog was exhibited before the emperor Vespasian, so well instructed as to exercise in every kind of dance. He afterwards feigned illness in a most singular manner, so as to strike the spectators with astonishment. He first exhibited various symptoms of pain; he then fell down as if dead, and, afterwards seeming to revive, as if waking from a profound sleep, and then sported about and showed various demonstrations of joy.]

[Footnote 2: Mr. Bishop, of Bond-street, has assured the public, that he is able to prove that money has recently been extorted from the owners of dogs by dog-stealers and their confederates, to the amount of more than a thousand pounds. Surely this calls for the decided interposition of the legislature. A strange case of atrocity and cruelty was related by a gentleman to Mr. Bishop.

"A young dog of mine," says he, "was lost in London, and, being aware that if a noise was made about it, a great price would be asked for it, I gave out that I wanted to purchase one: I was shown my own dog. I seized it; but there were several scoundrels present who professed to belong to it, and threatened to kill the dog if I did not pay for it. I proceeded to describe it as my own, stating that it had 'bad back or double teeth'. Judge of my surprise when, after great difficulty, and the dog crying greatly, its mouth was opened, and all the back teeth had been taken out! I paid two pounds for it before they would let me take it away; but, in consequence of the injuries it had received, it died a few days afterward."]



* * * * *



INTRODUCTION TO CANINE PATHOLOGY.

BY THE EDITOR.

PREDISPOSITION TO, AND CAUSES OF, DISEASES IN DOGS.—THE CLAIMS OF DOGS UPON US.

"Unnumbered accidents and various ills Attend thy pack, hang hovering o'er their heads, And point the way that leads to death's dark cave. Short is their span, few at the date arrive Of ancient Argus, in old Homer's song So highly honour'd."

The dog from early youth, in fact oftentimes at the very period of birth, is exposed to many dangerous and troublesome affections, the result of causes not less complex and multifarious than those that exert an influence over the human organization. Many diseases are the consequence of their domesticity and the hereditary defects of their progenitors, others are dependent upon accidental circumstances, bad treatment, and improper nourishment. Not a few, however, of their most mortal maladies are the production of contagion, infection, and other like causes, all exercising a general tendency to disease difficult to define and impossible to avoid.

Although every species of dog is more or less subject to certain diseases peculiar to their race, those breeds of most value and more particularly subservient to the will of man are liable to a greater number of ills and casualties than other dogs, for the reason that they are more frequently exposed to unnatural fatigue, extremes of heat and cold, as also to the various dangers dependent upon the chase of wild animals. Those diseases resulting from specific causes, either natural to the race or artificially produced by the animal itself in a state of morbid derangement, are most frequent and fatal, as witnessed in distemper, rabies, mange, &c. The intimate connexion existing between the diseases of our canine friends and those of the human race, as also the strong similarity in the action of many drugs over the two systems, render the study of one branch almost synonymous with that of the other.

A little attention, therefore, on the part of the physician will render him quite familiar with and competent to relieve the many sufferings of these our most faithful and grateful of companions, and at the same time create an interest in a study that cannot fail to be productive of pleasure as well as information.

This subject, though claiming the attention of many skilful and intelligent persons in England and other countries, has scarce been thought of among us, and the mere mention of an infirmary or hospital for the accommodation of invalid dogs, would involuntarily create a smile of incredulity or contempt upon the face of most of our countrymen. Notwithstanding this display of ignorance and positive want of humane feeling for animal suffering, or a just appreciation of canine worth, we must beg leave to inform these unbelievers that such institutions are quite numerous in many large cities of the old world; and they must also learn that these institutions are conducted by gentlemen of science upon a system not less regular and useful in this particular branch, than similar establishments appropriated for the relief of suffering humanity.

To these hospitals hundreds of valuable sick dogs are annually sent, where they receive every attention, and are often snatched from the very jaws of death, or prevented, when attacked by rabies or other frightful affections, from doing mischief or propagating infection. Medicines the most potent are administered to these interesting patients with the utmost care, either as assuagers of temporary pain, or as remedial agents in the cure of disease. Operations the most complex are performed with the greatest skill, and every attention is bestowed upon these invalids in their different wards, and no trouble is considered too great to save the life and secure the services of a valuable and faithful dog.

As we have no such establishments in this country, and but a few persons upon whom we can rely for assistance in case of need, it behooves every lover of the dog to make himself familiar with, and the mode of treating the most prominent affections of these companions of our sports, and at the same time acquire a knowledge of the operations of certain medicines upon the system in a state of health or disease, so that our trusty followers may not be left to the tender mercies and physicking propensities of ignorant stablemen, or the officious intermeddling of the "pill-directing horse doctor."

The necessity of resorting to the assistance of either one or the other of these worthies is equally unfortunate, as the former will most generally kill the patient by slow degrees in forcibly and largely administering the two modern specifics for all canine affections, viz.: "soap pills and flowers of sulphur." While the latter, more bold but not less ignorant than the former, and his practice is perhaps the preferable of the two evils, will murder the dog out-right by the free exhibition of calomel, nux vomica and other deleterious substances, of the operation of which he has but little knowledge or conception. This latter system, as before said, is the most preferable, as its adoption secures for our favourite a speedy termination of his sufferings, and also relieves our own minds from a state of suspense that illustrates too forcibly the remark, "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick."

REMEDIAL MEANS FOR THE CURE OF DISEASES.

There are but few remedies useful for the cure of diseases in the human race that might not he employed by a skilful practitioner in overcoming the same or different ailments in the dog. There are, however, several drugs that cannot be used in the same proportions for the one as for the other, without danger of producing fatal consequences, as instanced in calomel, a medicine so often abused by those who pretend to a knowledge of its administration in the maladies of dogs.

This article, though given with impunity to mankind in doses varying from five grains to twenty grains, as also oftentimes administered to horses in quantities three or four times as great, without any appreciable effect, will not unfrequently, in minute doses of three grains to four grains, produce the most violent symptoms in the strongest dogs. We have seen severe vomiting and purging occasioned by these small doses, and we once salivated a large mastiff by the administration of two blue pills. It is thus that both the regular physician, and even the veterinary surgeon, unacquainted with this remarkable peculiarity, will make fatal mistakes; and how much oftener must such blunders take place when we intrust our canine friends to the care of stable-boys, or a "routine horse-doctor!"

Nux vomica, another medicine much used, and most important in the treatment of all nervous affections, is particularly noxious to dogs even in small quantities; a dose sufficient for a human subject under some circumstances, would almost inevitably destroy the animal under the same or analogous conditions.

A drachm of the powdered nux vomica is sufficient to destroy the largest and most powerful dog, while a few grains will sometimes produce death in a few minutes if administered to smaller animals.

We prescribed forty grains in a roll of butter for a worthless cur a short time since, which, as expected, produced great anxiety, difficulty of respiration, severe vomiting, tremors, spasmodic twitchings of the muscles, convulsions, and ultimate death in the course of half an hour. This powerful drug acts by causing a spasmodic stricture of the muscles engaged in respiration, as no signs of inflammation are observable in the stomach and other organs after death.

Spirits of turpentine, another remedy both simple and innocent in its operations upon the human economy, and so frequently prescribed for the expulsion of worms from the bowels, is a dangerous medicine for a dog, and will often in very small quantities prove fatal.

Aloes, a medicine more extensively used in canine pathology than any other in the materia medica, is also very peculiar in its operations upon these animals, they being able to bear immense doses of it, in fact quite sufficient to produce death if given to a hearty man.

Thus we might continue to enumerate other drugs which we have ascertained, from practical observation as well as the experiments of other, to exercise a peculiar action on the vital functions of the whole canine race, quite at variance with that common to both man and the other domestic animals.

In combating with the diseases of animals, the veterinary surgeon has more to contend with than the regular physician, and, in fact, should possess a knowledge and habit of observation even superior to the former; although the responsibility of his calling, in a moral sense, is much inferior to that of the other, as the importance of animal existence, under no circumstances, can be placed in comparison with that of human life: still acuteness of observation alone can direct him to the main cause of suffering in the brute creation, as the animal, though groaning under the most severe pains, cannot by any word of explanation point out to us the seat, the probable cause, or peculiar characteristics of such pain. We see that our dog is ill, he refuses his food, retires gloomily to his house, looks sullen, breathes heavy, is no longer delighted at our call. We cannot question him as to his feelings, or ask him to point out the particular region of his sufferings; we watch his motions, study his actions, and rely for our diagnosis upon general symptoms deduced from close observation.

Besides these external ocular evidences of morbid action, we have, as in the human subject, guides to direct us in forming a just opinion as to the nature of a dog's indisposition.

The state of the circulation is the first thing that should command our particular attention.

The pulse of dogs in health varies from one hundred to one hundred and twenty strokes per minute, according to the size and peculiar temperament of the animal, being more frequent in the small breeds.

The standard of the setter, pointer, hound, &c., may be stated at one hundred and five.

The action of the heart may be felt by placing the hand immediately over that organ, or applying the fingers to several points in the body and limbs where the large arteries are somewhat superficial, as on the inside of the fore-knee and the thigh of the hind-leg.

If the pulse in a state of rest exceeds the average standard in frequency, regularity, and softness, and a general feeling of uneasiness be present, together with reddened eyes, warm nose, and coated tongue, we know at once that there is an unnatural derangement of the vital functions, and that fever in some form is present. The next question to determine is, upon what does this fever depend? whether it be idiopathic, arising from morbific causes difficult to define, or whether it be sympathetic, with some organic affection yet to be discovered.

The appearance of the tongue in canine diseases will often materially assist us in forming a correct diagnosis; this organ in simple fever loses its rose-colour and becomes pale and coated, the gums and faeces also participate in this change.

If, however, the tongue be much furred, with a bright inflammatory appearance around the edges, with high arterial excitement, and disgust of food, with general anxiety and craving for water in small but frequent quantities, inflammation of the stomach or bowels may be suspected. If, on the other hand, the tongue remains brown and streaked, with less action of the pulse, variable appetite and diminution of pain, derangement of the liver may be apprehended.

If, in connection with some or all of the above symptoms, the breathing be laboured and painful, with a disposition to remain in the erect or sitting position, with great anxiety and general distress, we must look to the pulmonic viscera as the seat of the disease.

Thus, by examining each and every individual symptom of disease, the intelligent sportsman will soon be able to arrive at the proximate cause of all this unnatural state of things, and then he will be competent to administer such remedies as may seem most likely to afford relief. Without these precautions, however, he would often be groping in the dark, and, consequently, not unfrequently, apply those remedies more calculated to aggravate than cure the malady.



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CHAPTER VI.

DESCRIPTION OF THE SKELETON.

DISEASES OF THE NERVOUS SYSTEM:—FITS; TURNSIDE, OR GIDDINESS, EPILEPSY; CHOREA; RHEUMATISM AND PALSY.

[As with all the illustrations in this text, the canine skeleton and legend to the diagram are displayed fully in the html version.]

DISEASES OF THE NERVOUS SYSTEM.

FITS

24th Feb. 1814.—A pug was accustomed to howl frequently when his young master played on the flute. If the higher notes were sounded, he would leap on his master's lap, look in his face, and howl vehemently. To-day the young man purposely blew the shrillest sound that he could. The dog, after howling three or four times, began to run round the room, and over the tables and chairs, barking incessantly. This he continued more than an hour.

When I saw him all consciousness of surrounding objects was gone. He was still running feebly, but barking might and main.

I dashed a basin of cold water in his face, and he dropped as if he had been shot. He lay motionless nearly a minute, and then began to struggle and to bark; another cup of water was dashed in his face, and he lay quite motionless during two minutes or more. In the mean time I had got a grain each of calomel and tartar emetic, which I put on his tongue, and washed it down with a little water. He began to recover, and again began to yelp, although much softer; but, in about a quarter of an hour, sickness commenced, and he ceased his noise. He vomited three or four times, and lay frightened and quiet. A physic-ball was given him in the evening, and on the following morning.

On the next day the young man put open the door, and sat himself down, and began to prepare the flute; the dog was out in a moment, and did not return during a couple of hours. On the following day he made his escape again, and so the matter went on; but before the expiration of the week, his master might play the flute if he pleased.

TURNSIDE, OR GIDDINESS.

This is a singular disease prevalent among cattle, but only occasionally seen in the dog. He becomes listless, dull, off his food, and scarcely recognises any surrounding object. He has no fit, but he wanders about the room fur several hours at a time, generally or almost invariably in the same direction, and with his head on one side. At first he carefully avoids the objects that are in his way; but by degrees his mental faculties become impaired; his sense of vision is confused or lost, and he blunders against everything: in fact, if uninterrupted, he would continue his strange perambulation incessantly, until he was fairly worn out and died in convulsions.

I used to consider the complaint to be uniformly fatal. I have resorted to every remedial measure that the case could suggest. I have bled, and physicked and setoned, and blistered, and used the moxa; but all without avail, for not in a single case did I save my patient.

No opportunity of 'post-mortem' examination was lost. In some cases I have found spicula projecting from the inner plate of the skull, and pressing upon or even penetrating the dura mater. I know not why the dog should be more subject to these irregularities of cranial surface than any of our other patients; but decidedly he is so, and where they have pressed upon the brain, there has been injection of the membranes, and sometimes effusion between them.

In some cases I have found effusion without this external pressure, and, in some cases, but comparatively few, there has not been any perceptible lesion. Hydatids have been found in the different passages leading to the cranium, but they have not penetrated.

I used to recommend that the dog should be destroyed; but I met with two or three favourable cases, and, after that, I determined to try every measure that could possibly be serviceable. I bled, and physicked, and inserted setons, and tried to prevent the utter exhaustion of the animal. When he was unable longer to perform his circumvolutions, and found that he was foiled, he laid himself down, and by degrees resumed his former habits. He was sadly impatient and noisy; but in a few cases he was cured.

[We have seen but two or three cases of this disease in dogs, are led to believe that it is quite uncommon with our domestic animals. One case in a valuable setter came on suddenly, and without any apparent cause (except perhaps over-feeding), and terminated fatally in the course of a few days.—L.]

EPILEPSY

in the dog assumes a most fatal character. It is an accompaniment, or a consequence, of almost every other disease. When the puppy is undergoing the process of dentition, the irritation produced by the pressure of the tooth, as it penetrates the gum, leads on to epilepsy. When he is going through the stages of distemper, with a very little bad treatment, or in spite of the best, fits occur. The degree of intestinal irritation which is caused by worms, is marked by an attack of epilepsy. If the usual exercise be neglected for a few days, and the dog is taken out, and suffered to range as he likes, the accumulation of excitability is expended in a fit.

The dog is, without doubt, the most intellectual animal. He is the companion and the friend of man: he exhibits, and is debased by some of his vices; but, to a greater degree than many will allow, he exhibits all the intelligence and the virtues of the biped. In proportion to his bulk, the weight of his brain far exceeds that of any other quadruped—the very smallest animals alone being excepted, in whom there must be a certain accumulation of medullary matter in order to give origin to the nerves of every system, as numerous in the minutest as in him of greatest bulk.

As it has been said of the human being that great power and exertion of the mental faculties are sometimes connected with a tendency to epilepsy, and, as violent emotions of joy or of grief have been known to be followed by it, I can readily account for its occurrence in the young dog, when frightened at the chiding of his master, or by the dread of a punishment which he was conscious that he had deserved. Then, too, I can understand that, when breaking loose from long confinement, he ranges in all the exuberance of joy; and especially when he flushes almost his first covey, and the game falls dead before him, his mental powers are quite overcome, and he falls into an epileptic fit.

The treatment of epilepsy in the dog is simple, yet often misunderstood. It is connected with distemper in its early stage. It is the produce of inflammation of the mucous passages generally, which an emetic and a purgative will probably, by their direct medicinal effect, relieve, and free the digestive passages from some source of irritation, and by their mechanical action unburthen the respiratory ones.